WindSwept Narrows: #20 Fleur & Liliana

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “Historically, males have been riding to rescue damsels in distress for generations, Fleur,” Dorian leaned back in time for the palm that shot into the air, thick dark lashes blinking and eyes flaring as a torrent of French began in a low hiss. And continued for several long seconds before she ended with a pouting glare and draining half the goblet of iced water.

  Chapter Two

  “Ahh…”

  “She said several things uncomplimentary with regards to men and battle and that you would be wise never to think of her as incapable of taking care of herself, despite the current situation,” Mac Lawson stood at his side, his palm out to Dorian. “Mac Lawson.”

  “Dorian Fields. Thanks for the interpretation.”

  “No problem. Hi, Fleur.”

  “Hello Mac,” Fleur continued eating, glancing around from the man dressed in a matching pristine black tux. “You are playing cards?”

  “Not tonight. Cassidy is monitoring a few potential problems. Interesting way to spend a Friday,” he said with a grin, his attention on Dorian. “Why the historical battle with the French?”

  “My brain works faster in French,” Fleur murmured testily.

  “I’m doomed,” Dorian said with a laugh matched by Mac’s. “A problem with a male guest who doesn’t understand boundaries or the word no,” he said easily, watching a look of understanding on Mac’s face.

  “Player?” Mac asked, brows drawn into a tight frown.

  “Yes. Fleur notified security.”

  “Ahh…I heard about that,” he met a set of almost midnight eyes watching him, only a little bit sulky, he thought. “Has he bothered you again, Fleur?”

  “After I was in the arcade, around four,” she admitted slowly.

  “And previously…” Dorian prompted, grinning at the slightly narrowed dark eyes. “Beautiful…but they need to know he isn’t taking their threats seriously, Fleur.”

  “I’ll let Cassidy know. Management frowns on this kind of thing, Fleur. You know that,” Mac shook his head slightly. “What continues to baffle a lot of us is why they believe it’ll be tolerated or accepted.”

  “It is behavior that has been tolerated for generations,” Fleur said with a quiet sigh. “Some battle it, some ignore it, others pretend it is not there. Still others are afraid to fight and hide, instead. Not unlike most things in life, eh?”

  “I’ll talk to Cassidy when she comes from the briefing,” Mac lifted a goblet of water from a passing tray.

  “You don’t seem to mind, Mac,” Fleur said.

  “A good excuse to get my wife into a long gown…and eventually on the dance floor, I hope after some dinner. Cassidy loves her job. I’d be an idiot to compromise that for her and I’m not and idiot,” he said with a wink at Fleur. “Nice meeting you, Dorian. And thanks for the information. Are you visiting or new to the area?”

  “Working for Mason Wells in the docks and piers area,” he answered easily, considering Mac’s words about his wife’s career.

  Fleur listened to them talking about engineering and computer programs, her gaze taking in the various gowns and ages of the women circulating and sitting together, many eyes glued on a monitor to watch the matches in progress.

  A woman entering the area caught her attention and made her smile. She spoke crisply to both guards before letting a pair of silver grey eyes scan the large room and land on Mac. Dressed in a sparkling silver gown, Cassidy Parker-Lawson was elegant and ignorant of it at the same time.

  “Hey,” she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Didn’t you promise me dinner?”

  “Hey, yourself,” Mac turned slightly. “My wife, Cassidy, Dorian Fields.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” she held her hand out for his when he stood and greeted her.

  “And Fleur has something to share with you,” Mac said softly, one brow up at the scowl from her.

  “I can speak with her on Monday,” Fleur said with a little nod. “Tonight should be for pleasure and enjoyment.”

  “Cassidy can’t function and deal with the issue without having the information, Fleur,” Dorian watched the stubborn jaw set and leaned closer while speaking. “Thomas Benton assaulted Fleur this evening, Cassidy. I think it was an open handed slap but as she decided to be stubborn about this, I can only guess by the coloring and size of what I saw on her face. She tells me he’s also continued to make overtures to the point where she’s been sleeping in an office in the kitchen.”

  “Fleur,” Cassidy sat in the chair Mac pulled out for her. “Why do you want him to get away with this?” She saw the instant flair in the dark eyes. “I don’t know how many other women he’s behaved this way towards. But I do know that eventually, one of them won’t have the support needed and might not get away from him alive. Is that what you want to hear about one morning when you see the news?”

  “You know it is not,” Fleur answered instantly, her voice soft and clear as she outlined what had been happening the last two days. She ended with a weary sigh and a little pout. “I do not like being unable to settle this on my own.”

  “Noted and believe me, understood,” Cassidy stood up and checked the little recorder she carried. “When you want self-defense lessons, call me, Fleur. Have a nice evening.”

  “That didn’t look so very painful,” Dorian said when the silence settled around them. “Being angry at me is a little misplaced, Fleur.”

  “I am not angry at you,” the answer came quickly to her lips and emphatically. “How something like this has such a wide effect on…on the lives of people. Friends. It is simply annoying.”

  “Good. Be annoyed,” he stood up and impulsively put a palm beneath her chin, tipping it up and laying his mouth gently over hers. “I’ll be right back.”

