by Rena Marks
I don’t care what he calls it. Time has cooled his anger—and heightened my ardor for his father. If that is possible.
Nico gave him a small stipend to live on. Jordan whined about how he could barely live on the amount. I know differently. Ordinary people live on much less every single day of their lives. But Jordan is used to a different lifestyle.
I feel bad for him, but he made his bed. Still, it doesn’t stop me from agreeing to meet him for lunch. Conveniently, it’s a day when Nico is in a board meeting. I don’t think he’d approve otherwise.
As I enter the marketplace, heading to the outdoor patio of several small eating areas, heads turn. I’ve lived here most of my life—but my hair is unusual in color with all the darker-headed natives.
Jordan’s eyes gleam. Part of me saddens. He’s still so handsome and I love him so—but not in the way I love Nico. No, I sadden because by seeing me arriving to meet him for the lunch he’d invited me to makes him think he has manipulated me again. He thinks he has won. Briefly, I wonder if this was a mistake.
“Jordan.”
“Leesha. Sit down.” He sweeps his hand out with a flourish, and I see he’s already ordered. There’s an assortment of bread and cheese, fruits and meats. A glass of wine sits on my end. I’d like to point out that his father would hold my chair for me, but I don’t want him to think there’s a chance of him competing for my attentions.
“How are you?” I ask him.
“Nearly broke.” His eyes are cheerful, though. “It’s not even the middle of the month and I am nearly out of money. I told you this wasn’t enough to live on.”
It certainly wasn’t necessary to splurge on my lunch. However, I have a feeling that Jordan buys lunches for more than just himself. He has no idea how to budget his money.
“Still happy with my dad?” he asks casually, popping a slice of cheese between his lips.
I reach for an olive, the briny taste filling my mouth. “Yes. Very.”
“If it’s possible, you’re even more beautiful,” Jordan acknowledges. “It’s as if you’ve bloomed.”
He spears a slice of star fruit with his cocktail fork.
I don’t acknowledge the compliment since he doesn’t seem happy with my sexual blossoming. “No word from Stephanie?”
He grimaces. “No. My dad was right about that. Damn it.”
“Why was he willing to marry her?”
Jordan shrugs. “That’s something you’ll have to ask him.”
I feel my cheeks heat. That is something I should have asked him in the last two weeks—except we’re not doing much talking. There are too many things to explore, positions to try, kisses to share.
“I love you,” he blurts out. “I’ve always loved you.”
“I know,” I say sadly. “I’ve always loved you, too. But not in the way—”
“I know,” he interrupts.
But I’m stunned. I realize—if he hadn’t stopped me—I would have said not in the way I love Nico. For the first time, I realize it’s true. I love Nico. I have always loved Nico, even when I didn’t know I loved him.
I continue on, my voice softer. “I was trying to project a love onto you.”
“Someday I’ll find someone as good as you,” he swears.
“I’m not good,” I protest.
“You are, Leesh. In fact, it makes me ill to have to ask you this…”
And here it comes. I feel a pang of disappointment, but I knew this was coming.
“You need to ask him to give me more money. I can’t live like this. You don’t know what it’s like! Suffering and scrounging for pennies like a…”
“Commoner?” Nico’s voice is mild as his hand clamps heavily onto my shoulder.
Jordan’s eyes are wary as he looks at the figure behind me. I drop my head down, aware there’s a confrontation brewing.
“Is everything all right, monsieur?” The restaurant owner has raced from inside, making sure there’s not a scene. Making sure business is not disrupted—but well aware someone as powerful as Nico could make or break him.
“It seems my son needs money, Pierre,” Nico says. “Do you have work available?”
