His arm wrapped around her, and he pulled her to him for a kiss. “It is. Ian, my brother, must have changed the ringtone yesterday while I was still in police custody. I guess he’s still angry with me.”
Confusion filled her eyes. “You were in jail? Martin told me you were called away on urgent business.”
Kieran’s shoulders rolled forward, and he stared at the bed. “I guess handcuffs are urgent business.” He sighed heavily. “I lost my cool and made a mistake. But everything is alright now.”
She lay on his chest and lifted her chin. “Monsieur Chase, please tell me what happened. I am thirty-six years old. I’ve lived on my own since I signed my first contract at fourteen. I have a degree in economics. I own a non-profit, a cosmetic business, and a clothing business catering to what the industry considers a plus-sized woman, size twelve to size five X. Last year, my businesses and my modeling career grossed seven-hundred-fifty-million dollars. I deal with French chauvinists in the boardroom and handsy photographers. I know when I’m being given, I believe the term is ‘snow job.’”
Kieran adjusted their position for him to sit up. “I apologize. Sergeant Dupart’s brother Julian is one of my employees. Tag called him, worried your safety was being taken for granted. Alain Charpentier mentioned to him that you have been receiving odd threats for some time.
“Tag has never reached out like that before. Julian asked permission to fly out here with his wife for the weekend and make an unofficial inquiry with you. Martin and I flew out here with him. Martin to keep Julian out of trouble, and I needed to check in on some business matters with our San Diego branch.”
“How does this get you to jail?” She leaned on her elbows.
Kieran fidgeted and cleared his throat. “After what happened with Alain and Dean, I called the commandant in Lyon as soon as we left you. He didn’t get back to me until yesterday morning. He advised me about the incidents in Lyon; some Alain reported to the police but not to you.”
Her brows furrowed. “What did he think he was doing? What incidents? How many?”
“If I had known about those, I would have moved you here sooner. Maybe the dye in the shower…and Soleil…” He shook his head. “Seeing you were hurting, and knowing the police knew but hadn’t done anything… And they were rude and disrespectful to you—I punched one of them in the nose. I’m sorry.”
“If I knew…” She shook her head. “You did that because of me?Des hommes comme vous n'existent pas.” She teared up and clasped his cheeks between her palms. The kiss that followed was filled with passion.
Kieran had no idea what she said, but he knew she wasn’t angry anymore. “Beautiful, I called for a breakfast meeting at seven, here. If I don’t get out of bed now, I never will.” He slapped her on her bottom.
Monique’s eyes flashed with devilment. “Until tonight, Kieran.”
* * *
Kieran double-checkedthat his outfit was squared away. He’d never taken a client to bed. And all he could think about was taking her to bed again. Memories of her touch, her kisses and her scent consumed him.
A knock on the door caught his attention. After checking the peephole, he opened the door. Martin, Julian, Troy and Zach walked into the suite on time, all dressed in pressed khaki pants and black polo shirts. An enormous breakfast was set up in the living room area.
“Help yourselves.” Kieran pointed. “Smooth, come here a second please.” He asked Julian what the words Monique said to him meant.
Julian’s eyes twinkled. “If you are sure that’s what she said, it meansmen like you do not exist.”
Kieran glared at him. “Repeat that to anyone, and you can find a new job.”
“Yes, sir.” Julian’s laugh rumbled inside the suite.
When they returned to the table, Zach asked, “Boss, Monique sleep well?”
“Yes, I believe she slept well.”What little she slept.“What do you have for me?”
“It’s not good. I spoke to the second-in-charge responsible for her case in Lyon. They were incorrect with some of the information reported to you. The first incident began on Bastille Day last year. It was the first one that met their harassment and stalking statutes. Other incidents involved what they called overzealous fan mail, flat tires, damaged or not delivered shipments, flower and candy deliveries, stuffed animal deliveries. None of which they deemed dangerous, despite the fact that all had the same address card:To my temptress. Bastille Day, July fourteenth, there was a theft from her car. It was not associated with the other cases until the next two events, which involved a break-in to her apartment and the office for her cosmetics company,” Troy reported.
Zach pulled up a file on his laptop. “Troy and I did the intake last night. She has an impressive resume not related to her modeling career. Her baby sister died five years ago—suicide. She opened a non-profit in five French cities for women with mental illness. She holds dual French and American citizenship. Mother is American; father is French.
“When I discussed bringing us on as permanent security, she was inclined to take our offer. The two men currently acting as her security were paparazzi patrol. They had no idea about any of these threats, and they were brought in by her photographer. I wonder how much more Charpentier kept from her.”
Troy continued, “Her next appearance is a benefit for White Star families at Qualcomm Stadium. I didn’t want to push too hard, but she’s had no bad break-ups, no recollection of specific fans she felt threatened by, and she is a talented artist.” He opened a yellow envelope and handed Kieran a picture she sketched of Dean. “I had a courier pick it up. San Diego technical analysis is running it through facial recognition.”
“Quand? ... Bien sûr… Trois pas cinq sur ce court préavis… Le San Diego Yacht Club… Combien?... Vingt mille?… Très bien… Je vous rappellerai plus tard pour confirmer où essayer les tenues.” Monique entered the room while on the phone, wearing a black silk jumpsuit and six-inch Manolo Blahnik stiletto pumps.
Julian leaned into the table and translated. “Boss. I don’t like this. She’s saying, ‘When? Of course. Three not five on this short notice. The San Diego Yacht Club. How much? Twenty thousand? Very well. I will call you back later to confirm where to try on the outfits.’ Sounds like she’s planning on another show.”
Kieran gritted his teeth. “Put it on our list of things to do.”
“Bonjour à tous,” she greeted the five men.
