Deceived - Part 2 Paris (14 page)

 “I would
love
to see the Moulin Rouge show. I’m really feeling much better now. It will be fun.”

How did he know I liked dance so much?
He had an uncanny ability to tune into me like that, and I’m certain that I had never told him about my years of dance lessons.

After finalizing our plans for the evening, my concern for Ryan and his gallery pooped back into my mind. “What should I do about my work here? I’m sure Ryan is swamped, trying to find an artist to replace Francisco. I really hate to disappoint him and leave him behind. He has been so nice and sweet to me through this whole thing.”

“I’ve already talked to Ryan about it. He told me that he had sent for another assistant from New York. She will arrive tomorrow, so don’t worry about it. There is no way you can work now, like this,” he said jutting his chin in the direction of my shiner. “You need a break...some time off. But have you given any consideration to what you are going to do when you go back to New York?” He pulled me over to the edge of the bed, to sit on one leg of his lap, twirling his fingers in my long hair, hanging down the length of my back.

“No, not really, not yet. I mean,” I sighed. I hadn’t had time to think about my next job, but just thinking about how to pay the bills, nagged at me like that annoying itch you can never reach on your back. “It all depends, I guess.” I shrugged and looked down at the invisible pattern I was tracing with my finger on Patrick’s jean covered thigh.

“You know there are not a lot of job openings right now. So, here’s my suggestion. Why don’t you come back and work for me at Meyer and Meyer? We can figure out all the details later. “He cocked his head to one side, giving me an inquisitive look. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

“Thank you, but no way,” I said in exasperation and jumped up off his lap. “I’m not working for the Baroness.”

“No, of course not. None of us are. I already gave her account to someone else in the firm.” He stood up gesturing with one hand, palm up. “I called Frank this morning and told him about...well, our conflict of interests and he agreed it would be better to assign her account to Jeff.”

“Are you sure?” I blew out a breath with relief. “Well, in that case, I guess I would love to come back and work for you Mr. Patrick Collins.”

“Well then that’s agreed. Now, go get ready for our dinner date, ” he chuckled and sent me trotting off to the bathroom with a swat on my rear. Halfway there I turned back with a gasp. “But…what about my face? I look awful.”  

“We will fix that with some makeup, my dear. Besides,” he called after me. “You are beautiful just the way you are.”

“Aw, baby, you are wonderful.” Just give me half an hour to get ready.”

“Sure, I’ll check out some sports on TV.”

I quickly applied some concealer to my bruise and finished doing my hair and makeup. As I came out of the bathroom, Patrick was relaxing in a chair watching TV.
 

“Ta-da, how do I look?” I said.

Patrick stood up and looking at me said, “Beautiful as ever. Hey, take a look at that young guy on TV? He’s American and he just won some kind of big Motocross tournament here in Paris.” He pointed to the TV.

“Really? What’s his name?”

“I don’t know, Jesse something,” he replied.

As I looked over at the TV, there he was, my handsome Jesse rider from the flight, soaking wet from champagne that was being poured over him by two beautiful Parisian women. “I wonder if it’s Dom Perignon” I thought with a smile to myself.

***

Over the next couple of hours, we escaped out into the warm summer evening in Paris to enjoy dinner at the Restaurant Le Meurice, a sumptuous Versailles-style salon, where the food was served on plates, custom designed by the chef. The dining room gleamed with crystal, mirrors, bronze and marble. In between staring at Patrick’s handsome face across the table, my attention was drawn to the antique frescos and the open wine cellars, which I’m sure held vintage bottles of wine with names I couldn’t even pronounce.

I sighed, placing my fine white linen napkin across my lap and marveled at Patrick’s presence with me. I was ecstatic that we were here, that destiny had thrown us back together again, placing our souls on the crosshairs of love.

As my days in Paris were coming to an end, I thought about everything that had transpired since my first footstep off the plane, hitting the Parisian ground.

“Paris is over-the-top when it comes to fashion design. Everything is so chic and the shops are full of ultra-trendy designs. I could easily go broke here,” I chuckled.

Patrick beamed across the table, enjoying watching my eyes dance like facets of a gem. “Did you see that tote bag in the window at the Vanessa Bruno boutique? Her mother was a Danish supermodel, you know, and her father a famous fashion designer, that’s how she got her start in the biz.” Being a fan of oversized designer purses, I had eyed a sequin-encrusted tote bag in the window, on our way to dinner, sure to put a dent the size of a boulder in my pocket book.

Patrick ‘s voice warmed as he reached over the linen covered table to take my hand. “Chloe, I love being here with you, showing you Paris, taking you out. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I just want you to know that I should have come to you sooner. I mean, after I last saw you so upset, I was an idiot to wait.”