The restaurant owner splays his hands out, confused as if this is a joke he’s not aware of. “We have need of a chef in training. But—“
“He has always liked to help in the kitchens. It wasn’t something I encouraged, one of my many parenting skills which I now regret. To be fair, I was young and wanted to give him everything.” Nico sighs and sounds as if he’s turned fully toward the owner. “He will work hard. If he doesn’t, treat him as you would any other employee. Let him go. I know it’s a lot to ask, as he hasn’t had any formal culinary schooling. But he’d be someone you can mold and shape to your own needs.”
“Of…of course, sir. But—“
“Don’t do it as a favor to me,” Nico says. “I want to make it very clear that Jordan would be any other employee. He’s allowed no favoritism. I will continue to frequent your establishment with or without his presence.”
The owner nods and looks to Jordan. “Monsieur Barreau, I will see you tomorrow at noon? You will watch and observe the lunch crowd and begin the preparation for the dinner surge.”
Jordan raises his eyes to the restaurant owner. “Call me Jordan.”
For the first time, I’m happy with Jordan. Finally, it seems he understands there should be no status between us and every other person in the city. We were allowed a certain protocol because we were the children of Nico Barreau. But the owner would not call any other of his employees by anything but their first name. And Jordan—by using his own name and not a formal title—is acknowledging that he is willing to give this an honest try. He’s not going to sit around and wait for Nico to hand him more money like he’d feed seed to a bird.
The owner nods quickly and barrels back indoors. All around us, the patrons continue to eat their meal as if nothing has happened.
“Good choice, son.” Nico’s voice has softened. “For that action, I will allow Felicia to continue to enjoy her lunch with you.” The fingers on my shoulder tighten slightly. “I will expect you home in an hour.”
My eyes are on Jordan as Nico leans down and presses a kiss to my temple. And then he’s gone, as quickly as he came.
“I hope I didn’t get you into trouble,” Jordan says.
I smile, though I’m not sure if it reaches my eyes. “I’m not a child.”
“No,” Jordan says. “You’ve never been a child. On the other hand, I refused to grow up.” He clenches his napkin in his hand, the white fabric wrinkling. “I guess this is my moment.”
I smile lightly and raise my wineglass to him. It appears he is right. “You’re a diamond in the rough. Go shine, Jordan.”
Chapter Five
Nico is standing alone in the courtyard when I pull up. The driver opens my car door and takes my hand to help me from the seat. I want to slow my actions, delay my confrontation with Nico for as long as possible. But the inky depths in his dark eyes watch me, brooding with a slow-simmering storm.
I walk toward him as the driver pulls away from the long circular driveway in front of the mansion. When I reach him, I stand directly before him. It’s awkward. He hasn’t reached out to touch me in any way and I’ve gotten used to his possessive pulls.
“You snuck away from me.”
I raise my eyebrow. “I didn’t sneak away from you. You were long gone when I left for my lunch with Jordan.”
“You never mentioned meeting him, ma petite. That is sneaking.” His voice is a familiar growl, and it gives me a sense of security. This, I am familiar with. The brooding, lonely Nico baffles me.
“What would you have said?”
“That he wishes to use you to get to me for more money. Was I wrong?”
“No. But whether you’re right or wrong isn’t the point.”
His thick eyebrow rises haughtily. “And what is the point?”
“The point is this is somethi
ng I have to deal with myself. I have to be the one to turn Jordan down—or come to you and talk about whether or not I think his treatment is fair.”
Nico’s jet-black lashes blink so swiftly I think they’re going to tangle. He looks adorably confused. “You would dare to come to me to barter for more money for Jordan?”
“If I felt his treatment was unfair, yes. But I don’t. I think Jordan working will be good for him.”
“He gets a reasonable amount to live on.”
“I know.”
He seems surprised that I’m siding with him on this. Did he really think I was this blind to Jordan’s faults?
He holds out his arm for me to take. I grip his hand instead, twining my fingers with his. He looks pleased as he stares down at us for a moment, and then we stroll through the flower garden. The smell of sweet roses fills the air. It’s a happy smell and I love this moment. This small bump in the road we’ve worked through. I don’t want to mar it—but while he’s agreeable I need to know.