  The man almost ten years younger than him watched Dorian Fields leave the area. Cold eyes shifted to the woman sitting at the table alone. He had seen her the first day he arrived at the hotel. Beautiful, slender and curved at the same time. He liked the way the white tunic had fit her. She had nice long legs that looked good in short heels. And he wasn’t interested in whether she was married or not.

  She saw Dorian showing his identification at the door, marveling at the odd tingle racing through her when he smiled and came straight to her. She’d listened to Mia tell her of her romance with Lucas and admitted to herself that she was envious. She was so very happy with Scarlet and Lucas. Just the same happiness she saw in the aura around Cassidy and Mac. Bright and alive and filled with tomorrow, she thought, watching as Dorian took her palm from the table and gently pulled her to her feet.

  “I thought I was waiting here for you?” She looked around, her breath catching and eyes a little wider until his hand cupped her chin, turning her to look at him. She let herself stare into the sky blue of his eyes. “Dorian?”

  “Go find some dessert for us, Fleur,” his head shook slightly when he saw protest on her lips. “Please.”

  He watched her go toward the tables, her hands at her waist and a jagged breath drawn into her lungs.

  “Benton,” he said tonelessly, jacket open and hands in his pockets.

  “Fields. I didn’t know you were married.”

  “I wasn’t aware my personal life was anyone’s but mine and Fleur’s.”

  “I met her in the restaurant the other day,” he continued casually.

  “And if I find out you laid a hand on my wife again, you’ll lose it. I’m not as tolerant of bullies as she is,” Dorian kept his voice low, his gaze piercing and cold.

  “I’m sure she’s accustomed to men finding her attractive.”

  “Touch my wife and it’s me you’ll deal with, Benton. Are we clear?” Dorian continued to stare at him, his jaw clenched. “She informed you she wasn’t interested. She informed you she was married. Look up the meaning of the word no or your father and all his attorneys won’t be able to keep you out of jail.” He remained standing after the younger man turned and moved off to socialize as if they’d been discussing the weath
er.

  So distracted and furious, Dorian didn’t notice Fleur until she stood before him, one hand on a small plate of various desserts and the other on his arm.

  “Dorian? They’ve called your name,” she said quietly, her gaze following the direction his was taking. “He was here speaking with you.”

  “I have to go, Fleur,” but he leaned down and kissed her just because and tapped one finger on her cheek. “Stay here, please. I’ll be out when it’s finished.”

  “Enjoy your game, Dorian. I will wait here,” she promised smiling and accepting his nod as he walked toward the door, his glare on Thomas Benton as he entered the closed room ahead of him. She settled in the cushioned chair, watching the screen and the people preparing for the games. Watching the faces and lack of expressions was more than intriguing as most of them displayed little to those around them.

  Fleur finished off a taste of the little cakes and decided to wander the casino. She’d been there a little over eight months now and had spent time with her new friends in the arcade, but very little in the casino. They were going to wander and game and chat tonight. She drifted from table to table, watching the various games and dropping a coin now and then into the brightly colored and themed slot machines.

  She wandered leisurely back to the waiting room, smiling at the man on the door who stepped aside to let her enter. Fleur found a quiet seat in the corner near the window. Two views, she thought, gazing at the monitor as it scanned the room filled with men and women competing in the game. Her eyes moved to the window, vaguely watching flickering lights of planes, cars, buses and limos as they moved like small bugs around the massive parking area outside.

  The activity was outside the window but her mind was equally busy trying to catalogue the man who had entered her life a few hours ago. How did one decide it was time to care about another, she mused, crossing her legs and absently rubbing her hands along her arms. She could easily understand now how it would happen to you through your growing years. Boys with intelligence and simple skills of making a girl feel valued would have an easy time of it at that age, she thought. She had been so focused on cooking and learning, she barely noticed them.

  Perhaps her parents and grandparents had made her feel secure enough inside herself that she wasn’t in need of the admiration and platitudes boys offered. All in exchange for sex. She wondered what drove a boy at that age. They surely couldn’t have been in love with every female they wanted to have sex with? Could they?

  She thought back to the girls she’d known through those times and into culinary school. Some were driven, determined. Others much less so. To an irritating point of a new man in their lives every other week. Fleur had never given it much thought, although she found it annoying when she had a roommate and was unable to keep track of the names of men through the revolving doors.

  She knew her friends seemed to justify it as filling an empty space in their lives. With another human being. Did boys think the same way? Curious, she thought, a slight shiver racing down her arms. She watched the lights outside begin to shimmer and realized it had begun to rain, the trees lining the middle spaces of the parking area swaying slightly. She caught sight of the man approaching in the dark glass of the large windows and smiled when he came around to lean on the wide ledge so they were facing one another.

  “Round one over,” he said casually, frowning and opening the button of his jacket. “Fleur…you’re covered with bumps,” he shrugged out of his jacket, removing what he wanted and gesturing one hand. “Up…” He draped it around her shoulders.

  “Oh. My…you are very warm,” she shivered, her hands crossing over her and gripping the edges.

  “Which goes to show how very chilled you are,” he teased, his head shaking.

  “How was your game?”

