Broken by a Dangerous Man

by Cleo Peitsche

  “Maybe,” I said. But I did remember in far too much detail. The chilly look on his face as he’d said, Where I come from, a marriage proposal is a marriage proposal.

  “Too bad,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t marry you if your memory is already going, studded heels or not.”

  I felt myself blushing furiously. I wasn’t even sure what we were discussing anymore. In some strange, roundabout way, were we talking about getting married?

  Though I guess that ship had sailed. When I’d seen him looking at the engagement rings, I’d thought he was planning to pop the question. I’d had time to work through it all. And he knew that I’d thought that.

  Yet another thing we hadn’t discussed… and wouldn’t discuss if I could help it.

  “You know what?” I said. “If I ever get married, I’ll be the one doing the asking.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, sounding so amused that I couldn’t decide if I wanted to smack him or fuck him.

  “Come here, baby.” He pulled me onto his lap.

  I could feel the cool steps under my knees, but I didn’t care about getting dirty, or the problems we’d had recently, or anything. My hands on the inside of his forearms, I leaned down close to him.

  Corbin’s lips brushed against mine. The first touch was almost innocent, but then he pulled me closer, and all I could think was, I’m kissing Corbin Lagos in Paris.

  Chapter 19

  By the time we got back to the hotel, I was floating so high on a cloud of bliss that nothing could have brought me down.

  Corbin and I were strong… Nothing could hurt us.

  Though maybe I was drunk on adrenaline from the breakneck motorcycle ride back to the hotel. It had been like an amusement park ride, and like at the amusement park, I’d closed my eyes and held my breath until it was over.

  I tossed my jacket onto a chair and slowly untied the boots. “Do I get to keep these?” I asked.

  “Unless you don’t want them,” he said.

  He didn’t seem to care either way, which I took as a very good sign. I’d enjoyed the bike rides, but I didn’t want them to become a regular part of our lives.

  I would have worried too much.

  “I’m calling room service,” Corbin said. “Crêpes, champagne… anything else?”

  “Up to you. When you’re done with the phone, can I call home? I want to check up on things.”

  Nodding, he picked up the receiver. I sat quietly by, listening to his familiar voice saying unfamiliar words.

  It was strangely hot.

  Someone knocked on the door just as Corbin was hanging up.

  “That was fast,” I said. I lay on one of the couches and stretched my arms over my head, and I thought about how I’d come to Paris expecting to break up with Corbin, but instead I felt closer to him than ever.

  “Well, I guess I’ll get it,” Corbin said with a sexy little smile.

  “Sorry,” I said. But I just felt too comfortable to get up.

  He caressed my cheek as he walked past. He peered through the peephole, then turned to look at me. “Baby, you might want to get up,” he said. His words weren’t what scared me; it was his voice, solemn and controlled.

  I scrambled to my feet. My heart pounded.

  Corbin opened the door and I saw uniforms, belts, radios, boots.

  The women and men spread out over the hotel room. Corbin was in conversation with a man wearing jeans, a turtleneck and a blazer. In fact, he looked like he was copying Corbin’s outfit from before.

  And then I realized… He really was dressed identically.

  “Corbin?” I asked.

  “In a second, baby,” he said, turning back to his conversation.

  Their sweep finished, the agents filed out of the room. They were utterly quiet except for the dull thuds of their heavy boots on the floors.

  I wrapped my arms around myself and sat on the edge of a chair to watch.

  The stranger finally parted, and Corbin closed the door and turned around.

  “That was interesting,” I said, shaken.

  He nodded. “The informant escaped. No, not escaped. He slipped the leash.”

  My gaze went laser-focused on Corbin. Only one thought went through my mind. Corbin wasn’t surprised. He had known the informant would get away.

  “Why were they looking here?” I asked. “Why was that guy wearing the same clothes as you?”

  Corbin ran his hand through his hair, and he looked away. “Because they tried to set something up using him as a decoy. It… didn’t work.”

  Did I want to know why they were trying to make a decoy for Corbin?

  No, I did not. I absolutely did not. The look in his eyes said he wouldn’t be able to tell me.

  It didn’t matter… I was with Corbin, and no matter what insanity came hurtling at us like a runaway truck coming down a mountain, we were together.

  The crêpes were delicious, and the champagne was, too, though it was also too sweet.

  Not the right combination. Even I could see that, though Corbin was kind enough not to point it out.

  We ended up tangled in the sheets, but I fell asleep before it went very far.

  Embarrassing.

  I woke with soft moonlight coming through the window, and I was instantly wide awake.

  It was official. Jet lag sucked.

  Corbin had said that in the morning, he would still be going “in,” so I knew it wouldn’t be fair to wake him.

  But after a few minutes, I realized I wasn’t going to get back to sleep. I turned over and discovered that I was alone in the bed.

  Slowly, I got up and walked through the darkened suite.

  No Corbin. It was only four in the morning, so I didn’t see how he was working already. But there was no note.

  I picked up my phone to text him, and I saw I had several missed calls from Rob. No voicemails.

  A fast text to Corbin brought back a faster response. I went for a run to settle my mind. Already on my way back.

  So I called Rob.

  “Are you sitting down?” he asked, his voice grim.

  “No,” I said firmly. “But there’s a big chair behind me.” Already my mind was racing through the possibilities of what could have gone wrong.

  Dad could be back in the hospital. Frances might have torched the office. The office renovations blew through the budget. Rob got drunk and cut his hair into a mohawk again.

  More realistically, it had something to do with Massimo.

  “Neil came out of the coma and says Massimo did it,” I said, the words so heavy on my tongue that I barely got them out.

  “Actually, Neil is out of his coma, but he doesn’t remember anything from that morning. The doctors say he probably never will. But that’s not why I’m calling.”

  “I’m sitting down,” I said as I lowered myself into the chair.

  “It’s Henry,” Rob said. “Don’t ask me how, but he’s getting released tomorrow. Audrey?”

  “I have to go,” I whispered. “Thank you for telling me.” I hung up the phone and made my way back to bed. As I snuggled under the covers that still smelled like Corbin, I realized that it didn’t matter.

  Even assuming Henry still had revenge as his first order of business—and I didn’t assume that—Henry coming after me wasn’t the problem.

  The door opened, and the problem walked in. He was breathing a little heavy, and he looked so sexy in his running gear.

  “Hey, baby,” he said. “Join me in the shower?”

  “I think I’ll just lie here for a bit,” I said.

  If I didn’t want blood on my hands, I had to find a way to keep Corbin away from Henry.

  ~ ~ ~

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