by Ruff, K. S.
He leaned against the frame of the door and silently studied me.
I shook my head when I realized I had instinctively responded in French. “Yes, Rafael, please come in.”
He took one step inside the door. “Monsieur Garcia’s flight has been delayed. He suggested I take you out for coffee. There’s a nice café on the Avenue des Champs-Élysées that is within walking distance from here if you would like to go.”
I set my Kindle on the table. “That sounds wonderful,” I responded. I was certain the fresh air and coffee would help soothe my nerves. I smoothed my hands over the wrinkles in my dress as I rose from the chair. I had chosen a soft, feminine dress to wear for Michael in dusty hues of green and pink.
Rafael and I walked in silence, which was awkward to say the least. He kept stealing sidelong glances at me, but he seemed reluctant to speak. I wondered if it had something to do with his behavior at the spa. The tension eased from his face by the time we reached the café. “Would you like to sit inside or out?” he asked.
The café’s outdoor seating area was framed by an ornate metal fence with an opening in the middle. Pink, lavender, and white flowers were scattered in decorative flower boxes that hung over the fence. The area inside the fence was peppered with small metal tables. Each table held only two chairs. The sun was shining and the temperature was pleasant, so it was an easy decision. “Let’s sit outside,” I replied with a smile.
Rafael chose a table in the far corner, away from the other patrons. He pulled a chair out for me just as the waiter caught sight of us.
The waiter approached as Rafael took his seat. He bowed slightly as he greeted us. “Bonjour, Madame, Monsieur.”
“Bonjour,” Rafael and I responded simultaneously. We exchanged amused glances.
The waiter handed us both menus, poured our water, and walked away. He returned the second we set our menus on the table. “Êtes-vous prêt à commander?”
“Oui.” I responded. The waiter looked at me expectantly, so I continued. “Je voudrais une tasse de café.”
Rafael raised an eyebrow at me. He looked mildly impressed, like he hadn’t expected me to know enough French to order my own cup of coffee.
I smiled. I was used to Michael ordering for me. Still, coffee ranks pretty high on my list of priorities, so that was one of the first phrases I learned. Michael had helped me perfect it, so I was certain I had spoken it flawlessly.
Rafael ordered a long list of things in French.
The waiter didn’t write a single thing down. He smiled, bowed politely, and walked away. He returned a few minutes later with two small cups of coffee, creamer, sugar, a large bottle of sparkling water, and a basket full of croissants and other assorted pastries.
“Merci,” Rafael murmured before the waiter walked away.
Our eyes met. “Thank you,” I commented softly.
“For what?” Rafael asked. He looked surprised by the show of gratitude.
“For this.” I waved at the table. “For bringing me here.” I held the cup of coffee up to my nose and inhaled deeply. The aroma was divine. I took a sip. My eyes fell closed when the rich, earthy concoction slid over my tongue. The taste that lingered hinted at chocolate. I had to bite my lip to prevent an audible moan. It was hands down the best cup of coffee I’d ever tasted.
When I opened my eyes again, Rafael was grinning at me. “So you really like coffee, huh?”
I smiled. “Not like. Love.” I took another sip and envisioned at least four other cups lined up in front of me. I was certain it would total no more than a grande from Starbucks. I still couldn’t get with the French and their very small cups.
Rafael laughed loudly. “I like you.”
I glanced up in surprise. “Good to know, especially considering your job. How did you manage to get roped into babysitting me, anyway?”
He shrugged. “I am the only person Monsieur Garcia trusted to protect you.” He reached for a croissant.
“Why?” I persisted. I took another sip of coffee and eyed the croissants.
Rafael studied me, as if weighing his response. “In case you haven’t noticed, my brother is deeply in love with you.”
I choked on my coffee. “Michael is your brother?”
Rafael was grinning again. He seemed pleased to have dropped that little bombshell on me. “Yes, my older brother.”
I couldn’t wipe the stunned look from my face. “Then why in the world do you refer to him as Monsieur Garcia? Aren’t you two on a first name basis?”