“Why did you ask Stephanie to marry you? After all this time, after so many girlfriends. Why now?”
He stops and turns toward me, looking surprised at the question. “I tried to move on. I couldn’t have you. I tried to tell myself that I was your guardian—only your guardian. Always and forever. To want you as a woman is wrong. So instead I would replace you.”
“It was that simple?”
His voice is wry. “Apparently not.”
Chapter Six
He pulls me to him and wraps me in his strong arms. My heart thuds against his chest, relieved to be held by him again. How could this one moment in time make me so happy?
“I could not get you out of my mind,” he murmurs. “You are my weakness, my strength, my everything.”
“As you are mine.” Vaguely, I realize my arms are locked around his waist so tight, I wonder if he can breathe. “Never worry about me with Jordan. You are all I see, Nico. All I have ever seen.”
“Sweetling, you are too good for me. One day you may realize that you are all goodness and light inside, and you will wonder why you waste your days with me.”
I giggle and drop my hands to caress his tight ass. “I know why I waste my days with you.”
He mock-growls and sweeps me into his arms. Striding back toward the house, he kicks the door open with his foot. I’m aware of the staff scurrying out of the way, smiles wiped quickly from their faces as he takes the stairs two at a time.
“No interruptions,” he yells out over his shoulder.
I burst into laughter and it carries down the stairs.
* * * * *
Much later we are cooling off. Nico’s weight is on his arms, but his body covers me, his head resting in the crook of my neck, his cock still deeply embedded in me. I love this moment when there is nothing between us.
“Mila.”
“Excuse me?” The feminine name sounds adorable with his accent. Mee-la. But he has confused her with me, so I pinch his buttocks in warning. “I am Fe-leesh-aa.” I mimic his thick drawl.
He laughs, raising his head. “If I had a sweet little girl who looks like you, I would like to call her Mila.”
My heart stops in my chest. Is he telling me he wants a child? With me?
“Not today, mon ange.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “I wish to have plenty of time to enjoy you without distraction. But perhaps one day.”
He flips us, slipping from my body during the process. I settle on top of him into my usual spot.
Is he telling me this…thing…that we are doing is long term? That he is sharing—without words—that he loves me as much as I do him? He is not ready for the words, for some reason. It is okay, I will wait. Because he thinks he owns me—but one day I will own him.
“I will think on it, mon canard.”
He is very still. His voice gurgles with laughter. “Did you just call me your duck?”
“Maybe.”
His fingers begin tickling me, but it leads to soft petting instead. Vaguely I’m aware of the doorbell ringing—but I’m aware the staff has been told no interruptions, so I crawl my way down his body.
Taking him into my mouth ensures it will stay that way.
* * * * *
I’m going over the dinner menu with the cook when the head housekeeper stands in the doorway. Nico is gone for the day for a meeting in Spain. He will return in the morning, so it is a good day to get all my chores done before being locked in the bedroom with him.
“Are we all set?” I ask.
“Oui, oui.”
Cook waves me away, already focused on the dishes she will prepare. I head over to Mrs. Freir, our housekeeper.
“You wish to see me?” We head into the living room.
“Oui. Yesterday, after you went upstairs with Monsieur, there was a visitor.”
I was right about hearing the door chime, apparently.
“Who was it?”
“It was her. Stephanie Bellamy. She was not happy about the order for no interruptions. She asked for monsieur first, and then for you directly.”
I’m sure that made her angrier. It would have told her we were together. There was no point in asking if Mrs. Freir knew what she wanted. Stephanie would never lower herself to entrust lowly staff with her business. But it was interesting that she was poking her nose around. Very bold, actually. Did she want to apologize to Nico? Beg his forgiveness for her indiscretion? Perhaps even beg for Jordan to get his hands on his money early.
That must be it. She thought if she could get his trust fund to him, she’d settle for him. Because surely Nico would have nothing else to do with her.