  “Outrageous,” he said, grinning lethally. “Round two in a few minutes. This isn’t very entertaining for you and I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, no, please, I wandered the casino and have been watching the game. Very few people betray their thoughts,” she commented curiously, dark eyes meeting his. “I was never good at cards. I would jump and wiggle as a child when I had good cards,” she listened to the soft, deep laughter and felt another shiver only she knew it had nothing to do with temperature.

  “I’ll keep that in mind should we play cards, Fleur. We can go to the lounge after the final round for some drinks and perhaps dancing,” he waited for her to nod before bending lower and kissing her.

  “Why are you doing that?” She asked when she was sure her voice would work.

  “We’re being watched. Only a fool of a husband wouldn’t kiss his beautiful wife,” he teased softly. “I warned him and I’ve spoken to security about his behavior.”

  “I do not understand his behavior, Dorian. Perhaps if I had…had encouraged him in some way…”

  “Fleur, even if you had flirted or…or accepted an invitation, you still have the right to change your mind without violence being his response,” Dorian leaned back against the ledge, his frown deepened at the way Benton was studying her and trying to look casual about it.

  “Yes, yes…I understand that. It must be the challenge. That he sees I am unobtainable and he wants to press that issue,” Fleur shook her head and sighed.

  “Forget him. And feel free to tell me no, a word I totally understand and respect,” Dorian watched the eyes move to his. “Are you free tomorrow? For a more interactive date than tonight,” he added easily, warming considerably when she smiled and nodded. “Good. We’ll talk about plans after the next round,” he kissed her quickly and brushed his thumb over her chin. “Gotta go.”

  “Good luck,” she whispered as he strode off to the closed room.

  Chapter Three

  “A challenge,” she repeated softly to herself. Was that why he persisted? And why not him, but Dorian? Fleur’s glance went to the monitor, watching as it systematically panned the room. Their eyes, she thought immediately. Even in the middle of the game, Dorian’s hinted at humor and intelligence while he played cards. But in the eyes of Benton, she saw a fierce anger, fury even, she thought, another shiver that had her pulling the jacket closer. There was a darkness in his eyes that ran deeply.

  Was it genuine? Could one truly see into the eyes of another or was she creating something she wanted as an answer? Fleur sighed and shook her head, shifting back to staring out into the sparkling lights of rain and night. Thomas Benton certainly started off an the absolutely wrong foot, she rationalized. They both presented well, handsome. One younger than the other. One interested in others, the other interested only in self, she realized as she catalogued traits she’d been privileged to so far.

  A puzzled frown and a momentary groan of regret struck at the same time her phone chimed softly in her bag. Fleur pulled it free and read the text, quickly sending a message back and looking up at the monitor before sliding it back into the small purse dangling off her shoulder. She inhaled as she stood up, the scent that was not only male, but Dorian drifted into her as she crossed to the man standing guard outside the game room.

  Fleur pulled the invitation from his pocket and printed neatly across the back, sliding it into place before speaking softly to the guard and handing him Dorian’s jacket. One last backward glance was offered with a quiet sigh as she left the waiting area, her attention on the task ahead as she moved swiftly toward the kitchens and Mia’s office.

  ****

  Twenty minutes later, Dorian stepped from inside, his expression contained as his jacket and message were given to him. He thanked the man and shrugged into his jacket, pulling the invitation free and reading the precise printing on the back. He slipped it back into his pocket, casually striding to the kitchen where she’d taken him before. Dorian moved quietly and carefully avoiding people coming and going from the bustling kitchen. It amazed him that even at nine in the evening, things were still sizzling and moving busily around the very large room. No one questioned him and he could only guess it
was because he’d been seen earlier with Fleur. Blue eyes scanned the area, frowning when he didn’t see her there.

  “You’re looking for Fleur?” A young man asked, striding in behind him with a large tray filled with empty plates and silver.

  “Yes. She said she was called to help,” Dorian met the neatly clipped, clean shaven twenty-something with a smile.

  “She’s in the back up,” he nodded toward the far left. “Banquets, room service that’s outside normal food, ballroom stuff. Marlie went home sick.”

  “Thanks,” Dorian hadn’t noticed the other room was also a kitchen, smaller and very busy on a Friday night. He stepped to the double arched entrance and leaned carefully out of the way, watching. Part of him wasn’t sure why he’d come to the kitchens.

  Perhaps to see if her excuse was genuine. He turned and left the kitchen questioning himself as he wandered the casino, stopping to play an occasional game before heading to his room. Her things were gone.

  She doesn’t belong to you, he told himself as he prepared for bed. You’ve only just met her. You’re starting a new, encompassing position and don’t need the involvement with a woman to complicate things. He continued to tell himself that as he settled into the bed and darkness surrounded him.

  It was after three when Fleur shrugged out of the short sleeved once white tunic and dropped it into the laundry basket in the dressing room. The kitchens were closed for the night, only the short order room open until three. She crossed the floors being cleaned by the night crew, smiling sleepily as she went into Mia’s office and pulled the blanket she’d been using from the closet. She managed to stretch out and barely close her eyes before she was gratefully sinking into darkness.