I smiled and looked down as he circled his thumb across the smooth skin on the back of my hand. “I was stupid myself. Leaving the best thing that ever had come my way, stranded on a beach.” I shook my head and he leaned in clasping both of his hands over mine.

“I’m here now and I’ll be here for you forever. Chloe, I love truly you.” he whispered smoothing his hands over mine and pressing my fingertips to his warm lips.

I swallowed hard as my emotions fluttered up in my throat and my heart twisted like a lemon wedge being wrung out over a martini. I pulled his hand up to my cheek and tilted my head into his palm.

“I love you too, Patrick. I just want to stay here in Paris and for this feeling to never end.” I remembered feeling this way with him before, a spring evening, when I rolled the window down in his car, letting the warm night air whip at my hair inside his Jaguar, the night we went to Ryan's New York gallery. I was so happy the feeling had returned.

We finished our meal and headed out to the show at the Moulin Rouge, with its windmill covered in lights, to finish out the night. Every once in a while he shot me a knowing glance and said, “I’m glad you are back to your old self, Chloe.”

We stopped for a nightcap at Harry’s New York Bar, famed as a haunt of Hemingway and the birthplace of the Bloody Mary. I just had to have one of those to pay tribute, both to the author and to one of my favorite drinks.

Leaning in closely, Patrick whispered in my ear, “Is it just me, or do you feel the same? I just want to get out of here and get you naked in the room.”

“Hmmm… You’ve read my mind.”

***

I couldn’t remember the last time I woke up this happy. Patrick’s eyes fluttered open and his long languid look filtered across my face, like the morning light streaming in the window. Propping himself up on one elbow he said, “I could wake up next to you for the rest of my life, beautiful.”

           
I blushed and said, “Aww, me too baby. How long can we stay here? When will they need you back?”
           
Rolling in towards me, he lightly laughed, brushing his lips to my temple and mouthed the words, “I’m here to take care of you, for as long as you need.”

I closed my eyes to absorb his words when a noise rustled me out of my peace.

With an irritated huff, Patrick rolled over snatching his vibrating cell phone from the nightstand, a frown creasing his brow as he answered, “Hey Frank. What’s up?” I knew from the expression on his face and the recognizable name that it was Frank Meyer, part owner of Meyer and Meyer.

“You what? Hey...hold on, you’re breaking up.” He got up and went out to the balcony.

I could tell from his gestures through the window, that something was up and it didn’t look like good news. As he came back inside, he faltered in the doorway, his phone in his hand and a dark mood covering his face.

“You better start packing your bags honey. We are going back to New York on the next flight out of here.”

“W-why? What happened?”

“You won’t believe this. It was Frank Meyer. He just sold his part of the company, to none other than Baroness Anna Von Lamberg.”

“You’re kidding me.” My jaw dropped to the floor. “That manipulative conniving bitch. You know why she’s doing this, don’t you? Since she can’t have you, she’s now buying you.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I already have a plan. I promised you earlier, that the Baroness would be out of our lives, and I always keep my promises.”

“So, what’s your plan? You know her first agenda will be to fire me.”

“Probably, but that’s the beauty of my plan. It doesn’t matter. This time we will be a step ahead of her. Trust me. We will turn the tables. She will get what is coming to her. I will put my foot so far up her ass, that she’ll be spitting my toenails out her mouth!”

I couldn’t resist anymore. I laughed so hard at his imagery that tears came to my eyes. I jumped right into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. He clapped both hands firmly on my butt cheeks, while I slid both of my arms around his neck. Placing my mouth passionately on his lips and pouring my soul into him, I exclaimed,

“I love you, Patrick Collins.”

*** To be continued in Part 3 - “Chloe’s Revenge”, the dramatic conclusion of Deceived, coming March 2013***

***

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Much love,

First, I would like to thank all of my readers. Without you, my books would not exist. I truly appreciate each and every one of you. I would also like to give a big “shout out” to the girls in the Smutty Book Whore Mafia on Facebook. You girls rock! Without your connections and support, ”Deceived” wouldn’t have had such a good beginning. I enjoy the humor and candor with which we interact, not to mention the awesome photos!  :)
 
They give me lots of inspiration for writing my steamy sex scenes. I especially want to thank, Andrea Gregory, Helen Read and Belkis Williams for beta reading Deceived Part 2 and being my biggest supporters.

 
A big “thanks” goes out to all my Twitter followers and Facebook friends, all several thousands of you, who keep me tweeting into the wee hours of the night.

Finally, I would like to thank my editor and book cover designer, Primrose Book Editing and Design. Thanks for all of your help and clever ideas.