Beautifully Broken (The Broken Series Book 2) (24 page)

Michael
handed the waiter his credit card. He watched the waiter walk away, then reached
for my hand. “
Mon coeur
, each day with you is a gift. You don’t need to
buy me anything, although I am certain I would enjoy anything you picked out
for me. I do think you raise a good point, and I would like to open an account
for you, so you can go shopping and purchase what you’d like.”

I
opened my mouth to object. When Michael gave me a disapproving look, I quickly
slammed it shut.

He
kissed my hand. “Please,
mon amour.
I don’t want you to think of it as my
money. I am happy to share it with you, and it is the least I can do since I
have robbed you of your own career.”

Michael
pulled me to my feet. He kissed me on the forehead as he wrapped the pashmina
around my shoulders. “Come. I want to show you the main opera house before the
ballet begins.”

As
Michael steered me out of the restaurant, my mind gnawed on the fact that I no
longer had a career. I knew I wouldn’t be happy without one, not for very long anyway.
I wondered what kind of career, if any, I could pursue in Paris. I stopped dead
in my tracks.
Why would I pursue a career in Paris? Had I decided to stay?

Michael
stood in front of me with a concerned look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

I
licked my lips nervously. “Nothing.” Nothing I was ready to discuss anyway.
“I’m just overthinking things. Let’s go see the grand staircase.”

Michael
looked hesitant to proceed, but he allowed my evasiveness to slide as he led me
into the foyer of the main opera house. My eyes widened at the opulent decor. I
would have been content to sit on the grand staircase so I could admire the
candelabras, scantily dressed sculptures, and frescos for the rest of the
evening, but Michael insisted we take our seats in the balcony.

I
leaned against the ornately carved balcony as I admired the main auditorium. The
walls, the massive curtain across the stage, and our seats were lined in a deep
burgundy fabric that felt like crushed velvet. I couldn’t pull my eyes from the
long columns, balconies, busts, and sculptures that appeared to be carved in
gold. The historic chandelier and the softly painted fresco in the ceiling competed
mightily against the ballet. Michael didn’t see much of the ballet either. He was
too busy watching me. I had a sneaking suspicion that he was simply biding time
until he could get me back home in bed.

He
was.

*
* * * * *

Michael
was still sleeping when I woke the next morning. We had been up past three a.m.
fulfilling all those wicked promises of his. I propped myself up on my elbow as
I watched him sleep. His dark wavy hair was all disheveled. It was nearly long
enough to pull back into a pony tail now. His golden skin had turned a deep tan
from our time in Saint-Tropez. His five o’clock shadow was about twelve hours
overdue, which made me long to bite his jaw.

A
half-smile tugged at his delectable lips. He raised one eyebrow as he peeked at
me from under his lids. “
Bonjour, mon coeur.
Can I help you with
something?”

I
couldn’t help but giggle. “I was just admiring the view.”

“Hmmm.
Then you won’t mind if I do the same?” Michael propped himself on one elbow as
he pushed me off mine. “You know what I love about you,
ma chérie?”

I
shook my head. “No. Actually, I’m at a complete loss about that.”

“Oh,
really? Then allow me to enlighten you. Well, there’s this…” Michael kissed my
nose, “and this…” he kissed my forehead, “and this…” he kissed behind my ear,
“and this…” Suddenly, he ducked under the sheets. He trailed kisses all down my
body, “and this… and this… and this…”

“Oh
my God, Michael! You are insatiable.” I tried to crawl out of bed, but he
hauled me back by my ankle. He flipped me over so I was lying on my stomach.

“
Le
mienne
,” he growled as he peppered kisses up my legs and back. He took his
time kissing my neck. He pinned my arms on the pillow with his, then drove deep
inside of me. I gasped as he held me there on the edge of pain. He sucked on
the sensitive skin behind my ear. Slowly, he began moving inside of me. His
voice was seductive and low. “Tell me you don’t want this,
mon amour
.
Tell me you don’t need me as much as I need you. Say the word, and I will let
you go.”