Rafael shook his head. “Not when I’m working. You know how he is. We have to maintain a certain degree of separation.”
I rolled my eyes. “Michael and his degrees of separation.” I drained my coffee cup before reaching for one of the chocolate filled croissants. I tore off a piece and popped it in my mouth. “Since we’re on this topic, I’m going to confess I really hate it when you refer to me as ‘Madame Stone.’ It makes me feel a hundred years old. Can’t you just address me as Kristine?”
Rafael shook his head. “Michael would lose his mind if I addressed you by your first name.”
I had figured as much. I frowned into my empty cup. “What was your job before I came along?”
“I worked in security,” he responded vaguely. He waved the waiter back over and ordered two more cups of coffee.
I watched the waiter walk away. I lowered my voice to a whisper when our eyes met again. “Does it concern you… the threat posed by the people your brother works for?”
His eyes clouded briefly. “Michael could be targeted simply because he has money. His business associates pose no greater threat than the common thief. You shouldn’t let them concern you. Like Michael, I am very good at what I do. I assure you, you are very well protected.”
The waiter returned with two cups of coffee and two egg, ham, and cheese sandwiches. “Bon appétit,” he encouraged jovially before sauntering off to another table.
I stared at the sandwiches. I couldn’t figure out why the egg was sitting on top of the sandwich when the ham and cheese were tucked inside.
“Croque Madame,” Rafael said, nodding toward the sandwich.
The Croque Madame didn’t look like the type of sandwich you could eat with your hands. I glanced at Rafael, silently questioningly whether I should use a fork.
He laughed. “I’ll admit, it’s not your typical sandwich.” He reached for his fork.
I followed his lead and took a tentative bite. The sandwich tasted far better than it looked. I took a few more bites. Then I reached for my coffee and waited for Rafael’s eyes to meet mine. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done to keep me safe, especially since Michael has been gone.” I paused as I reflected on Justin’s abduction and the abuse I suffered at the hands of my ex-husband. I spoke quietly as I continued. “My life has been threatened countless times over the past ten years. I haven’t really felt safe since I was a child. It’s nice to know there’s someone looking out for me.”
A confusing array of emotions flitted across his face. Sympathy, anger, and something else I couldn’t identify. “It is truly my pleasure,” he responded softly.
We sat at the café for hours. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed Rafael’s company. He was so reserved when Michael was around. As far as storytellers go, he gave Michael a run for his money. He spun fantastic stories about Michael as a child. Stories I tucked away so I could tease Michael later. He also confessed that while Michael had done quite well at boarding school, he had managed to get himself kicked out for beating up other kids. He had to finish out high school in Portugal. When he saw the look on my face, Rafael quickly explained that he only beat up kids who were bullying other children. I found it fascinating, given his current line of work.
We chatted amicably all the way back to the house. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the bedroom, where I resumed my internal debate. I was still questioning whether I should reveal my feelings for Michael.
The cook delivered
a tray for dinner, but I ignored it. Michael’s absence was gnawing at me. I had grown accustomed to his constant affections, and our separation had left me feeling needy, which was incredibly unnerving. I wondered if he had missed me as much as I had missed him. I wondered where he went, what he’d done, why he didn’t take me, and whether he’d seen another woman. I could hardly blame him given how long I’d been dodging his affections. My heart clenched at the thought of losing him to someone else.
I was standing on the balcony in our bedroom with my arms wrapped tightly around me. The front of my body was bathed in soft sunlight. I was watching the sun slink behind the back garden. Michael had only been gone for two days, and I was at a complete loss about what to do with myself. I gazed out over the impeccably manicured gardens, my eyes settling on the two lovers carved in stone. What would Michael do when he discovered how I felt? How much longer could I resist him, knowing what I now knew? Should I resist him? Did I even want to?
I stood there staring out over the gardens for some time before the smell of citrus, cedar, and cloves gently enveloped me. I felt the warmth from Michael’s body behind me. I hadn’t even heard him enter the room.
