“Hmm… A girl with a troubled past who finds solace in being very much alone. That sounds like something I would say.”
He’d been checking up on her. Well, if he really was a member of the police force, that would fit his job description. “I’ve had my issues. Haven’t we all?”
“You are very right. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of but if we learn from our mistakes, we can certainly grow in life. Sometimes even in love.”
This was perhaps the most truthful statement he’d made. “Sounds like a man scorned.”
“Sounds like a man burned.” He lifted his glass, polishing off his wine, his eyes never leaving her.
“Then we have something in common after all,” she half whispered, trying her best not to inhale any more of his cologne. The scent was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, intoxicating in a manner that left her wet.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not in the least. The past is the past. Maybe coming here was all about an adventure, tossing away the life I thought mattered.”
He slid his hand across the table, intertwining two of his fingers with hers. “A broken heart is the very reason to make significant changes in our lives. What do you do in America?”
Her mind shifted to the entire cover that had been developed overnight, one she’d been forced to learn far too quickly. “I have a little business in Florida.”
“A professional woman. No wonder you’re so savvy.” He cocked his head, his gaze sweeping ever so slowly down from her face to the necklace she was wearing.
Sophia fingered the locket, the picture of a fake pet somehow comforting. With her schedule, she’d never been able to even own a pet. Hell, plants died within the first two weeks.
“May I?”
“Of course.”
He moved from his chair, crouching down beside her. As his hand wrapped around her locket, she took a series of deepbreaths. The slight brush of his fingers gave her a series of quivers, her pussy tingling. He carefully opened it, peering at the picture of the Golden Retriever. “And who is this handsome buck?”
“MacGyver.” They hadn’t named the dog, only provided her with the concept. The name seemed to suit.
“A master in his abilities to thwart a criminal. I like that. He suits you.” Pierre fingered the picture for a little too long, lingering in a way she knew he wanted the touch more than the information.
“He’s loving in a way the majority of humans will never be. No matter what kind of a day I’ve had, he greets me total adoration. He allows me to stain his fur with my tears and never complains when I don’t feel like playing ball. I can be me around him, no fear of being told I’m stupid or lazy. He’s accepting of his mommy dog in a way no one else could ever be.” She slipped her fingers to her mouth, fighting back tears for some ungodly reason. What the hell had she just spouted off? A load of crap.
But her heart ached at the thought.
“You are very right. There is no other kind of love like from a beloved animal.”
Her mouth was suddenly dry, her nipples fully aroused. She gathered the scent of her cream trickling into her already damp panties. This wasn’t the best shape for her to be in, but she could tell by the single bead of perspiration sliding down from his forehead that he was just as turned on as she was.
Maybe more so.
“I had a dog once, so I understand what you’re saying,” he said in a faraway voice. “He was everything to me. I adored him. Whilehe really belonged to my brothers as well, the dog thought I was his owner, following me everywhere.”
There was such sadness in his eyes, the kind that couldn’t be manufactured. “What happened to him?”
Pierre stiffened, moving back and finally settling back into his seat. He poured the last of the wine from the bottle into their two glasses before answering. “My father had him killed.”
She was stunned, completely uncertain of what to say. “I’m… sorry.”
He swirled the wine in his glass before lifting his gaze once again. “Don’t be. Nothing good ever lived in our house and nothing ever will.”
The tension furrowing into every muscle in his body was easy to see, the hurt remaining on his face. “Parents can be very cruel, even more so than some of our enemies.”
This seemed to draw him out of his sadness, although his grin was restrained. “We have more in common than we realize, lovely Ashley. What kind of business?”
“A bakery. I always loved to bake when I was a child.” If this was ever challenged, she would fail the test completely. She’d never baked a thing in her life that she hadn’t burned to a crisp.
