“Nicolette.”
“Nicolette.” Something I can’t quite identify flares in his eyes, terrifying yet enthralling. My heart swells at the sound of my name on his lips even as my instincts scream at me to retreat.
I will not retreat. I’m here for a reason, and I’m not backing down now.
“A beautiful name,” he says, almost thoughtfully.
If anyone else said that to me, I’d think they were flirting. But from him, it’s somehow the highest of compliments.
Something tells me he doesn’tflirt.He doesn’t need to.
“Thank you.” NowI’mblushing.
No matter my purpose, deep down inside I can’t shed thegood girlI was raised to be.
“Do you have any other clients tonight? Gwen? Did you get my message?” She blanches. Though he’s coated his question in civility, his words are laden with an undercurrent of a threat. I shiver and shake my head.
“Take the rest of the night off, paid,” he says. “I’ve got business to tend to. I’ll check on you again later tonight.”
Cosette draws in an audible breath. I realize I’m not breathing again myself as he stands and turns toward the door. “If you need anything at all, Gwen will show you where to find me.” He pauses. “Nicolette. A lovely name for a lovely woman. And Gwen, I want an answer for why I didn’t get a response to my message.”
When he leaves, the room feels oddly colder, as if someone’s blocked the sun. I shiver. I have a strange, inexplicable need for him to come back.
“Whoa,” Joëlle whispers when he’s gone.
“My God,” Gwen says, collapsing on the bed. She pulls out her phone and opens the secure messaging app we use for work communication. “No.Oh,shit.”
“Gwen, what the hell?” Cosette asks.
She sighs. “He told me to clear your calendar tonight, Nicolette.”
“What?”
Cosette makes a sound that resembles a squeak. “He told you not to book her a client, and you did it anyway?”
Gwen nods, abashed. “I—I didn’t see this message.” She looks quickly at me, then at the other girls. “This is not good. This isnot good.”
I stare in silence. I’ve never met anyone like him before. Somehow, I already know, I never will again.
I can still see the way he stormed into the room, how he lifted my attacker with ease. The way the man’s body crunched against the wall from broken bones.
“What do you think he did to him?” I whisper.
Gwen looks away. “I think that’s something we’d rather not know. But suffice it to say, he won’t be coming here again.” She forces a smile, then gives me a curious look that quickly grows concerned. “I’m worried, though.”
“Why?” I ask, as Joëlle and Gwen share a look.
“Well,” Gwen says, sitting up in bed. “You see… Monsieur has a bit of a… reputation.”
“As in, everyone does exactly what he says at all times?” I ask, because I definitely could see myself falling under that spell.
I’m not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand, I hate the thought of anyone telling me what to do. On the other… if I were the focus of all that raw, potent masculinity…
“Well, that’s obvious,” Gwen says with a huff of laughter. “But… no. It’s more than that. You see, he showed you concern right now, but don’t mistake that as kindness.”
My heart sinks.
“Oh, God, no,” Cosette agrees. “Definitely not.”
