Page 71 of Julien (Confessions 2)

Where are you, mon cœur? he thought, as the elevator began to move, and then he closed his eyes, remembering the first time Julien had broken down in front of him, and only hoped that he or Robbie got to him before that happened.

IT WAS NEARING the end of a grueling workweek as Priest sat back in his chair and cracked his neck from side to side. He was in the middle of adding his final notes to the Miller case he’d finally wrapped up after months in court, when there was a knock on his office door.

“Come in,” he called out, and glanced up from his computer.

Helena, his PA, opened the door a crack and stuck her head inside. “I’m sorry to bother you. I know you’re getting ready to head out for the week.”

“That’s fine. Is there a problem?”

“Uh, well, there’s someone out here asking for you but…”

As her words trailed off, and she started to look uncomfortable, Priest sat back in his chair and said, “But what, Helena?”

She slipped inside the office, shut the door behind her, and said softly, “I think he’s drunk.”

“Drunk?” Priest got to his feet. “Who is it?”

“Umm, he said he was your friendly neighborhood car thief?”

That damn Frenchman. “Right,” Priest said, and walked around his desk. “You can send him in.”

Helena’s eyes widened slightly. “Are you sure? I can have security escort—”

“Helena?” Priest said.

“Yes?”

“You can send him in. I know him.”

“Oh. Okay,” she said, and turned to walk back to the door. When she got there and opened it, she stopped and looked back. “If I misspoke, I’m—”

“You didn’t. I wasn’t expecting him, but it seems he’s already had a rough day, so I best see what he needs. You can head on home, though.”

“Are…are you sure? I can wait for you,” she said, sounding less than convinced that leaving was a good idea.

“Yes. Go ahead. I’ll head out after I take care of this.”

“Very good. I’ll send him in.”

Priest gave her a clipped nod and watched her go, and as the door shut behind her, he buttoned his jacket and took a moment to wonder how Julien had found him, and why he was plastered by five on a Friday.

A knock came first, and when Priest raised his head and Julien stepped—or rather, stumbled—into the office, Priest drew up short. Julien looked terrible.

His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes were crumpled to shit as though he’d slept in them all week, and as Priest brought his eyes back to the glazed ones fastened on him, he said, “Hello.”

“Bonjour, Mr. Priest,” Julien said as he walked further inside the office, and Priest thought it telling that even shit-faced drunk, this man made his body react in ways he’d never experienced before.

It had been a couple of months since he’d last seen the gorgeous Mr. Thornton, but that by no means lessened his impact. Drunk or not, Julien was undeniably sexy and made Priest’s cock achingly aware it hadn’t seen any action in exactly…a couple of months.

“It’s Mr. Priest-ley. But I believe you already know that. Don’t you, Mr. Thornton?” Priest walked around his desk and took his seat, determined to keep something between him and the man now falling down into the chair opposite him.

“Oui, I do,” Julien said, and though he smiled at Priest, the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. Julien had been nothing but mouthy both of the times they’d previously met, but right now, he seemed…off.

“Are you okay, Mr. Thornton? You haven’t broken any more laws, have you?”

“Non. No laws, but…” As Julien trailed off and looked around his office, Priest leaned back in his chair and studied his profile. Julien had a perfect Roman nose, a classic, strong jaw line, and, Priest remembered from when he smiled, a dimple on his right cheek.

“I need your help, monsieur.”

Priest told himself to say no as he sat there staring across his desk at the man he hadn’t been able to get off his mind since they’d met. He couldn’t be someone’s knight in shining armor. The go-to whenever Julien broke a law. But instead of doing that, Priest heard himself say, “Why? What did you do?”

“Merde. Of course you assume it’s my fault,” Julien said, his tone relaying how impressed he was by that assumption. “Je suis vraiment trop con d’être venu ici.”

Christ. Whenever Julien spoke French—even to insult him—Priest wanted to grab him and kiss him until he groaned it against his lips, and that reaction bothered the hell out of him.

He didn’t know this guy. Other than his penchant for petty crimes. Yet, from the very first moment, Priest had wanted Julien with a single-minded hunger that had not only turned him celibate but also, apparently, insane.

He shut his eyes and reminded himself that getting involved with Julien would be a monumental mistake. Ethically, morally, and mentally, since Julien was clearly unstable. But then again, there was nothing all that balanced about Priest, either.

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