Page 12 of Provoke You

4

Take You to Paris

Matt

Mr. Benoit slammed the door on his way out. He was exactly what I’d pictured, pragmatic and unapologetic. He was the reason I’d put my name in the hat for the head of security job. This job would add zero drama to my life and give me an excuse to live in New Orleans, the place Mom always wanted to come back to. Of course, with a click of a pair of handcuffs, Ela had changed all that.

“You handled yourself well today, and your credentials are impressive.” Jennifer surveyed my face as if the solution to this fiasco were written on it. “Do you still want the head of security job?”

“I do.” I nodded, ignoring Ela’s piercing stare.

“Get Rosela out of New Orleans and keep her out for the next thirty days. Do this, and the job is yours. You have my word.”

Play babysitter to Mr. Benoit’s stepdaughter? I barely made it an hour this morning without dragging her back to bed. No way I would be able to keep my hands off her for a whole month. In Paris, no less.

A burst of energy sprung below my navel. What other choice did I have? I glanced at Ela and her pouty lips. She seemed so alone and defenseless. I couldn’t leave her. Plus, this job was step one on my road to recovery to leave the past behind and start over.

“Are you serious?” I asked Jennifer. “Sounds like this is an all-or-nothing kind of deal.”

She turned her gaze to me. “Dead serious. But more than that, Ela needs you.”

“No, I don’t.” Ela snapped out of her daze. “I just met him. I’m a grown woman. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“No, you need a bodyguard. I can see it in your eyes now. You’re already planning to skip Paris. Mr. Cole will make sure you’re safe.” Jennifer appeared older than she had when we walked in half an hour ago.

That stern look on Ela’s face meant all kinds of trouble. She wasn’t going to let this one go. Jennifer’s tone gave me the impression she wasn’t worried about another Ela scandal. Something else was at play here. Why did she want Ela to leave New Orleans?

“I better go pack now.” Ela walked around the mahogany bar, puffy-eyed and still looking hot as all sin in that short skirt.

If I had to be honest, the cold that gripped my chest when the handcuffs came off let up after Jennifer asked me to take Ela to Paris. Staying in control around Ela would be hell, but at least, we’d get a few more days together.

After that, she could go back to her old life and I could start my new job. But first, I had to get her to agree to come with me. From what I read in her security file, Ela wasn’t someone who could be bullied into doing something she didn’t want to do.

When Ela left, Jennifer turned her attention to me. “It’s last notice, but I was able to get us permission to fly the company jet tomorrow. Our pilot will meet you at the hangar. Will you be there to escort her to Paris? I have to stay and see to some last-minute details regarding the deal.”

“I do this, and the job is mine?”

She nodded. “I can get it to you in writing, if it helps.”

“No need. I’ll be there.” I shook her hand. “What room is she in?”

“She’s in the carriage house, at the far end of the courtyard. Good luck.” She let out a sigh of relief. Would she have gone to the next guy on the list if I had said no? That shouldn’t bother me, but I was glad I was the one she’d asked.

“Thanks.” I headed for the door, knowing I didn’t need luck. I needed an airtight plan, loads of patience, and whatever else to help me stay on task and forget how much Ela affected me.

As I strolled the length of the pool, surrounded by cobblestones, indoor plants, and scattered bistro tables, it was easy to see why Ela called the Baroness home.

When I came up to her room, the door stood wide open. The damn butterflies in my stomach perked up again the second I spotted her by the poster bed. The suite had all the amenities, basically a small house decorated in fancy furnishings in greens and creams. Piles of her clothes already cluttered the king-size mattress and the sofa in the living area. A tank top flew across the room and landed somewhere between the bed and coffee table.

When she saw me leaning on the threshold, she did a double take and swallowed. Good. I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stop thinking about what we could be doing right now. Luckily for me, she’d already changed into a pair of yoga pants and a top with no buttons to rip off.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re no longer tethered to me.” She turned her attention to the mountain of clothes in front of her and sent a skirt flying to the other side of the room.

“I noticed.” I stepped toward her. “I’ve been given a job. I intend to complete the task.”

“Don’t get all marine on me. I can get myself to Paris just fine.”

Rubbing my inside wrist, I came up to her. In the ten hours we’d spent chained together, I got used to her body constantly brushing or pressing against me. I fished the handcuffs from the back pocket of my jeans and threw them on the bed for effect.

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