Beautifully Broken (The Broken Series Book 2) (18 page)

I
couldn’t respond. I was shocked that this was what the argument had been about.

Rafael
determinedly repeated himself. “You will be receiving numerous services while
you are here. Monsieur Garcia arranged for them all. No man is to touch you
during any of these services. He left clear instructions on this.”

I
glanced at the massage therapist as my eyes flitted around the reception area.
Michael’s tastes ran on the expensive side. I was certain we were standing in a
five star hotel and a very exclusive spa. I looked at Rafael. “I’m sure they’re
all professionals here.”

A
stubborn look settled over his face. “Regardless, Monsieur Garcia is the only
man who is allowed to touch you.”

I
looked pointedly at Rafael’s hand. He was still gripping my shoulders. He
jerked his hands away, as if scalded. I didn’t say another word as I followed
the woman back to my room.

My
entire body was massaged, scrubbed, and waxed. The staff offered me sparkling
water and a variety of cheeses and grapes before painting my nails. I received
a rather lengthy facial. Then they whisked me off to a private courtyard for a
glass of white wine and a decadent three course meal. The first course included
field greens, endives, pears, pecans, and dandelion leaves, which were drizzled
with a honey vinaigrette dressing. The main course included a hickory smoked
salmon nestled in a bed of wild rice. They served a small fruit tart and coffee
for dessert.

As
soon as I finished dinner, they led me to an all white salon where they washed,
trimmed, and styled my hair. By the time they were finished applying my makeup,
I didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me in the mirror. My soft messy
waves and casual makeup had been replaced by a long, straight sheet of glossy
blond hair and makeup that was elegant and refined. My skin literally glowed.

“
Mon
Dieu
,” Rafael gasped when they finally led me back to the lobby.

I
winced as his cell phone hit the floor. He quickly scrambled to pick it up. I
stood there awkwardly until he rose from his chair.

Rafael
continued gaping at me as he paid the receptionist. She handed him a large bag
of makeup and skin care products, which he handed to me. As he helped me into
the car, he whispered, “If only Monsieur Garcia could see you now.”

*
* * * * *

I
tried to recreate the look the next morning. The task required considerable
effort, but with the bag of supplies they’d sent home with me, I was able to
accomplish nearly the same result. I hadn’t decided whether to keep all the
changes. I was rather fond of my messy waves, but I did want Michael to see the
new look, especially given Rafael’s response.

I
ate breakfast before joining Theron in the garden terrace. Rafael didn’t say a
word as he followed me down the hall. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept. If
he had, he certainly hadn’t slept very well. I wondered whether he had stayed
up all night, guarding the room as Michael had promised he would. I felt like
an idiot for being so insecure and making such a selfish request.

I
practiced speaking French while I helped Theron prune the flowers. I washed my
hands and settled back inside the bedroom to read my Kindle a few hours later. The
Kindle proved to be a lost cause. Michael was supposed to arrive soon. I was
both anxious and terrified to see him. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the
fact that I had fallen in love with him. I was seriously questioning whether I
should tell him and more than a little worried he would follow through on his plan
to consummate our relationship.

Rafael
knocked on the door. “Madame Stone?”

“Oui?”
I
responded, glancing up at the door.

He
leaned against the frame of the door and silently studied me.

I
shook my head when I realized I had instinctively responded in French. “Yes, Rafael,
please come in.”

He
took one step inside the door. “Monsieur Garcia’s flight has been delayed. He suggested
I take you out for coffee. There’s a nice café on the Avenue des Champs-Élysées
that is within walking distance from here if you would like to go.”

I
set my Kindle on the table. “That sounds wonderful,” I responded. I was certain
the fresh air and coffee would help soothe my nerves.  I smoothed my hands over
the wrinkles in my dress as I rose from the chair. I had chosen a soft,
feminine dress to wear for Michael in dusty hues of green and pink.

Rafael
and I walked in silence, which was awkward to say the least. He kept stealing
sidelong glances at me, but he seemed reluctant to speak. I wondered if it had
something to do with his behavior at the spa. The tension eased from his face by
the time we reached the café. “Would you like to sit inside or out?” he asked.

The
café’s outdoor seating area was framed by an ornate metal fence with an opening
in the middle. Pink, lavender, and white flowers were scattered in decorative
flower boxes that hung over the fence. The area inside the fence was peppered
with small metal tables. Each table held only two chairs. The sun was shining
and the temperature was pleasant, so it was an easy decision. “Let’s sit
outside,” I replied with a smile.

Rafael
chose a table in the far corner, away from the other patrons. He pulled a chair
out for me just as the waiter caught sight of us.

The
waiter approached as Rafael took his seat. He bowed slightly as he greeted us. “
Bonjour,
Madame, Monsieur.
”

“
Bonjour,
”
Rafael and I responded simultaneously. We exchanged amused glances.

The
waiter handed us both menus, poured our water, and walked away. He returned the
second we set our menus on the table. “
Êtes-vous prêt à commander
?
”

“
Oui
.” I responded. The waiter looked at me expectantly, so
I continued. “
Je voudrais
une
tasse de café.
”

Rafael raised an eyebrow at me. He looked mildly impressed, like
he hadn’t expected me to know enough French to order my own cup of coffee.

I smiled. I was used to Michael ordering for me. Still, coffee
ranks pretty high on my list of priorities, so that was one of the first
phrases I learned. Michael had helped me perfect it, so I was certain I had
spoken it flawlessly.

Rafael ordered a long list of things in French.

The waiter didn’t write a single thing down. He smiled, bowed
politely, and walked away. He returned a few minutes later with two small cups
of coffee, creamer, sugar, a large bottle of sparkling water, and a basket full
of croissants and other assorted pastries.

