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On Saturday, I wander around aimlessly for a while, not having to work on anything for the first time in months. It’s a cold, gray day with clouds rolling in from the sea. I try to read in the tower, but the wind howls around the corners.
Hold on. I know why I’m so listless. I’ve left the debacle about dropping out of fashion school unfinished. There’s something I need to do.
I go downstairs to look for Maxime and find him behind his desk in his study. The door stands open. Lines of worry run over his forehead and around his eyes. He’s so engrossed in his work he doesn’t notice me. I knock because he still keeps the room locked, which means I’m not welcome inside.
He looks up and smiles. “I’ve just been thinking about you.”
“You have?” I wave at the groove between his eyebrows. “It doesn’t look like pleasant thoughts.”
“Come here.”
I pad over the floor to his desk. “I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to say thank you.”
He gets to his feet and rounds the desk. “For what?”
“For making the fashion school possible. I just realized I never thanked you. I’m sorry for being so rude.”
A fresh frown meets his smile. “I didn’t take you for being rude, but I appreciate your gratitude.” He shoves a hand into his pocket. “You’re welcome.”
I study him. He seems oddly formal this morning. It’s not like him not to touch me when we’re standing so close together. Usually, he can’t keep his hands off me. He’s always looking for excuses to kiss and fondle me. On any other morning, he would’ve had his hands on my hips and his mouth on mine by now.
“Okay,” I say, swiping a strand of hair behind my ear.
“For whatever it’s worth, I think you deserve—”
I hold up a hand. “You don’t have to make me feel better. I did my best.”
“There are other schools.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine.” Madame Page proved her point. I don’t have what it takes.
“I know how disappointed you are. You haven’t been out of the house since the fashion show.”
I glance at the window. “The weather hasn’t been good.”
“I think you need to get out, Zoe.”
“Get out where?”
“Go to a movie. Do some shopping. Have your hair done. Whatever makes women feel good.”
“You mean alone?” Except for meeting Sylvie and going to school, he’s never let me go anywhere alone. As Sylvie and I haven’t spoken since the night I discovered her deceit, I’ve only been out to school on my own.
“I have a meeting. There’s no reason why you should be cooped up in the house.” He reaches out, hesitates, and finally cups my cheek. “Go on before I touch you more and change my mind.”
The opportunity is too rare not to jump at it. I can take a long walk on the jetty and lick my wounds in solitude. Alone time sounds exactly like what I need.
“Thank you,” I say, my heart warming with gratitude.
“Dress warmly and no chatting to my men. They’re there to protect you, which they can’t do if a pretty woman distracts them.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, Dad.”
His gaze heats. “Are you sassing me, Miss Hart?”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll have to pull you over my lap for that when you get back.”
I go on tiptoes to kiss him. “I look forward to that.”
He regards me with amusement as I backtrack to the door, the controlling and possessive Maxime silent for once.
“Do I have a curfew?” I ask, pausing in the frame.
“Just let me know where you are. I’ll be busy until late afternoon. You don’t have to be back before dinner.”
There’s something intense about him as he watches me leave. It’s as if he’s fighting with himself to let me go.
I put on my coat and scarf. Making sure my telephone is charged, I drop it with some money into my bag. I always have a stash of cash, courtesy of Maxime. He calls it my emergency fund, as if he doesn’t already take care of my each and every need.
Outside, Benoit jumps to attention.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask. “Aren’t you freezing?” I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. He didn’t have to hang around on a Saturday.
“Nah.” He rubs his hands together. “I was running errands for Maxime.”
“I’m going into town.”
“My car or yours?”
“I’m taking some me time.” I flash him a smile. “I’m driving alone.”
He curses under his breath, hurrying to the Mercedes when I hop into the new Mini Cooper Maxime has bought for me. Two guards follow in his steps.
Throwing the car into gear, I leave the gates before Benoit has had time to start his engine. I grin as I look in the rearview mirror. His wheels are kicking up gravel in his attempt to catch up with me. I can try to shake him off and maybe even succeed, but I do feel better that he’s tailing me. No matter how many times I tell him I don’t need him, I appreciate the protection.