I
moaned as my body wound tighter and tighter. I wanted to surrender to him, to
give up every last bit of control. I knew then. As twisted and messed up as it
was, I wanted Michael to own me… and I didn’t want him to let me go. I relaxed
beneath his primal hold. I gasped when he pulled out and thrust forcefully back
inside. Stars pricked at the back of my eyes. I yearned for so much more. “Please,
Michael, don’t ever let me go.”

Michael
released my arms. He reached for my breasts as he drove inside of me, each
thrust deeper and more punishing than the last.

My
hands raked over the pillow. “Yes,” I rasped.

A
searing heat filled me as he buried himself as deep as he could go. My body
pulsed in time with his, then shattered forcefully. We both lie panting and
speechless until we fell back asleep, an inextricable tangle of arms and legs.

It
was noon by the time either of us stirred again. The second I woke I knew
something had shifted between us, but I couldn’t quite comprehend what it was. Michael’s
words… and mine… were still echoing through my mind. Had we been talking about
sex or something more? A wave of nausea hit me as I tried to make sense of it
all.

Michael
shot me a concerned look as I fell back against the pillows and moaned. He
eased out of bed, then brought me a croissant and some ice water from the breakfast
tray. I hadn’t even heard the cook slip in. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

My
stomach roiled. “No. This is good.”

Michael
raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Feeling nauseous again?”

I
nodded as I scooted up into the pillows. “I guess I’m not quite over that
stomach flu I was fighting off yesterday. I was probably pushing it by going
out to dinner last night. Do you feel okay? God, I hope I haven’t made you sick.”

Michael
tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear before kissing my forehead. “I’m
fine. Will you be okay while I take a shower?”

I
offered him a reassuring smile. “Of course,
mon chérie,
I’ll be fine.”

My
stomach recovered a few hours after eating the croissant. I lounged in the
shower for a while. Then Michael and I shared a light lunch in the garden
terrace.

Michael
reached for my hand as I polished off the last of my turkey sandwich. “Will you
join me for the evening mass at Notre Dame?”

My
eyes widened in shock. My ex-husband had refused to go to church with me, so I
was a bit surprised by Michael’s request. “You want to take me to church?”

Michael’s
smile widened. “
Oui.
I think it will do us both good.”

I
couldn’t help but notice the hope in his eyes as I considered his request. I was
raised Lutheran, but I had attended a number of Catholic services with friends.
The services really weren’t all that different. I reflected on all that Michael
and I had done over the past few weeks, then gently squeezed his hand. “Yes,
Michael. I’d like that.”

We
were seated in the cathedral among hundreds of other people just a few hours
later. While it felt good to be back in church, the sermon was lost on me. The
entire service was spoken in French. I followed along as best I could, but my
mind kept wandering toward the architecture and the extravagant decor.

Large
marble columns supported countless arches that ran close to four stories high.
Light streamed in blue, green, purple, and gold through stained glass windows
that depicted scenes from the bible. Chandeliers glowed softly all along the center
aisle, and an insane amount of candles were stacked in front of the altar. When
my eyes found the crucifix, I remembered the reason I had come.

I
kneeled as I began praying for my family and friends. I prayed for Michael. Then
I prayed for myself, asking for both guidance and forgiveness. I was thoroughly
confused about the direction I wanted my life to take, so I simply prayed that God
lead me where He wanted me to go.

Michael
joined me as I prayed. Warmth flooded me. I had never had a man pray by my side
before. That single act solidified my feelings toward him like nothing else
could.

Michael
took me to a small café in the Latin Quarter after the service. My stomach was
feeling better, so I was holding out hope that I could finally enjoy a cup of
coffee. We had to leave the café before we were even seated. I was still
reeling from the experience when we got home.

