AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What’s on your mind?” he asks. I can’t tell him. He’ll think I’m crazy or trying to manipulate him.
When I don’t respond right away, he steeples his fingers over his knee. “Something wrong?”
I decide to go for broke. If the man can tell me he’s the head of a damn mob, I can tell him what’s on my mind.
“I was just thinking that any woman who was treated this way might… well, be the luckiest woman alive.” He sits completely still, which makes me start second-guessing myself, but I don’t stop talking. “I just… well, men don’t do things like this. Like… breakfast in bed. Remembering the details of a perfect day then making it happen. And are those clothes for me in those bags?”
“Of course.”
“I just—well, you’re paying me two million dollars. You could walk out of here and not come back until you needed me again, but you haven’t done that. You’re… massaging my back and buying me nice presents and doing sweet things like kissing my forehead.”
He leans forward with a half-smile and kisses my forehead.
“So?”
“So… I was just thinking it would be nice if this wasn’t just a weekend.” When a frown creases his forehead, I continue in a rush of words. “Don’t think for a minute that I’m not grateful and that I’m trying to change a thing, I’m not, I promise.”
“I know you aren’t. You’re not that kind of woman.”
“I just… was thinking that if a woman was treated this nicely, she just might be convinced that treating her man as well as he treated her was something she was very much interested in.”
“I see.”
I take a bite of scrambled eggs and follow it with another sip of coffee.
“Well, glad we got that out of the way.”
He smiles, but this time it’s almost sad. I feel as if I’ve only unearthed the very surface of who he is. That we need more time to understand each other better. I wonder if there’s anything he could tell me that would make me want to walk away.
Am I that needy? That full of myself that I think I can change a man just by virtue of forgiving whatever darkness lies beneath the surface?
Well, no. I just know that humans are complex creatures. That we make snap judgments of one another all the time, without really knowing why people behave the way they do, without understanding their motives. If you’d asked me ten years ago where I’d be today, never in a million years would I have said I’d be a call girl, earning money for my sister’s future. If you’d asked me a month ago where I’d be, never would I have imagined I’d be in Fabien’s bed in a stately home in Paris about to earn two million dollars.
Life is funny like that.
“You’d better finish that up. You have some… how did you put it… comfortable clothes that fit you perfectly to put on before we head into town.”
“Do you have perfect recall?”
He nods. “Something like that. I remember details.”
“Ah. I suppose that suits the line of work that goes hand in hand with that closet full of disguises, then?”
“It does.”
“It’s an interesting… side job for someone of your stature, though, isn’t it? What do your brothers think? Your mother?”
“Of what?” He’s fully clothed in casual pants and a tee that fits him so perfectly I want to run my hands along his sculpted biceps and pecs.
I decide to go for broke. He hasn’t lied to me, so I won’t lie to him. “That you’re a con artist.”
“Oof. When you put it that way, it sounds terrible.”
“Well then, let’s not talk about my job.”
“Deal. And to answer your question, only my brothers know because I’ve used my specific skill set before. My mother has no idea, and she really prefers to not be involved in any of our business.”
“That’s fair. Not sure I’d want to know what my mafia sons were doing either.”
He snorts.
“Alright, so I know I said on the plane a perfect day included shopping. Well, since we’re here in Paris... I’m thinking that I’d like to modify that a bit. Do we have enough time before the wedding?”
He glances at his phone. “We do.”
“Alright, so instead of shopping, which I could do literally any day and totally will once I make two million dollars, I was thinking that I’d rather give those disguises a go. Maybe we can even call it… practice.”
When he turns to me, there’s a fire in his eyes that stokes my own curiosity. “That’s probably the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
A warmth of pleasure courses through me at his approval. “Is that right? I’ve said a lot of sexy things, so that’s really something.”
Seconds later, the breakfast lies forgotten and Fabien shows me exactly how he rewards sexy talk.
