The Billionaire’s Desires Vol.12-13 (2 page)

“Tristan, have you heard from Violette?”

“Yes and no. She sent me a long email to explain everything, but since then she deactivated her email address and phone number.”

“What did she tell you in her email?” asks Marion, who doesn't seem to know any more than I do.

“Some personal stuff. But basically she said she was sorry, explaining that her sister suffered so much she felt she had to help her. Even at the risk of coming across as an...”

“Ignoble plague?” Marion interjects.

“Manipulative nutcase?” I add.

“Psychopath? Hypocrite? Sorceress?” Marion continues.

“That's enough, girls, I think you've got the rough idea!” Tristan grumbles, not entirely amused by our suggestions. “I've erased Violette out of my life, you should do the same.”

When my alarm clock, set to the France Info news station, starts to blare, I'm horrified to realise that it's Monday morning. I rush to grab my phone, hoping to find a sign from Gabriel telling me he's alive. But the touchscreen doesn't show any new messages.

Oh, this day is off to a great start.

I adapt the day's outfit to my mood: a short but strict black dress, a shrug and matching ballet pumps. I put on a little bit of makeup and leave my hair down.

Marcus is going to ask me if someone's died.

Ah, no! I forgot, he's on holiday.

Oh, this day is off to a REALLY great start.

As if my gloominess wasn't enough, I run into loads of problems on my way to the Prestige Modelling Agency on this grey September morning. It's pouring with rain, the subway – which is delayed several times – is jam-packed, and Starbucks is closed for renovations. It never ends! Sleep deprived and without any caffeine, I arrive at the seventh floor. The metal door opens and I'm already counting the minutes until I can be free again. Sitting down at my desk, I take one last look at my mobile and discover, surprised, two new unread messages from Gabriel that are over an hour old. How did I not hear them? My heart starts to race.

[Stay home tonight.]

[Answer me, Amande.]

You're dreaming, Diamonds.

Who does he think he is?

And what is he going to tell me now?

Part of me wants to yell out with joy and relief that he's back. The other part is divided between fear of losing him definitively and the desire to make him pay for his cruel absence. Deciding to ignore him, I bury my smartphone in a drawer so I won't see it.

Now it's my turn to play the Queen of Silence.

I go to the corner coffee station to drown my rage in three expressos but, lost in my thoughts, I almost collide with Mr Dandy-in-Chief. Ferdinand de Beauregard, wearing his newest Armani suit, stops me in my tracks and gauges me with his pensive eyes.

“You obviously love bumping into me!” he jokes.

“Sorry,” I say, mumbling. “Good morning, Ferdinand.”

“Good morning, Amandine. I'm happy you're back. Are you feeling better?”

A cold, Amandine. You called in sick because of a cold!

“Yes, I just had a bad cold, thanks.”

“Are you going to drink your daily gallon of coffee? I'll join you.”

By chance, there's no one around and no coworker surprises us for almost thirty minutes. We sit, facing one another around a table. De Beauregard is in a chatty mood and apparently, he's determined to make me talk.

“Tell me everything, Amandine. What's bothering you? As a good boss, I need to take care of my employees!” he adds, making me roll my eyes.

“What makes you say that something's... bothering me?”

“I'm starting to understand you pretty well. Soon you won't be able to hide any secrets from me, Amandine.”

“It's not very professional to confide in one's boss, is it?”

“That's for you to decide. Personally, I don't see anything wrong with it. And besides, you're so pretty when you pout, let me enjoy it for a little longer!” he adds, giving me a half-smile.

“I'm not four years old anymore, Ferdinand. I don't pout. I'm just... worried.”

“Diamonds still up to his usual tricks?”

“You could say that.”

“My opinion means little to you, I imagine. But there's one thing I don't understand. You don't seem to be the type to let other people walk all over you. Why are you so different with him?”

“Because I love him. And you're right, your opinion means little to me.”

“Do you really think you need to go through so much suffering for love? That your billionaire has nothing to be ashamed of?”

“I'm not naïve, I'm aware that our relationship is complicated, but...”