“
Merci
,” Rafael murmured before the waiter walked away.

Our eyes met. “Thank you,” I commented softly.

“For what?” Rafael asked. He looked surprised by the show of
gratitude.

“For this.” I waved at the table. “For bringing me here.” I held
the cup of coffee up to my nose and inhaled deeply. The aroma was divine. I
took a sip. My eyes fell closed when the rich, earthy concoction slid over my
tongue. The taste that lingered hinted at chocolate. I had to bite my lip to
prevent an audible moan. It was hands down the best cup of coffee I’d ever tasted.

When I opened my eyes again, Rafael was grinning at me. “So you
really like coffee, huh?”

I smiled. “Not like. Love.” I took another sip and envisioned at
least four other cups lined up in front of me. I was certain it would total no
more than a grande from Starbucks. I still couldn’t get with the French and
their very small cups.

Rafael laughed loudly. “I like you.”

I glanced up in surprise. “Good to know, especially considering
your job. How did you manage to get roped into babysitting me, anyway?”

He shrugged. “I am the only person Monsieur Garcia trusted to
protect you.” He reached for a croissant.

“Why?” I persisted. I took another sip of coffee and eyed the
croissants.

Rafael studied me, as if weighing his response. “In case you
haven’t noticed, my brother is deeply in love with you.”

I choked on my coffee. “Michael is your brother?”

Rafael was grinning again. He seemed pleased to have dropped that
little bombshell on me. “Yes, my older brother.”

I couldn’t wipe the stunned look from my face. “Then why in the
world do you refer to him as Monsieur Garcia? Aren’t you two on a first name
basis?”

Rafael shook his head. “Not when I’m working. You know how he is.
We have to maintain a certain degree of separation.”

I rolled my eyes. “Michael and his degrees of separation.” I drained
my coffee cup before reaching for one of the chocolate filled croissants. I
tore off a piece and popped it in my mouth. “Since we’re on this topic, I’m
going to confess I really hate it when you refer to me as ‘Madame Stone.’ It
makes me feel a hundred years old. Can’t you just address me as Kristine?”

Rafael shook his head. “Michael would lose his mind if I addressed
you by your first name.”

I had figured as much. I frowned into my empty cup. “What was your
job before I came along?”

“I worked in security,” he responded vaguely. He waved the waiter
back over and ordered two more cups of coffee.

I watched the waiter walk away. I lowered my voice to a whisper when
our eyes met again. “Does it concern you… the threat posed by the people your
brother works for?”

His eyes clouded briefly. “Michael could be targeted simply
because he has money. His business associates pose no greater threat than the
common thief. You shouldn’t let them concern you. Like Michael, I am very good
at what I do. I assure you, you are very well protected.”

The waiter returned with two cups of coffee and two egg, ham, and
cheese sandwiches.
“
Bon
appétit,
” he encouraged jovially before sauntering
off to another table.

I stared at the sandwiches. I couldn’t figure out why the egg was
sitting on top of the sandwich when the ham and cheese were tucked inside.

“
Croque Madame
,” Rafael said, nodding toward the sandwich.

The
Croque Madame
didn’t look like the type of sandwich you
could eat with your hands. I glanced at Rafael, silently questioningly whether
I should use a fork.

He laughed. “I’ll admit, it’s not your typical sandwich.” He reached
for his fork.

I followed his lead and took a tentative bite. The sandwich tasted
far better than it looked. I took a few more bites. Then I reached for my
coffee and waited for Rafael’s eyes to meet mine. “I want to thank you for everything
you’ve done to keep me safe, especially since Michael has been gone.” I paused
as I reflected on Justin’s abduction and the abuse I suffered at the hands of my
ex-husband. I spoke quietly as I continued. “My life has been threatened countless
times over the past ten years. I haven’t really felt safe since I was a child.
It’s nice to know there’s someone looking out for me.”

A confusing array of emotions flitted across his face. Sympathy,
anger, and something else I couldn’t identify. “It is truly my pleasure,” he responded
softly.

We sat at the café for hours. I was surprised by how much I
enjoyed Rafael’s company. He was so reserved when Michael was around. As far as
storytellers go, he gave Michael a run for his money. He spun fantastic stories
about Michael as a child. Stories I tucked away so I could tease Michael later.
He also confessed that while Michael had done quite well at boarding school, he
had managed to get himself kicked out for beating up other kids. He had to
finish out high school in Portugal. When he saw the look on my face, Rafael
quickly explained that he only beat up kids who were bullying other children. I
found it fascinating, given his current line of work.

We chatted amicably all the way back to the house. I spent the
rest of the afternoon in the bedroom, where I resumed my internal debate. I was
still questioning whether I should reveal my feelings for Michael.

The cook delivered a tray for dinner, but I ignored it.
Michael’s
absence was gnawing at me. I had grown accustomed to his constant affections,
and our separation had left me feeling needy, which was incredibly unnerving.
I wondered if he had missed me as much as I had missed him.
I wondered where he went, what he’d done, why he didn’t take me, and whether
he’d seen another woman. I could hardly blame him given how long I’d been dodging
his affections. My heart clenched at the thought of losing him to someone else.

I
was standing on the balcony in our bedroom with my arms wrapped tightly around
me. The front of my body was bathed in soft sunlight. I was watching the sun slink
behind the back garden. Michael had only been gone for two days, and I was at a
complete loss about what to do with myself. I gazed out over the impeccably manicured
gardens, my eyes settling on the two lovers carved in stone.
What would
Michael do when he discovered how I felt? How much longer could I resist him,
knowing what I now knew? Should I resist him? Did I even want to?