The Risqué Contracts Series (5 page)

“As I said, there is no need. Madeleine is
with
me. Do we understand each other?” Unless it was confidential business information, telling Julie anything was like sending a companywide text. By morning, everyone who hadn’t figured it out would know Madeleine was mine. I was confident she wouldn’t be happy about it, but that was too damn bad. This was the next best thing to having my ring on her finger.

“Yes, sir.” Julie’s voice carried an undertone of bitterness that grated on my nerves. It was time to start thinking about replacing her. However, all my focus was on Madeleine at the moment, and I was done with this conversation.

“Get it done,” I barked before hanging up.

“Caleb? What’s going on?” The sound of Madeleine’s husky voice drew my attention and I turned to see her standing at the bedroom door. She was wearing my shirt from earlier, looking sleepy and adorably mussed. Instantly hard, I tossed my phone on the couch before striding over to her and gathering her into my arms.

“Nothing, baby. Just work shit,” I said, softly placing my lips on the top of her head. She leaned back, eying me speculatively, but I distracted her with a consuming kiss. My cock was wide awake, so I hauled her back to bed to tire him out again.

The next time I was dragged from sleep, it was due to a blaring alarm. Madeleine stirred and reached out to slam her hand down on the clock beside the bed, shutting off the jarring noise. Reluctant to release her, I followed the movement of her body and saw it was seven thirty. I groaned and pulled her back in tight as I rolled onto my back.

Her body wiggled against me and my morning wood became a morning baseball bat. I cracked open one eye when I felt her trying to extricate herself from my arms. Yawning, I attempted to shift her body on top of mine. “You keep squirming like that, Madeleine, and you’ll find yourself fucked so hard, you’ll be walking funny for the rest of the day.”

“We need to get up,” she insisted, pinching the underside of my arm. I yelped, giving her the opportunity to slip out of bed. Before she could get her feet on the floor, I hooked an arm around her waist and had her flat on her back with my body covering hers in seconds.

“We don’t have to be anywhere, Madeleine,” I mumbled, planting soft kisses down her neck to her tits, and taking one hard, pink nipple into my mouth.

“We have to get to work,” she gasped, and I let the nipple go with a pop.

“Baby, relax. We have the day off.”

She frowned. “You said it was an emergency.”

“It was. The client I needed to meet with got stuck while traveling,” I lied, focusing back on the sweet taste of her skin, “and he won’t be able to get here until tomorrow.”

“But, don’t—” I growled and sealed my mouth firmly over hers, swallowing her protests and avoiding any further questions.

After thoroughly ravaging her mouth, I lifted my head, smiling at the glow of her flushed skin and the dazed look in her beautiful green eyes.

“We don’t have to work, but I do have plans for the day.” I grinned. With a quick kiss on the tip of her nose, I jumped off the bed and dragged her up with me. “Come shower with me.” I tossed her over my shoulder and slapped her bare ass when she wouldn’t stop trying to get down.

After a scorching hot, and very satisfying, shower, we dressed and left the hotel. I had a day laid out that was sure to wow her and I couldn’t wait to see her reactions.

When we stepped into the hall, I realized I’d forgotten my wallet. Madeleine waited while I ran into the bedroom. I grabbed my keys and wallet from a side table, stopping short when I spied a pack of condoms in the slightly open drawer. Glancing around, I made sure I was alone before taking them, and then dug out the few I kept in my suitcase.

The sight of the little foil packets reminded me she hadn’t brought up our lack of protection. I didn’t know whether she hadn’t noticed, which put a cocky smile on my face, or she wasn’t worried because she believed her birth control was still effective. I disposed of the offending contraceptives in the suite’s kitchen before heading out the door. Housekeeping would empty the trash while we were gone.

We left the hotel and I led her to a small, out-of-the-way café I had discovered on one of my numerous trips here. Watching Madeleine enjoy French pastries and coffee was one of the most erotic experiences of my life. I was sorely tempted to take her back to our room and spend the day fucking her until there was no way my seed hadn’t taken root inside her.

