move in with her. I never would have let that happen, though. I’ll never live with her again if I can help it. She makes me bananas.”
She crossed her legs and adjusted the fall of the robe, noting her hand was trembling. She was trying hard to keep a grip, but she still felt so stupid. She had thought Avery loved her and it had shaken her confidence in herself, in her belief that she could judge a character and even in her belief that she was lovable. Her voice quavered with old emotion and she couldn’t seem to steady it.
“Even though he had known me all that time, he wrote me off as only wanting his bank balance. He said I had always known his parents were sitting on that potential, that I had known money would come to him, and that everything I had done was a calculated investment in getting a piece of it. I did know about it. I had counseled his parents on whether it was better to sell the land before their death or leave it as part of their estate. Because he asked me to. And I didn’t charge them, by the way. Friends-and-family discount.” She picked up her fork and stabbed her egg and watched the yolk bleed out.
Henri reached for his phone and said very casually, “What is his name?”
“Jerkface McPants on Fire. Don’t bother ordering a hit. He’s not worth the bullet.”
He set down his phone again. “This is why you’re so sensitive about letting me buy you a meal or a dress?”
“Or a hotel room or a favor with my boss or a rental agreement as a mistress. I earn my keep, Henri. I refuse—I absolutely refuse—to become a kept woman. I’m aiming to start my own agency. I will not work my butt off to succeed only to have people say it’s because I was sleeping with a sexy French tycoon.”
“My sisters are constantly accused of succeeding with their design house because Sauveterre International underwrote it. Do you know how they respond to that accusation?”
“How?”
“By ignoring it. You do not owe explanations to anyone. You certainly don’t have to justify yourself to McFacey man. Stop worrying about what he thinks of you. As for opening an agency, I encourage you to send us a business plan regardless of the terms you and I negotiate for our personal partnership. Ramon and I are investors. We invested in Maison des Jumeaux because Trella wrote a solid plan that has exceeded all of our expectations. If yours shows promise, we may extend you a start-up loan. It won’t be nepotism. We do not offer friends-and-family discounts. When it comes to money, neither of us is influenced by sentiment or sexual infatuation. That’s why we’re rich.”
He was not joking.
She was crushed by his reduction of her to a sexual infatuation, but suffered an immediate urge to knock his socks off with her business acumen, wanting to secure a loan from him simply for the achievement of it.
She murmured, “I’ll think about it,” and returned to eating.
He made short work of his plate and freshened their coffee.
“I like the idea of you working for yourself,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I have a very busy life. It would be hard to find time to be together if you had a strict workweek.”
“I love the way you talk like I’m going to agree to be your—oh!” She leaned forward with mock delight. “Let’s use the French term, shall we? Courtisane.”
He gave her a flat look that grew into a considering one.
“An educated woman who values herself and her time? One who is not ashamed of her sex drive? Is that you, Cinnia?”
She sat back. “You’re trying to make it sound like that’s all it is. It’s not.”
“No, it’s potentially quite complicated. But seeing as you are so smart, walk through this with me. I am based in Paris, but I travel to New York at least once a month. I have an office here in London. I could work some of my time out of it, perhaps one week a month. Ramon and I would like to expand into Asia, but we’re already stretched thin. And I occasionally drop everything to fly home to Spain if my sister needs me. Tell me how much time we’ll have together unless you come with me for some of that travel.”
“Presuming I want to spend time with you,” she said tartly.
“Look at me,” he commanded in such a stern voice her heart stalled and her gaze flashed up to his. “Were you there last night? The bed is a pile of ashes, we set it so completely on fire. If you don’t want to do that again, fine. Get dressed and leave. I’ll never bother you again.”
His words spiked through her heart and she found herself pushing to her feet in a rush of pique, catching the wild flare of something in his eyes before she turned away and—
She halted, unable to make herself take another step.
Something hooked sharp and fierce behind her breastbone. Tears slammed into her eyes. She brought her fists up and pushed the heels of her hands into her clenched lids, catching a shattered breath. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t walk away from him.
“Idiot,” he said behind her, chair scraping before he pulled her back against his chest, strong arms encasing her, but in a way that felt secure and reassuring.
“I don’t want to feel this way,” she said in a whisper, voice breaking. All of her breaking. She was self-reliant. She didn’t need anything from a man.
But she needed him. This man. Who offered things, not his heart.
“How do you feel? Hmm?” One hand stole into the front of her robe and he cupped her bare breast, flicked her nipple.
She made a noise of pleasure-pain, instantly catapulted into memory and desire, but her nipples were so tender she covered his hand and stilled his caress.
“Sore?” he asked against her ear, nibbling in a way that sent shivers down her nape, all the way to the small of her back.
She arched, pushing her bottom into the hardness at his loins.
“You’re going to kill me, Henri. I ache all over and I don’t care. I want you anyway.”
“Ah, chérie. You’re hurting like this because you don’t want our time to end. I feel the same.” His mouth opened on the side of her neck, delicately sucking a mark into her skin. “But I will be very, very careful with you, I promise.”
His free hand went in below the belt and found her naked and slippery, already responding to being close to him. “You like that?”
“You know I do,” she breathed, tilting her head to the side so his kisses could reach all down the side of her neck. “But I don’t think I can.”
“Come here.” He backed up, bringing her with him.
She heard him unzip his pants and turned to see him putting on a condom. He sat in the chair and drew her to straddle him.
“Gently,” he murmured, taking it slow as he drew her down.
Even though she was tender, she breathed a sigh of relief when she was seated on him, full of his turgid heat and completely possessed by this terribly wicked sorcerer of a man.
