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“No.” Laughter bubbled in his tone. “You should clean up. Then we’ll have dinner downstairs.”
“But I have to get back to work. Or I’ll get fired.”
“You can’t go back to work. It’s too dangerous for you to be out there.”
“What do you mean, too dangerous? In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got bills to pay.”
Jean-Luc folded his arms across his chest, straightening his posture. He looked menacing. “You live here from now on. If you don’t like the room, I can arrange one to suit your taste. They’ve got great room service. Laundry service. Cleaning service. You don’t have to lift a finger. If you ever need anything, Madame Chabert will get it for you. I will send someone to get your things from your apartment.”
“And you expect me to sit around and do nothing all day?” Since she’d made a pact with him, Maddie expected he would want her to be ready whenever he needed her. Like a mistress of some fat, bald CEO or something. But even a mistress of a corporate fat cat still had some freedom.
“Just for a few days until things settle down. Death omen never target unmarked people.”
“I’m marked?” Her eyes widened. “You mean someone wants me dead? Why?”
“That’s one thing I need to find out, chérie. Until then, you sit tight and be a good girl.”
* * * *
She looked anxious.
Madeline ate her dinner with caution as they sat elbow to elbow in a small booth—the French bistro was one of Maison Plaisir’s many in-house restaurants. Jean-Luc always came here whenever he stayed at Maison Plaisir. The place served five-star cuisine. Even then, Carnivale’s relaxing atmosphere didn’t seem to unwind her nervous tension. She stabbed her fork in her lamb chop and chewed it as if she was trying to munch on a tree bark. Her eyes flickered on her surroundings suspiciously.
Jean-Luc grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “What’s wrong?”
Madeline leaned closer and lowered her voice into a whisper. “I’m the only human in this place.”
“Naturally.”
“How do you know one of these people don’t want me dead?”
“You’re overreacting.”
“My kind didn’t try to kill me. Your people did.”
“My people?” His eyebrows furrowed. “You can’t clump the rest of us with the lesser race. Relax. I told you, you’re safe. You’re under my protection. Think of Maison Plaisir as one exclusive club. They won’t let any riff-raff past their threshold.”
Her shoulders sagged. “I guess you’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been through a lot lately.”
“I know, chérie.” Jean-Luc rubbed her back gently. The cocktail dress Madame Chabert had got for her was slightly too big for her slender frame. But she looked so pretty in it. Dozens of emotions stirred inside his chest. Fondness. Adoration. Lust. An overwhelming urge to stake his claim. He usually felt only emptiness. But since he’d met her, he had been having all of these profound sensations.
To think he had almost lost her.
If he hadn’t heard her call and came to her rescue…
Jean-Luc pushed the thought away, but the nagging ‘what if’ scenario came slipping back.
Had he been a tad too late, she would have been dead and he would’ve had to escort her soul to the Central Office. All agents of the Pit must tag and bring uncollected souls if they ever encountered one. Which meant he would have lost his chance to court her.
He sank his fingers in her lush, dark, shoulder-length hair. It was silky and soft to touch. The clean fragrance of her shampoo drifted to his nose. He loved it. He could also smell the soap she’d used. Roses and lilac.
Very…womanly.
The thought made his cock twitch.
Madeline put down her fork and pushed her plate away.
“Do you want some dessert?” he asked.
