THREE

MARIE

“Wh-what do you mean you were waiting for me,” I stuttered, realizing too late that I had dropped my French accent.

The knowing look in his eyes told me he’d realized too.

He smiled. “I mean that I’ve been waiting exactly for you, a beautiful woman, lovely, with an innocent heart. You’re exactly what I need to thaw my icy heart.”

“Why do you need it thawed?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He shrugged. “Isn’t it better that way?”

I shook my head, realizing too late that I was letting him lead the conversation and worse still, I was invested in it.

With other clients, manipulation came easily, I told them what they wanted to hear, and before long, they were spilling their darkest secrets to me, but this man…. If I was not careful, I would be tempted to spill secrets of my own.

“Tell me,” he asked softly. “Have you ever been heartbroken?”

“No – I mean yes... Haven’t we all?”

 The pain that came with the admittance was shocking, and I stared at the table a bit to catch my breath.

He nodded, getting up from his seat, and pocketing his phone.

“But you haven’t placed any order yet,” I reminded him, anxiously.

I did not know what to make of him. He had not established any kind of relationship with me or second date, if he walked out now, I would have to find another way to meet him again.

He smiled now, and his smile was dangerous, predatory. “I’ve met you now, I don’t need the Ritz. Let’s move over to my hotel room.”

I stared at him as he dropped a generous tip for the waiter. I’d never gone to a hotel room with a target before, most times, I got them to spill their secrets by simply offering them the promise of more.

I was about to turn around and walk out when I remembered the urgency I’d heard in Garrick’s voice, and the fact that he’d promised me a raise after this.

I nodded. “If that would suit you, I find you a very interesting man myself.”

“Ah!” He laughed, as we both walked out. “The French accent is back.”

All I could think of as we were chauffeured to the Hamilton hotel was how I would wiggle out of this without sleeping with him – I just couldn’t afford to sleep with this target.

Hamilton hotel was everything I’d imagined it would be. Exclusive in that way that screamed old money, with snobbish staff, and perfectly polished floors. His room overlooked the sunset, and the glow it cast left off an eerie feeling instead of the intended romantic one.

Every single one of my senses was screaming for me to leave, to keep running and not look back, Garrick could keep his damn raise to himself.

When I turned around, Peter was watching me intently. He’d taken off his jacket, and my eyes were drawn to the way the shirt he wore molded against his well toned muscles.

My breath hitched as he drew me into his arms.

“Now what?” I whispered, not knowing what else to say.

“Now, I find out just what stuff you’re made of Marie.”

If my senses were not already swimming, his knowing my name when I had not told him what it was would have been the red flag that sent me running out of that room, but then he pressed his mouth to mine, and I lost all trail of thought.

Memories flooded back, of when I had been held, and kissed, once I had mattered to someone – or thought I mattered, right until he inherited a fortune, and his parents decided I was no good for him.

My whimper turned into a moan as Peter kissed me, and then the sheer force of his presence blotted out any thoughts of Timothy, my fiancé from so long ago.

He kissed me with the ease of a man who already knew he would win. His lips were firm, confident, coaxing a response from me I had no defense against. I should have resisted—should have pushed him away, should have remembered who I was. But he didn’t allow resistance.

 His fingers brushed the side of my throat, and my pulse betrayed me, thrumming wildly beneath his touch. I felt like prey, caught and trembling, yet somehow craving the jaws that held me. He kissed me like this was inevitable, like my surrender had been decided long before I ever walked into his world.

And then, without warning, he let me go.

I stared at him with wide eyes, drawing ragged breaths as I tried to remember why on earth I’d let things get this far.

His eyes were unreadable – his entire face was an impenetrable mask, but there was curiosity in his voice when he spoke next.

“You kiss with a lot more inexperience than I expected. Or is that part of the act as well?”

“What act?” I asked, realizing too late that something was so wrong about this job, it looked like a set up.

Instead of answering, he drew me into his arms. “We’re about to find out.”

This time, I didn’t resist.

Maybe it was a drug, maybe something in the air, or maybe it was the fact that from the beginning, he’d been in charge, and I hated how much I loved to follow.

I realized to my shame that his victory didn’t take much. And soon, we were naked, in each other’s arms, and instead of uncovering Peter’s secrets, he uncovered one of my own.

That until him, I had never had a lover. My elusive slyness was actually masked inexperience.

He rolled off the bed, tossing on his clothes with practiced competence, his back to me, and for the first time since Timothy jilted me on my wedding day, I buried my head into the pillow and cried.

Without a word, he walked out from the room and the full reality of my situation hit me when I heard the sound of the lock.

My phone chimed then, snapping me back to reality, and I stared at the screen. It was a text from Glenda.

“Get away from the target immediately. It’s a set up, and I think Garrick is in on it.”

Still trying to make meaning of it, another text came in with a photo attached.

“This is your target isn’t he?”

The photo was of Peter wearing a grey Italian suit, looking even more imposing as he stared out from a docked yacht. The text at the bottom of the picture sent tremors running down my spine.

“That’s not Peter Portman, that’s Xavier Storm.”