But as tempting as the idea was, I’d been looking forward to our day together, so I gritted my teeth while watching those blissful smiles and listening to her little mewls of pleasure. I was jealous of her fucking breakfast. When she was finally finished, I blew out a relieved breath. Any longer and I’d have dragged her to the ground so those looks and moans were the result of my cock buried in her pussy.

I shook my head a little to clear it. I needed to get a fucking grip and rein in my thoughts.

From the investigative work I’d had done and her comments over the last month, I learned many things about my girl. She’d always wanted to come to Paris—it was a literary lover’s dream—but she’d never admit to the hopeless romantic hiding beneath the calm and collected business woman.

The first place I took her was
Shakespeare & Company
, one of the most famous bookstores in the world. Her face lit up and excitement thrummed through her as she wandered through the shelves. Eventually, I dragged her away and we made stops at the homes of several authors I’d heard her speak of or seen her read—Victor Hugo’s home, now museum, Ernest Hemmingway’s apartment, and Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas' home.

With every new place we visited, she beamed and glowed with excitement, talking non-stop. It was charming. As much of a turn on as it was to see her like this, a stronger set of emotions burned in my chest. I’d fallen for Madeleine the moment I’d first laid eyes on her, but I fell deeper and harder than I had expected. I vowed to fill her life with the things that put such expressions of joy on her face.

As the day turned to evening, I took her to a small, simple Italian café, La Campanina. The restaurant faced broad steps leading up to the majestic, Saint-Étienne-du-Mont. By the time we were finished eating, the sun had completely set and the moon reflected off the round cobblestones of the street. I stopped her in front of the building and waited, watching as she contemplated the view.

When recognition settled over her features, her hands flew to her mouth and she began to bounce on her toes. She looked up at me, her eyes bright with excitement, and I couldn’t help but grin at her in response.

“That’s—that’s the steps!”

I nodded and laughed when she bounded toward them. The large, stone stairs were the shooting location of her favorite movie,
Midnight in Paris
. Owen Wilson sat on these steps each night, waiting for the vintage Peugeot to whisk him back to the lost generation of writers' era.

Joining her, she almost knocked me down when she threw herself into my arms and locked our lips together. I was holding on by a thread and my mind started cataloging a list of places where I could discreetly fuck her on the way to our last stop; I wasn’t sure I’d be able to wait until we reached the hotel.

Madeleine was the first to pull back and end the kiss. She touched her fingers to her swollen lips and studied me, confusion clouding her eyes. “I don’t know why I did that. Sorry.” Her apology pissed me off.

I grasped her arms and slammed her body up against mine. “Because you’re mine, Madeleine. And even though you’re fighting it as hard as you can, we both know it’s true.” I dropped my hands quickly and stepped back, knowing I was right on the edge. If I kept touching her, I’d drag her to the nearest dark corner and prove it. She shook her head a little and stepped back further, her walls slowly building up again.

I decided to let it go for the moment, but I’d be saying and doing a lot about the subject when we returned to our hotel. We still had one more stop to make, so I silently held my hand out. She looked between my outstretched hand and my face a few times, searching for who the fuck knows what. Eventually, she placed her palm atop mine and I laced our fingers together.

I hailed a cab and gave him our destination in flawless French, wanting to surprise her. He drove us up to the riverfront and dropped us at the mouth of a bridge crossing over the Seine. Guiding her to the center of the structure, we stopped to take in our surroundings.

It was then Madeleine noticed the lattice, wrought iron railings. They were covered by thin sheets of transparent plexiglass, but still recognizable.

“This is in the movie, too,” she whispered with awe. “It’s a ‘lovelock’ bridge. They used to be covered in a multicolored sea of padlocks.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “The locks were placed by sweethearts, the keys thrown away to symbolize an unbreakable bond.”

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the Cartier box I’d held onto all evening. I flicked open the lid so Madeleine could see the white gold and diamond bracelet inside. Nestled in the box next to it was a white gold screwdriver, which would let me lock the bracelet in place on her wrist. It wasn’t the most expensive piece of jewelry I planned to buy her, but I couldn’t resist the idea of a piece that was under my control.

