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I bite my lip.
“So, you trust that I’ll—”
“Yes.”
I grin as I slide out of my chair and walk around the table to slide onto his lap.
“Finally got the message that the coffee is better on this side of the table, did you?” He growls quietly.
I grin as I nod slowly, nuzzling his neck.
“What else is better on this side?”
“The getting fucked across it part.”
My panties aren’t even off my ankles before he’s buried inside of me.
A weekinto our French escape, a few familiar faces from home officially move in—Rosemary, Kevin, and Javi, along with Liam. Okay, by “move in”, I mean they move into a few of the cottages that surround the main manor. Which, still seems super elitist. But when I bring it up, Noel reminds me that privacy means he can have me virtually anytime, in any room.
He makes a strong argument.
It’s a few days later, while Noel and I are sitting out on the back patio in the gardens, when my phone dings with a text.
It’s a few days later that Kevin steps out onto the back gardens and patio to announce that we have a visitor.
Noel scowls.
“Who?”
“He says he’s a friend of yours, Master Ransom.”
I resist the urge to snort. Apparently, the whole “Master Ransom” thing is all Kevin; nothing Noel has requested. But when Kevin started doing it on day one of his employment, Noel was so amused that he just let it ride.
“A Mister Zima.”
I frown at the familiar name, my eyes darting to Noel. His face stays utterly stoic, but I can see the glint of something hiding in his eyes—what it is, though, is unclear.
“Fine,” Noel finally grunts. “Bring him—”
“My, my, Ransom.”
I whirl, blinking as a strikingly handsome man with dark hair and utterly piercing ice-blue eyes steps out of the house behind a flustered-looking Kevin. He’s wearing a casual but very chic and hip summer suit. My eyes dart to the tattoo ink at his wrists, on the back of one hand, and on his neck.
“A lavish vineyard mansion, a sports car or five in the garage, and a girl half your age on your arm.”
Noel glares at the man, who simply smirks back, flashing a white-toothed grin.
“You’re just all-in on this midlife crisis, aren’t you?”
Kevin looks aghast as he whirls back to Noel.
“Master Ransom, my sincere apologies—”
“It’s quite alright, thank you, Kevin.”
Noel’s butler nods, giving the tattooed man behind him a disapproving look before he darts back into the house.
“Master Ransom?” The man’s lips curl with amusement.
