Our eyes lock as our breathing synchronizes. I draw her nearer, one hand on her neck and the other on the small of her back, pressing her closer. I can feel the rapid thud of her pulse. She shivers, the gentlest of tremors, and her eyes flutter closed.
I whisper in her hair, “Veux-tu m'epouser?”
“Monsieur,”she responds with a breathy laugh, clearly amused. “You want to kiss me so badly you’d propose already?”
She thinks I’m joking. I’ll let her think that for now.
I sigh, as if dejected.“Je peux t’embrasser?”
“Yes, of course, we can start with a kiss.”
I love the way she relaxes into me. The way her hand on my arm sends a warm shiver over my skin. The way her lips part when they meet mine.
I want to crush her to me, feast on her, but I make myself tame my need. My lips touch hers like a whisper. I sink into the velvet warmth of her.
Her eager response sings through my veins.
I don’t want her to suspect me. I don’t want her to know that soon, I’ll offer her way more than her wages. I’ll pay her so much money, she’ll never have to work here again because she’s mine now, and I’ll have to kill any man who touches her after me.
So I pull back far too soon. I relish the little parting sigh she gives and hold it close to me as a reminder that she wants this. Wantsme.
“So?” I ask.
There’s a faint glint of humor mixed with shock in her eyes.
“We have a deal.”
CHAPTER SIX
Nicolette
Two million dollars.
So what if he’s as dangerous as they say?
So what if heisobsessiveor whatever? He’s willing to pay me that much money forone weekend.
A little voice in my head that warns me not to do stupid shit whispersthere’s a catch,but he’s already said there isn’t. And after what I’ve been through and what I’ve done, I’ve gottenreally goodat silencing that little voice. Instead, I use the voice of logic and reason to convince myself this is going to work.
So what if maybe I looked up his net worth when I took a quick bathroom break? Suffice it to say, Fabien Gerard isn’t going to miss that money. Hell, I’m here for it. Caviar, champagne, a home in Paris I can go to for the weekend?
Too good to be true.
My mother always said, as the saying goes, if something seems too good to be true, then it probably is. But don’t I deserve something to go my way for once?
I know that if my own voice of reason doesn’t win out, the other girls will have something to say about this, so it seems the proper course of action under these circumstances is to maybeavoidtalking to the girls.
So I take the roundabout way to get to my room. I grab my phone to shoot a quick text to my sister, when I notice two little notifications. Disappointment settles in my belly when I see neither of them are from him.
Gwen:
Hey, how are you today?
Cosette:
Hey, I went up to your room to check on you but you weren’t here. Where are you? You okay?
I won’t answer them until I’m far enough away they can’t talk me out of this. Still, I feel guilty as hell.