“Do you ever wonder if it would be better to be with someone else? Someone more committed? Someone less selfish? Wouldn't it be simpler? Easier?”

“Love isn't supposed to be simple. Or easy, for that matter!”

“You're deceiving yourself, Amandine. That's how I love. But I'm sure that means little to you.”

Our eyes lock and our gazes meet for several long seconds. I'm taken by surprise. Ordinarily so playful, this man's sincerity disarms me.

Danger.

“What are you trying to tell me?” I ask, a little reluctantly.

“That it's time to get back to work, little Ms Smiley Face!” he shouts a little too loudly, in order to disguise what her really feels, I think.

He gets up, smiling at me, takes a little bow and heads back to his office.

FDB and his two facets: charmingly insufferable or an insufferable charmer.

The day drags by. I leave the agency at 7 o'clock on the nose, sighing. Obviously I haven't managed to get my mind off of Gabriel's texts, but I've stuck to my guns. I haven't replied to him. What does he mean, “Stay home tonight?” Why so cold? Is he getting ready to call it off between us? To tell me that he and Eleanor have already set their wedding date? This thought makes me feel nauseous. Leaving the Haussmann style building, I lift my head and see a familiar face.

“Hello, Ms Baumann. Mr Diamonds sent me. He asked me to take you back to Bercy.”

“Hello. Thanks, but I prefer the subway. If Mr Diamonds would like me to take a car ride, he should come and pick me up himself.”

“Very well. I'll relay the message to him. Have a lovely evening, Miss.”

I walk away, hoping I haven't just got this man fired, and curse Gabriel. What is he playing at here? None of this seems like him at all.

He's going to leave me. He's going to leave me. He's going to leave me.

Entering my flat, nearly forty-five minutes later, I'm assailed by the divine wafts of his cologne. No doubt about it, he's here! A wave of panic comes over me. I almost turn around and run away as fast as I can. But he's already planted firmly in the doorway of my living room, his light blue gaze gauging me seriously. In a pale blue shirt and raw jeans, his tanned arms crossed against his muscular chest, he stares at me directly. The first thing that comes to my mind completely exasperates me: I don't think he's ever looked this handsome before.

“First you don't answer me. Then you send my driver packing,” he says, his jaw tense.

“Nothing gets by you, from what I can see!” I respond sharply.

“Amande,” he says, coming towards me.

“Don't take another step! I'm not playing this time. Tell me what you need to tell me and go!”

He takes me seriously and freezes, astonished, then furious.

“What are you saying? Amandine, I'm...”

“What? You're what this time? Sorry? In a hurry? Lost? You don't know, you don't know any more?” I yell, emphasising the last sentence.

“Calm down!”

“No! This time you've gone too far! You disappeared for days, leaving me to rot in a corner, without telling me a thing!”

“Let me at least say something!”

“You were with her, weren't you? That's it, you don't want anything from me any more, I don't exist any more!”

He rushes towards me and I try to resist, but I'm no match for him. Without further ado, he presses me against the wall and places his hand over my mouth to stop me from yelling. His intoxicating scent floods my nostrils and the heat of his skin is already making me lose my mind, despite myself.

“Now you can close your pretty little mouth and listen to me, Amandine Baumann!” he yells, in a hoarse and atrociously manly voice. “Silas told me what state he found you in after my phone call. I didn't want to torture you any more, so I disappeared. I wanted to settle things with Eleanor and leave you out of all of this. If you think you can use that as an excuse to get rid of me, you're mistaken! Never, ever tell me to go away, do you hear me? Wherever you are, whatever you do, I'll always find you and you can't do anything to get me out of your life! You belong to me, do you understand that?”

He removes his hand to free my mouth but I don't have time to get a word in. His voracious and exquisite lips are already on top of mine, forcing their way in. I yield to his domination, stunned by what I've just heard. Then his iron hands lift me up and take me to the bedroom. One by one, my clothes fall onto the floor.

Nestled in his arms, I wake up slowly. This passionate lovemaking managed to calm some of my anxieties, but not all of them. I still don't know anything more about his reunion with his ex-fiancée.

“Gabriel?” I say, breaking the perfect silence that's come over the room.