Michael wrapped his arms around me, gently tucking me into his chest.
A shiver ran through me as I savored the feel of his body locked so enticingly around mine. “You’re back,” I whispered with a smile.
“Tu es tellement belle,” Michael murmured as he lifted my hair. His lips brushed against my neck. He left a long, lingering trail of kisses from the back of my ear to my collar bone. The gardens disappeared as my eyes fell closed. I melted into his chest as he began kissing the other side of my neck. Michael’s hands moved seductively over my body, skimming slowly over my hips, stomach, breasts, and neck before turning me around in his arms. I opened my eyes slowly, hesitant to break the spell he had woven around me.
Michael’s expression seemed pained, but his eyes softened the moment they found mine. He raised his fingers to his lips before capturing my face in his hands and lowering his lips to mine. Michael’s tongue quickly breached my lips as he locked our mouths together in a heated kiss.
My eyes flew open in surprise at the sweet taste in his mouth. He tasted funny… wrong somehow. I tried to pull away, but he tightened his grasp and deepened the kiss even more. A tingling sensation built inside my chest, then spiraled seductively through my blood. Heat wove through my abdomen, then raced down my arms and legs with an intensity that stole my breath. My toes curled at the sensation.
Michael pulled me back inside the bedroom. “Tu m'as manqué. I missed you, mon coeur,” he murmured against my lips. He resumed the kiss as he grabbed my hands and forced me up against the wall. He pinned me with a well-muscled thigh before ravishing me with his lips.
My heart beat a thunderous score. “Michael,” I gasped. “What are you doing?”
A low growl rose from his chest as he flipped me around and unzipped my dress. “I’m claiming what’s mine.”
I shivered as the dress fell to the floor. “Michael…” I whispered pleadingly.
He forced my arms above my head and pressed the front of my body into the cold wall. “Do not move,” he warned in a threatening tone. He ran his fingers down the back of my hands, my arms, across my back, my bottom, and legs… all the way to the heels of my feet.
My nails raked the wall as every inch of skin he touched lit with need. I was shaking by the time he worked his way up my body with little nips and open mouthed kisses. I knew then that I was going to cave. My body was literally crawling for him.
Once Michael got back up to my hands, he abruptly turned me around. His lips met mine in a brutal kiss before he unhooked my bra. He pinned me back against the wall and resumed the ritual, dragging his fingers down my body and kissing every inch of available skin on his way back up.
Then he released me. The only thing pinning me to the wall now was his heated gaze.
My heart raced as he peeled off his shoes and socks. I watched his fingers skim every button as he loosened his shirt and pants and let them fall to the floor. His boxer briefs fell on top of the pants. The light from the window danced off his golden skin. I marveled at how he could look so dangerous and beautiful at the same time. I took a tentative step forward.
Michael grasped my thighs, hiked my legs around his waist, and pinned me back against the wall. He pressed his hips against mine. “Can you feel how much I want you, ma chérie?”
“Yes,” I rasped.
Michael kissed me long and hard. I locked my arms and legs around him when he began sucking on my tongue. His hands raked wickedly over my body, stoking an already insatiable need. By the time he lowered me to the bed, I had lost all ability to think. The only thing I could do was feel… Michael… everywhere. I lost all track of time as he continued branding my body with searing kisses.
I clenched the sheets as Michael pulled my panties down. He nibbled at the inside of my thigh. My body arched painfully as I pleaded with him. “Please, Michael…”
His eyes locked on mine. His voice was gruff when he spoke. “Please, what?”
God, help me. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t speak. I could only feel, and Michael had stopped moving when every inch of my body was screaming for more. I was trying not to sob. Oh, God! I don’t want it to stop.
Michael refused to touch me. His eyes were completely black as they bore into mine. “I want you to say it,” he growled.
I groaned as I reached for him. “Michael, I want you.”
His eyes grew fierce. “More than anything?”