Michael
removed my heels and peeled my silk stockings off while I sat dazedly on the
edge of the bed. “You don’t understand, Michael. I don’t just love coffee, I
live for the stuff. I’m quite certain I was born drinking it. So why can’t I stomach
it now?”

Michael
listened to me whine about my obvious addiction. Then he grinned. “Because,
mon
coeur
, I do believe you have made me the happiest man alive.”

I
shot him a disgruntled look. It wasn’t like coffee was the bane of his
existence. He drank the stuff too. My eyes suddenly widened with shock. “Oh,” I
gasped softly.

Michael
beamed as he kneeled at my feet. He rested his arms and chin on my lap and
gazed up at me through adoring eyes. “
Oui,
ma chérie.
I think we’re
having a
bébé
.
”

Kadyn
was exhausted by the time he returned home. Between the five hour drive back to
Germany, the military hop to BWI, the time change, and the hour long drive back
to Alexandria, he could barely stand. He unlocked the door to Kri’s apartment. There
was one phone call he was determined to make before he collapsed on the bed.

Kadyn
sighed heavily as he dialed Kri’s mom. “Mrs. Stone? It’s Kadyn. I promised I’d
call when we got back from Paris.”

“Hi
Kadyn. I’m glad you made it home safe,” she responded softly.

“I’m
sorry, Mrs. Stone, but we didn’t find her. We found two people, a waiter and a
barista, who claimed they saw her, but that was it. We aren’t giving up,
though. I promise I’ll keep looking.” Kadyn closed his eyes as Kri’s mom began to
cry. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I promise I won’t stop until I find her.”

Eventually,
Kri’s mom had to turn the phone over to her father. His gruff voice had Kadyn
pulling the phone away from his ear. “Kadyn?”

Kadyn
raked his hand over his face. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. We didn’t find her in
Paris.”

“Thank
you for trying, Kadyn. What’s the next step? What about a press release? Do you
think it’s time to get the media involved?”

Kadyn
sighed. “I’ll talk with the federal investigators tomorrow to see what they
think. I’m going to ask them to get the American Embassy in Paris involved,
since she was spotted in a restaurant there.”

“Wait.
She was spotted in a restaurant? That’s good news, right? It means she is still
alive, and she’s not hurt. How long ago was this?” Kri’s dad asked excitedly.

Kadyn
wished he could be as optimistic as Kri’s father. “About a month ago. Yes, sir.
I think it is good news she’s been seen. At least we have some idea where he
took her, although we don’t know if he still has her in France.”

“Do
you think it would help if Kri’s mother and I went to the embassy in France?”

“No,
sir. I think you should stay put for now. If Kri gets away, she may come there
instead of here. I don’t know if she’ll feel safe coming back to this
apartment.”

“Do
you want us to come to Virginia to pack Kri’s things? Maybe I can help put a
fire under the federal investigators. It doesn’t seem like they’re making Kri’s
case a very big priority.”

“No,
sir. I really think you should stay put for now. I promise I’ll stay on top of
the investigators, and I’d like to hold onto Kri’s apartment. I’ll take care of
her things for as long as it takes to find her.”

“Thank
you, Kadyn… for everything. I don’t know what we’d do… I… I’m so happy Kri met
you. Thank you for being there for her and for all you’re doing to help find
her.”

Silent
tears streaked Kadyn’s cheeks as he sat and listened to Kri’s father break down
and cry. Eventually, the two men disconnected the call, no longer able to
speak.

*
* * * * *

The
FBI took the lead on Kri’s case when Mickey offered evidence that Kri was taken
out of the country. Special Agent Vargas was the investigator assigned to the
case. When Kadyn met with Agent Vargas the next morning, he was disappointed
and more than a little frustrated that they hadn’t uncovered anything new. He
seemed optimistic when Kadyn advised him that Kri had been spotted in Paris,
and he agreed the best course of action was to get the American Embassy in
Paris involved. They decided to hold off on a press release in order to give
the embassy some lead time to investigate the Garcia residence and Kri’s
presence in Paris.