Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
He had a relaxed grip on the wheel, the light from the center console basking his face in a glow. “It served its purpose.”
“But at your expense.”
He came to another red light, but this time, he obeyed the law and stopped. He turned to look at me for the first time, and I was stunned by what I saw.
The most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.
Ruthless eyes that were as unforgiving as the underworld. Hard and chiseled bones in his face. Cords up his tight neck. Masculinity so potent it was toxic to breathe. It was hard to gauge his height when he was seated, but I could tell he would tower over me greater than the Eiffel Tower over Paris. And he was thick like a slab of meat. Not just his arms but his shoulders and his chest…everything.
He continued his stare like he’d asked a question.
I was as immobilized by his gaze as if it were a loaded gun. One blink and my life would be over.
“Where to?” he repeated.
The light remained red for what felt like an eternity. The intersection was deserted, but he kept his foot on the brake anyway. The city was quiet until the sound of sirens came from somewhere in the far distance, an ambulance passing through the streets to a civilian in need.
His coffee-colored eyes continued to bore into mine.
I remained speechless.
He looked ahead once more. “You’ve got nowhere to go.”
My apartment wasn’t safe. Someone was probably already sitting in my living room with a loaded gun, just waiting for me to walk in so they could execute me. Or hidden behind the door so I’d walk in and they’d end my life with a silencer attached to the barrel.
“Too proud to ask but too desperate to pretend.” His blinker hadn’t been on and he was in the lane to go straight, but he suddenly turned to the right and ran the red once he had a destination. “You can stay with me for a couple days.”
“Some man just tried to kill me. What if he follows me?”
“He won’t.”
“You don’t know what I’m involved with. The men who want me dead are dangerous—”
He chuckled like I’d made some kind of joke.
“I’m serious.”
“I know.” His smile continued for a moment, the lights from the lampposts we passed reflecting in his eyes. “I’m not worried about it. And if I’m not worried about it, you shouldn’t be either.”
Who the fuck was this guy? “Who are you?”
“Luca Fournier.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
He continued to drive with one hand on the wheel, relaxed and casual, like his heart rate hadn’t elevated once during this adventure. “My business is my business.”
“What if you’re dangerous—”
“I’m very fucking dangerous.” He made another turn and entered the 6th arrondissement, one of the most luxurious parts of the city, where apartments were in the millions and entire buildings were owned by celebrities and politicians and aristocrats, the other ultrawealthy. “But not to people like you.”
“People like me?”
“Women. Children. Innocents.”
“How do you know I’m innocent?” I watched the buildings go by, remembering a childhood spent among the elite, extravagant parties with fancy canapés and expensive champagne.
“Just a hunch.” He slowed the car when he approached iron gates that were thirty feet high, the crest of a garden in the center. They gently swung apart at his approach, and he waited until they were fully open before he entered the property.
A small driveway lined with cobblestone emerged into a roundabout with a fountain in the center. He came to a stop in front of double doors with two potted trees on either side, like this used to be the entrance to a hotel. Men flanked the door with rifles.
My spike of adrenaline was instantaneous.
Luca exited the car, and one of the guys got in. One of the guys with a rifle opened my door for me, like some kind of gentleman.
I stepped out and tried not to look like I’d just swallowed a bug.
Luca didn’t wait for me as he approached the double doors that opened for him like he was a king.
I followed and entered a majestic entryway as high as the gate outside. Full of Parisian artwork and enormous statues, it looked like the lobby of a luxurious hotel before it became a personal asset to this enigmatic man.
A butler appeared in a tuxedo, hands behind his back. He said nothing, just emerged and waited for orders. He glanced at me, dark hair slicked back with gel, a thick mustache across the top of his mouth. He looked at me like he didn’t know what to make of me but didn’t dare ask.
Luca had just texted on his phone before he looked at his butler. “Prepare the guest room for—” He turned to look at me. “Who are you?”
“Aliénor.”
He looked at his butler again. “Aliénor. She’ll be staying for three days.”