I know what I will do. I will send her away with no promises to talk to Nico regarding Jordan’s money. It will force her to seek Nico and she can feel his wrath over her affair.
“I’m available today if she stops back by. If not, don’t worry about it.”
I smile at Mrs. Freir, and she looks relieved to not have to deal with Stephanie again. She nods.
“She is the devil, miss. I am glad not to have to tell her there is no one available.”
I smile because I’ve seen Stephanie’s fits. All aimed at the staff when Nico was not around, of course.
Mrs. Freir’s relief is short-lived. It’s a mere hour later when I’m upstairs and hear the doorbell again.
Chapter Seven
Stephanie waits in the foyer, the click of her high-heeled shoe tapping rapidly against the marble floor in her impatience.
I heard the commotion she caused with the staff. She is in a rare mood today. A pit of heaviness at having to deal with her weighs in my belly when her visit is announced, but I shrug it off. I agreed to do this.
Ms. Freir frets, wringing her plump hands in her apron. “Would you like me to send her away, Ms. Barreau?” Apparently, she is worried about Stephanie’s dangerous mood also.
It’s also funny…now that the staff knows of mine and Nico’s new relationship, they’ve subtly switched from addressing me as Miss Barreau to Ms. Barreau. I don’t mind. I know it’s probably awkward for them. They watched me grow up—they know I share the last name since my mother’s marriage to Nico. And now they know I sleep with Nico.
“No, Ms. Freir. I’ll deal with her.”
“I’m sure she only came because she’s aware Monsieur Barreau is away from home. Nothing good can come from her.”
“No. But we’ll give her enough rope to hang herself.” I grin and a new respect comes from the housekeeper.
“I will have Louis wait nearby to escort her from the premises afterward?”
I nod my head and walk into the foyer once Ms. Freir opens the heavy doors that separate the waiting area in the foyer from the rest of the house.
“Stephanie. Welcome. I’m sorry you wasted a trip, but Nico is in Barcelona today. I will tell him you stopped by.”
“I know where Nico is,” she says, her eyes narrowing on my outfit. It’s as if she wonders if the designer clothes I wear should be hers.
“I came by to see you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a child,” she mocks. “You were to have been my stepdaughter, and it is up to me to protect you. Nico has…perverse desires. He has always craved you and it was I who kept him away from satisfying such an abhorrent fetish.” She checks her manicured nails for nicks, frowning slightly as if she’s found a dull spot.
Wasn’t she just a saint for checking on my welfare?
“Nico has never harmed me. If you were truly worried about my well-being, I can’t imagine you would have deserted me for my boyfriend. Jordan?” I remind her of his name mockingly.
All glimmer of pretense leaves her heavily mascaraed eyes. There is no naturalness about Stephanie—she’s completely made up. False eyelashes, false fingernails, false boobs. “You little bitch! How dare you? I loved Jordan. I miss him dreadfully. But I had to give up the one true love of my life to protect an innocent child, whether she wants it or not. Even now, I will seek out Nico’s desires—focusing them on me to re-route any forbidden attention he’s placed on you.”
“Where were you when I was actually twelve? I could have used a loving stepmother instead of Nico’s bumbling explanation when I received my menses.” I mock-laugh. Of course, I know the answer. She was probably fifteen. As much as she tries to keep me in my place and call me a child, we both know that’s not the case.
I decide to keep her on her toes. I don’t want her to know anything about Nico and me. I’m afraid if I tell her that her days of routing his attentions are over, she’ll focus her scheming to Jordan instead. He’s doing well with learning his way in the art of culinary cuisine, and he doesn’t need Stephanie’s manipulations.
“Stephanie, I appreciate your concern. Feel free to seek out Nico’s desires—it doesn’t matter to me one whit. He has never been anything other than my guardian.” My voice is light when I speak, even though my gut is churning. Nico was attracted to Stephanie once—he could be tempted again should she offer. I have to trust that he is done with that.
