Page 129 of Prelude To You

What he forgot to mention to Kayla was that one of the pastries’ vanilla cream filling was quite edible. And that I used it to slather Roman’s glorious erection before slowly licking off every drop as he watched.

“Maybe you should send her to Europe and Asia for quality control,” Kayla said with a tone that suggested both sincerity and jest. Whichever way Roman preferred to take it.

For the longest second it seemed Roman considered doing exactly that. Then he shook his head, discarding the possibility. “If only. But no, things are too complicated as it is.”

“You like her, don’t you?” Kayla asked carefully, as if treading on eggshells.

The question hovered precariously in the air. I was frozen for a few bewildered heartbeats and felt myself leaning forward so as not to miss Roman’s answer. He was pacing in front of the window, restless, looking as on edge as I’d ever seen a man look, his fingers clenching into fists. But his silence strangled my expectation of some declaration of love.

Kayla knew not to push. “Is there anything else before I go?” she asked.

“Yes, is there any new development?” Roman’s attempt to sound casual came out strained. He looked at the phone, like her answer might bring him some peace of mind.

Apparently Kayla knew exactly what he was talking about. “No change; she still hasn’t accepted the offer at Le Petit Chateau”

“Thank you, Kayla.”

“Andy will take over now,” Kayla said. “Good luck with the board meeting. Speak to you tonight.”

My mind jammed, my thoughts heaped into puzzling tangles. What did Roman have to do with Le Petit Chateau? Was all that his doing?

None of this sounded like a man who didn’t care, even if only a tiny bit. Or maybe he felt guilty. And what was his connection to the Belmont Hotel? I reminded myself that none of that mattered if he found me in this house. My anxiety escalatedas the seconds ticked by. This was a clusterfuck of mammoth proportions.

Roman went back to standing at the table, reading about contract law. Light poured in from the skylight, showering his tall frame. As the adrenaline started to wane, I found myself entranced once again.

He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, but that could be for any number of reasons and I couldn’t presume it had anything to do with me. I also hated myself for caring about his lack of sleep. Why was it so easy to forget he’d caused me more agony than anyone else?

Yet despite the sticky predicament in which I found myself, Roman’s presence was somehow reassuring. At least I knew where he was. He on the other hand would not be so charmed that I was here, meddling in his business instead of minding my own.

Tension had me tied up in knots, like I’d beenen pointethe entire time. I quietly stretched my feet and legs, trying to loosen up my muscles, very aware of the lingering soreness between my thighs.

It was unimaginable that the man responsible for those delicious aches was now right here, at my place of work, literally under my nose. One short spiral staircase away.

A surge of emotion washed over me; the surprise of seeing him again, the fear of him finding me here, and that confusing phone call with Kayla. Having Jean-Rene fired and getting me rehired as pastry chef at Le Petit Chateau. He did all that for me. Yet here we were, all of it in shambles.

I stretched my right foot and curled my toes. There was the tiniest crack of bone. And in the silence, it reverberated off the walls like a gunshot. I froze.

Roman stopped reading.

He fucking heard that.

The longest moment in the history of the world lounged silently in the air. I scurried behind a bookcase and watched him through the smallest slit between the books. He looked up at exactly the spot where I’d been standing a second ago, his expression one of someone who thought his mind was playing tricks on him.

“Hello?” he asked, not expecting an answer. A little smile played across his lips. And for one moment it looked like he knew it was insane to consider another presence in the room. He went back to reading his books.

I’d barely taken a breath of relief when he looked up again, jaw clenched with certainty. Making the disastrous decision to investigate. He strode toward the spiral staircase.

My breath caught in the back of my throat, and I stopped breathing altogether. Exactly ten seconds from now this man would discover me here. And it would all be over. And there would be no one to stop them from switching off Henry’s machines.

As Roman reached the bottom of the staircase, the oak doors opened and Nelson entered with a tray. And if I wasn’t mistaken, there were two of my madeleines on the dessert plate, beside the cup of coffee.

Roman spun in his step. “Nelson!”

“Morning, sir. I thought you should have some of these lovely pastries with your coffee before the board meeting.”

Roman strode back to the oak table, where Nelson was already pouring cream into the coffee. “Thank you,” Roman said. He sank into a chair, abandoning his ghost chase. I sighed with relief. Although my heart was still throbbing in my throat. There was no way to be sure whether that was because I’d anticipated Roman being close to me, or out of sheer panic. At a good guess, it was probably equal measures of both.

Nelson stood back and regarded Roman. “Also, Byron is here. I don’t know if you have time to see him.”

---