Beautifully Broken (The Broken Series Book 2) (11 page)

I
dried off before stretching out in my chair. I opened a book with every
intention of reading, but I fell asleep instead.

 “Your
skin will burn under this light,
mon coeur,
” Michael whispered as he
softly kissed my cheek.

I
peered up at Michael. He was kneeling next to the chair. “It’s so warm,” I
murmured sleepily.

He
stood and reached for my hand.

I
placed my hand in his as my feet sought the floor.

Michael
hooked his arm around my back as he pulled me from the chair. He released my
hand and trailed his fingers down the low cut halter top. “This looks amazing
on you.”

My
pulse quickened as he pulled me against his chest. “Thanks,” I responded
breathlessly.

He
nuzzled my neck, then whispered seductively in my ear. “We best get you dressed,
unless of course you’d like to skip dinner…” His hand brushed brazenly over my
breast, then slid down my side before settling on my hip.

I
opened my mouth to object, but his lips met mine in a provocative kiss. I gently
pulled away. His eyes heated, so I tried to keep things light. “Okay, Okay! You
don’t have to maul me. I’ll get dressed!”

Michael
groaned, but he grabbed my hand and led me out of the room. Rafael was nowhere
to be seen. Michael snagged a bottle of red wine from the wine cellar on our
way back to the room. He opened the bottle and sent me to the bathroom with a glass
of wine.

I
took a quick shower and toweled off. I tugged the bathrobe on and downed the
wine while I applied makeup and styled my hair.
Liquid courage
, I
thought. I was still wearing the bathrobe when I wandered back into the bedroom.

I
stopped short at the sight of Michael. He had already changed into black dress
pants, a crisp white shirt with cuffed sleeves and brushed silver cufflinks,
and a deep burgundy and silver tie. His jet black hair hung in waves just below
his collar. A black suit jacket lay over the top of a nearby chair. I forced
myself to look away. The guy looked so devastatingly handsome that I doubted
there was a woman on the planet who could resist him.

I
was walking toward the closet when I discovered a black cocktail dress draped over
the edge of the bed. I glanced at Michael in surprise. I reached for the dress,
curious about what he’d selected for me to wear. The dress plunged in a
beautiful drape that would fall dangerously low across my back. I glared at
Michael when I realized the cut of the dress would make it impossible to wear a
bra.

He
raised a single eyebrow, daring me to object.

I
dropped the dress on the bed and walked into the closet, intent on finding something
a little less revealing to wear. I was reaching for another dress when Michael
grabbed me from behind.

He
nibbled at my ear. “
Ma chérie,
you don’t really think you can get away
with that?”

As
Michael spun me around, he slid his hands inside the bathrobe. One hand pinned
me against his hips while the other slid from my hip to my breast. Michael
didn’t wait for my response. His mouth captured mine as his thumb traced seductive
circles around my breast. I whimpered as he pinched my nipple into a hard peak.
“You really don’t want to deny me the pleasure of seeing you in that dress,” he
murmured in a warning tone. His lips abandoned mine as he trailed open mouthed kisses
all down my neck.

I
cried out as Michael bent me back. His tongue flicked teasingly over my breast before
he latched on with a long, drawing pull that completely curled my toes. “Okay,”
I gasped. “Michael, I’ll wear the dress!”

Michael
didn’t release me until he had completely consumed both breasts. I clung to him
as my entire body clenched. “Please,” I rasped. “I’ll wear the dress.”

Michael’s
voice was husky when he finally spoke. “I had hoped you would require
additional convincing.”

I
stood speechless as he strode back into the bedroom. He returned with the
dress. I snatched the dress from his hand and clutched it in front of me until
he left. I tugged a lace thong over my hips before pulling the dress over my
head. I rubbed irritably at my chest. My nipples could easily be seen pressing
against the soft silk dress. I gave up and stalked back into the bedroom
completely annoyed. “Were you feeling strongly about the shoes too?” I asked
sarcastically.

Michael
laughed as he scooped a pair of strappy heels from off the floor. “Not
particularly.” My heart was pounding as he handed me the shoes. He chuckled. “Perhaps
you should think twice about playing with fire,
mon coeur
?”

I
scowled at him as I perched on the arm of a chair and strapped on the four inch
heels. When I stood, Michael slowly twirled a finger through the air,
indicating that I should turn around. I huffed out a breath in complete exasperation
before slowly turning in front of him. I glanced over my shoulder, a bit
concerned about what he might do next.

His
eyes were nearly black when they met mine. “I doubt we will make it through
dinner before I rip it off.”

I
gasped. I slammed my mouth shut as the words
you wouldn’t
rose to my
lips.

Michael’s
eyes sparked. “Oh, yes, I would.”

I
muttered irritably under my breath as I stormed back into the bathroom. I pulled
my hair up into a messy upsweep, not because I wanted to look nice, but because
I wanted to give Michael some time to cool off.

Michael
draped a silver pashmina over my shoulders when I returned to the bedroom.
“Shall we?” he inquired with a smug look.

I
didn’t bother responding.

He
laughed as he ushered me out the door and into the limousine.

We
were in the car for a whopping ten minutes. The driver pulled up to a dock
along the Seine River. I glanced at Michael questioningly. “I thought we were
going to dinner.”

He
smiled as he helped me from the car. “We are.” He didn’t offer any further explanation.
He seemed to be enjoying my confusion as we walked toward a private yacht.

Rafael
met us at the side of the boat. He reached for my hand as he helped me step
across. His eyes met mine as I joined him on the boat. “
Bonsoir,
Madame
Stone.”