She reared back suddenly and dropped my hand, her gaze darting around wildly, as though looking for an escape.

“Madeleine, come here,” I demanded. She shook her head again, backing up a few more steps.

“An unbreakable
love
, Caleb. Those locks represented an unbreakable love.”

C
aleb took one step toward me and I held my hands up to ward him off. I shook my head as I tried to understand what he could possibly have been thinking to bring me here, of all places. There was no way a playboy like him could understand the depth of meaning behind those locks—the level of commitment they represented to the couples who had placed them on the bridge for years. So many couples, the city had to finally remove the locks and cover the wrought iron crisscrossing the bridge because it couldn’t handle the weight of them all.

This wasn’t some mere imaginary place from the movies I loved to watch. It was real. As true as the emotions the men and women who’d stood here before us had felt for each other. As pure as the love my parents still felt for each other. The same connection they’d felt when they visited Paris and placed a lock of their own onto this very same bridge years ago. The same love I saw every day between the two of them and wanted for myself. The reason I was fighting so hard to save the business my father had almost killed himself to keep afloat.

Unlike the day I’d spent with Caleb, wearing rose-colored glasses as he showed me the most romantic spots in the city I’d dreamed of visiting. Today wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Not when it was the stuff of my fantasies. I’d spent it doing all the things I’d imagined and it had been better than I’d expected because I’d been with Caleb—with the man who held the fate of my father’s business in his hands. He wasn’t just the man who’d fucked me senseless after sweeping me onto his plane. I needed to remember he was a ruthless businessman and notorious playboy. It was beyond belief to expect he would view our day together the same way I did. For all I knew, today’s trip was one he’d done many times before as he romanced whichever woman he found himself with while in Paris. A day that ended with a token of his appreciation like the gorgeous bracelet he was holding.

The thought of him spending days like this with his past lovers and doing so again with other women in the future almost brought me to my knees. My head swiveled and I caught sight of a cab at the end of the bridge, a couple exiting it hand in hand. I didn’t give myself time to reconsider as I turned on my heel and raced for the cab.

“Madeleine!” Caleb roared behind me.

I heard the sound of his footsteps getting closer as his longer stride began to eat up the distance between us. The woman who’d just left the cab turned at the sound of Caleb’s yell. Her eyes locked with mine before jerking to look over my shoulder. She muttered something to the man standing with her and he stepped to the side as she held the door open, her head dipped low as she spoke to the cab driver. When I dove into the back seat, the door slammed behind me and the cab raced off. Through the rear window, I saw the stranger holding Caleb back. Tears tracked down my cheeks as I watched until I could no longer see him in the distance.

I heard the cab driver’s voice and realized he was asking me a question. I’d never learned more than a few passing phrases in French and couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“Parlez-vous Anglais?”

“Yes, English,” he replied, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Where would you like to go?”

“The airport, please,” I whispered, and then dug into my purse to make sure Caleb had returned my passport. My fingers clenched around it when I found it. “How long will it take to get there?”

“If traffic is light, less than an hour.”

I pulled my cell phone from my purse, turning off the ringer as it started to chime. Caleb’s name flashed on the screen and a part of me was tempted to take the call and listen to whatever explanation he would give, but I ruthlessly reached for the colder side of my personality and jabbed the red button to decline the call. I needed time to think and I couldn’t do that anywhere near Caleb. Being around him made me lose my mind and act completely out of character. I couldn’t afford to do that right now. Not when my father’s company was on the line...and my heart. If I were one hundred percent honest with myself, I wasn’t sure which I was more scared of losing.

***

B
y the time I’d arrived at the airport, I was already booked on a flight. The power of technology, since I’d been able to book it on my phone during the drive. It was a good thing, too. It had been departing in a little more than an hour and I’d only managed to make the plane because I’d pled a family emergency. My lack of luggage and a short time in the country had supported my claim. One of the security guards had called for a cart to take me to the gate. French men were so gallant. If I’d been in the states, I would have never made the flight because nobody would have offered to help.