“Yes,” I choked out.
Michael’s eyes continued to hold mine. “Or anyone?” he demanded in a threatening tone.
“Yes!” I screamed. I blinked back tears as my head fell back against the pillows.
Michael pinned my hands above my head as he nudged my thighs open and slammed into me.
I hissed in a breath. I was shocked that he hadn’t eased into me. My hands clenched in his as I tried to breathe through the pain.
Michael bit at my chin and lips. His tongue swept possessively through my mouth as he claimed yet another part of me. He moved his hips in slow seductive circles until I relaxed enough to savor the feel of him buried so deeply inside of me.
“More,” I whispered wantonly.
His control slipped as he drove into me. “You’re mine, Kristine. You belong to me.”
“Yes,” I conceded as his body slammed into mine. I sank my nails into the back of his hands as my body began to pulse around his. He cried out as he thrust one last time. The room fractured into shards of colored light. Red… gold… green… and blue shimmered, then blurred into unrecognizable colors as they wound tightly around our bodies. Then everything exploded… the lights… the room… our bodies... into a million beautifully broken pieces.
* * * * * *
The early morning sun tugged my eyes open as it slinked across my face. I reached for Michael. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head buried in his hands. I sat up, suddenly alarmed. “Michael, what’s wrong?”
He didn’t respond.
My heart beat erratically as I crawled across the bed. I slid to the floor and kneeled at his feet. Slowly, I removed his hands from his tear stained cheeks. “Mon cherie, please… you’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong.”
Michael looked completely wrecked. He muttered something in French. Finally, he began speaking words I could understand. “Je suis désolé, ma chérie. I am so sorry about last night. I do not know what came over me. I missed you terribly. I wanted you so badly, I… I lost my mind.”
Fiercely erotic memories flashed before me. I shook my head, recalling the sweet taste in his mouth. “Michael, what happened last night? What was that? Did you put drugs in my mouth when you kissed me?”
“Oui.” Michael responded despondently. “I thought it would help.”
My jaw clenched. “Help what?”
His eyes filled with shame as he loo
ked away. “Help make you want me.” His shoulders fell as he bowed his head.
My eyes widened. Michael was just as broken as I was. My anger dampened as I sat staring at the top of his head. I took a deep breath and slowly reached for his face. “Michael, I don’t like taking drugs. I have been drugged before, and I don’t like losing control like that. When I feel something, I want it to be real. Besides, I wanted you before you gave me the drugs.”
“You wanted me?” he asked numbly. He looked up but his eyes were glazed, and he didn’t appear to see my face.
I searched for the words that would help him understand. “Oui, seulement toi.”
Michael’s eyes cleared. “Seulement toi…” he repeated.
“Oui, Michael. Seulement toi.” This time, I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I captured his face in my hands and kissed him… gently at first, then more forcefully. Desperate to convince him, I crawled onto his lap and pushed him down onto the bed. Then I poured every last ounce of love I owned from my body into his.
Chapter 16 – Chasing pavements
Another month slipped by before Kadyn finally got the break he was looking for. Once again it was Dan who uncovered the missing piece.
Kadyn had just left the Pentagon. He was driving his car into DC, so he could look over the security measures his communications team had established for the Secretary of Defense’s speech at the Mayflower Hotel. He wasn’t supposed to be on his cell phone in the District, so he promptly switched the incoming call to the Bluetooth system in his car.
Dan’s voice boomed over the speakers. “Kadyn, I’m about to make you a very happy man.”
Kadyn’s heart stopped. Still, he didn’t miss a beat. “Finally, the skip tracer pulls through,” he murmured sarcastically.
Dan laughed. “Navy boys aren’t known to back down from a fight. So cowboy up, partner, because you’re about to get the girl.”
Kadyn couldn’t help smiling at Dan’s optimism. “I have a meeting with the SecDef in fifteen minutes. You mind picking up the pace, cowpoke?”
“Okay, so short story made long…” Dan goaded.