“
Bonsoir
,
Rafael,” I responded, just as he released my hand.

Michael
stepped onto the yacht and immediately tucked me under his arm. “Rafael,” he growled
in an irritable tone.

My
eyes flitted between the two men. I suddenly realized I’d never seen them
together before. I wondered if they’d had some sort of falling out.

Rafael
seemed completely unfazed by Michael’s tone. He nodded once. “Enjoy your
evening,
Monsieur
.” He put a great deal of emphasis on the last word.

Rafael
glanced at me before bowing slightly and walking away. Two other gentleman
disappeared into the cabin with him. Like Rafael, they were dressed entirely in
black.

Michael
led me up a short flight of stairs to the second floor of the yacht. My breath
caught at the sight of a small table set for two with white linens, crystal
wine glasses, and white porcelain china. Three candles, nestled inside silver votives,
flickered in the center of the table. A beautiful bouquet of deep red roses was
lying on the edge of the table next to one of the plates.

I
was still struggling to speak when Michael tucked me into one of the chairs. He
handed me the card that had been secreted inside the flowers. I opened the envelope
as he took his seat. He had written his message in French, just as he always did.

Je
ne rêve que
de
ce
que l'avenir
nous réserve
.
Tu es
mon
coeur, mon
espoir,
ma vie.
Amour
, Michael.

I
only understood a few of the words, so I looked at Michael expectantly.

He
reached for my hand. His lips brushed against my fingers before he spoke. “I
dream only of what the future holds for us. You are my heart, my hope, my
life.”

Goose
bumps danced along my arms as Michael’s eyes held mine. “
Merci
,” I
whispered softly. It was impossible not to be affected by the emotion in his
voice, his face, and eyes. There had always been a part of me that wanted to
love Michael, but he had approached our relationship with reckless abandon from
the very beginning. His consuming personality had frightened me, not because I
thought he’d hurt me, but because he threatened the control I had clung to
throughout my abusive marriage. Kadyn had gently and methodically torn down the
walls I had built around my heart, leaving me vulnerable to Michael in a way
that I had never been before.

A
waiter approached our table with a basket of sliced baguette. He poured
sparkling water and Beaujolais into our glasses, just as the yacht pulled away
from the dock. Soft jazz played from speakers hidden along the deck.

Michael
raised his wine glass. “
Santé
.
”

“Santé
,
”
I responded, clinking my glass against his. I could barely tear my eyes from
the Eiffel Tower, which was glowing softly against the dusky sky.

The
waiter returned a few minutes later with two bowls of chestnut soup. “
B
on appétit.
”

“
Merci
,”
Michael and I replied as one.

“
B
on appétit,
”
I repeated to Michael, before reaching for my spoon.

He
smiled. “
B
on appétit, mon amour.
”
His eyes sought mine as we sampled the soup. “Do you mind if I ask you
something?”

My
spoon paused in mid-air. “No,” I responded warily. I set the spoon back inside
the bowl.

“What
did you feel for me when we first met?”

His
question caught me by surprise, so I took a few minutes to think about it. Michael
and I first met at the gym. He struck up a conversation after asking to work in
between my sets on the leg press. I asked about his accent because it was so
uncommon for anyone in Montana to have a foreign accent. This inspired a rather
lengthy conversation about where Michael was from. He kept talking and continued
working in with me as I made my way down the weight machines. I was instantly
attracted to him, both physically and intellectually. He was well-traveled, a
bit mysterious, and extremely intelligent. His seductive tone had a mind numbing
effect on me; and the fact that he looked like a Greek God certainly hadn’t
hurt. He asked me out to dinner at the end of our workout, but I negotiated him
down to lunch, thinking it was safer for a first date. As I reflected back on
our first encounter I glanced back up at Michael and tried to explain. “I was enthralled
with you.”

Michael
nodded. “I wanted you the second I laid eyes on you.”

I
knew that was true. There had been an intensity about Michael, a look in his
eyes that made it physically impossible to breathe. He had been incredibly attentive
and romantic on the first date, even though we had only gone to lunch. I had
suggested we meet at the restaurant, but he insisted on driving. He brought me roses
and kissed me on both cheeks when he picked me up. He opened doors for me, kept
his hand on the small of my back when we walked, and he acted like no one else
in the world even existed when he was listening to me. The one red flag had
been how annoyed he became with our waitress when she interrupted our
conversation. Still, I found Michael fascinating. He was unlike anyone I had
ever met before.

Our
lunch date lasted for hours. I had been so captivated by Michael’s stories that
I didn’t want the date to end. Michael ordered a bottle of wine, so I was a bit
tipsy when he finally took me home. I was totally unprepared for the way he
kissed me goodbye, because he’d been such a gentleman all afternoon. He
completely ravished me as he pressed me up against my door.

I
was shocked by the intense desire he had stoked in me; it had been in such
stark contrast to what I’d felt in my marriage. I seriously doubted my ability
to resist him, so I didn’t invite him inside my apartment. Still, when he
insisted on taking me out to dinner the next night, there wasn’t a single part
of me that wanted to say no. I looked back up at Michael and confessed, “I had
never wanted anyone the way I wanted you when you kissed me at the end of our
first date.”

Michael
looked relieved. “Then you felt it too?”

I
nodded, although I wasn’t entirely certain what “it” was. The very next day, I had
asked the owner of my favorite wine store to recommend a wine that would
impress someone from France. I wanted to do something special for Michael, to
thank him for that first date, and a bottle of wine seemed like the perfect
gift. The wine had cost close to fifty dollars, but I was thrilled with the expression
on Michael’s face when I handed it to him.