“Hmm?” he replies, still in a haze.

“Tell me about... Eleanor.”

“Later,” he manages to say, pulling me to him. “I missed you so much.”

Too easy, Diamonds.

“I need to know. Is she in Paris?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see her?”

“Just for a little while. But I can't tell you more about it just now.”

I try to protest, but his lips are already upon my neck, his hands are caressing my bare skin. My barriers crumble away.

After all, that can wait.

2.
Jealousy

Gabriel has stayed glued to my side. For a week, he's been smothering me with attention every evening. But he still refuses to tell me what he's been up to during the day. He's not trying to conceal the truth, he's not hiding his 'rendezvous' with Eleanor, but he obstinately refuses to tell me about them in detail.

In detail? I'd be happy with a brief summary!

But no. I can ask him the same questions, over and over, as much as I like, but my mysterious lover will only skirt around the question and change the subject. All I know is that Virgile will be coming to Paris soon and that he's going to stay with Silas and Camille, to keep him away from Eleanor. Despite his secrecy, Gabriel acts very romantic and thoughtful. He doesn't miss a single opportunity to surprise me or send me all the way up to seventh heaven. We've gone to the opera, we've had candlelit dinners, we've explored Paris from the pontoon of a river boat, we've flown over the city in a helicopter, and we've run through Monceau Park hand in hand. My lover has rarely been so attentive and I guess he's trying to get me to forgive him for his cruel silence over the past few days. But what remains unsaid drives me crazy. When we're together, I can't do what he does: forget all about his ex-fiancée, or get over the fact that my rival has resurfaced.

Just like every morning since he got back, I have a hard time leaving his divine arms. And once again, my insatiable lover tries to hold me back.

“Beauregard can go a few hours without you, Amande. Me, on the other hand...” he adds, giving me a greedy glance and an impish smile.

“If I listened to you, they'd already have shown me the door,” I say, trying to get out of bed.

“Come here, I'll show you everything you can do against a door!” he says, forcefully pulling me to him, bursting into laughter.

A half hour later, I get out of the shower in a terrible rush and choose the first outfit within arm's reach in the big walk-in closet: a white pair of slim pants, a liberty top and camel pumps. I grab my purse in the hallway, throw on my trench coat and go back to Diamonds, who's battling the coffee machine.

“Soledad is never around when you need her!” he says, sarcastically.

“Yes, she should be on her way out the door, too,” I add, laughing.

“Right, that's it. I'm taking away all of her holiday time.”

“Are you going to put an electric bracelet on her to prevent her from ever leaving the house?”

“Excellent idea! I'm going to order two.”

“What's the second one for?”

“What do you think?”

Gabriel pounces upon me and kisses me passionately. I'm already twenty minutes late and I have no idea how I'm going to be able to wriggle free from his grip. Finally, the coffee machine decides to start working and the grating alarm that it emits surprises my Apollo, who lets me go for a second. I take advantage of the moment to turn around halfway and escape, giggling. Before the door of the mansion closes behind me, Gabriel's amused voice reaches my ears.

“Escape, Amande! You don't know what's waiting for you! Rather than an electronic bracelet, I'm going to find you a pair of handcuffs!”

Hmm... flashback!

Marcus has finally come back from the Dominican Republic and he makes me laugh for most of the day. His joke of the day: asking all of our coworkers what they think of his 'tan'.

“It's crazy, you never tell a black guy that he's got a nice complexion! Well, anyway, Adele at reception swore that I was her ray of sunshine this morning, at least that's something. Hey, your figure is looking killer, Amandine. I'm so jealous!”

I get an earful of this type of chatter for almost ten hours. I realise just how calm the office was without my favourite coworker.

Too calm.

After drinking a well-deserved mojito with him at the end of the day, I hop onto the subway to reunite with my secretive lover once again. Newly refreshed by this tete-a-tete with Marcus, I'm determined to get all the facts out of him. As the stations go by, the high-pitched voice of my acolyte comes back to mind: “You have the right to know, sweetie! Secrets are poison to lovers! Think about Marilyn, look where that led her! Believe me, darling, in your case, every truth is a truth worth knowing!”

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