“Have you played Eros before?” I asked.
He twisted the violin around as he studied it. “Is that what you named her? Eros?”
“The violin is a he.”
He smiled and handed Eros over to me. “Is it now?”
I held Eros and placed him in the case, nervous with the way Jean-Pierre was gazing at him.
“Yes. I played the instrument,” Jean-Pierre said. “I named your Eros, Belladonna long ago. Sure, the violin was like a beautiful woman to me, but also, there was a respect that needed to be in order. When I thought of Belladonna, I envisioned the poisonous plant. Full of toxic, ripe berries.”
“Why think of the violin that way?”
“Because music has brought good and bad. But sometimes I wonder if it was the music that brought the bad things, or was it love that ruined me?”
I had no answer.
Slowly, Jean-Pierre walked around me. “How fitting that Belladonna ended up in the city named after her? How fitting that I spotted her years ago in the lovely arms of a humble violinist who had no idea of her worth? And how crazy that both Belladonna and you ended up in a brothel years later, peddling for tips?”
I swallowed.
He stopped right in front of me. “I’ve been a fan for a while.”
My heart pounded.
“At first at the symphonies. . .I watched you play her with envy. Then I slowly pushed it away and saw the beauty in your songs. But now. . .”
“I’m in a brothel.”
He frowned. “Playing for fools.”
“It was the Symphony’s fault. I was happy to play the violin on stage for years.”
“Well, now if you want to play her, you’ll only play her for me. Do you understand why?”
I looked away. “I think I do.”
“Why?”
“You own Eros.” I swallowed.
It was the only thing that made sense. If he didn’t already own her, he’d planned to take her.
Or, am I off altogether?
“You’re right. I own her. I have a middle man serving as the benefactor. Last week, I returned to Belladonna for her.”
Dread encased me. I wasn’t sure what I could do. I thought I had a chance to convince the benefactor to let me borrow it longer. Jean-Pierre had a real history to the violin. There would be no reason to let me keep it, especially if I was just sitting in a brothel playing it.
I should have never gotten so close to the instrument, when it wasn’t mine.
“There.” He crossed his big arms over his chest. “The stakes are higher.”
“What does that mean?”
“Now we have more on the table to negotiate. I want to hear you play, naked, and only for me. And after, I want you on your knees. I want to be inside of you. How much to make love to you, Eden?”
My body was a tornado moving back and forth between worry and lust. I hadn’t dealt with anything like this before. Excitement and panic. Desire and horror.
“You. . .you want to have a sexual arrangement with me. . .where I play the violin also? Naked?”
“Yes. Shalimar would call it the Girlfriend Experience. For a price, you’re mine. Your time is mine. Your playing is mine. Those beautiful hands and lips are all mine. And that body is mine too.”
“And…for how long?”
“Until I get bored.”
A knock came at the door.
He glanced up.
One of his men entered and they exchanged several words in French. The whole time Jean-Pierre watched me. And in my head, I tried to gather the logic behind what I would do.
He turned to me. “My guests have arrived. Come this way. We’ll have time to talk about this later.”
Chapter 7
Lady Envy
Eden
Jean-Pierre guided me into a large and dimly lit room.
Five men sat in the far back. Each had their own love seat, complete with two attentive women. The females were dressed in diamonds and pearls. A few fed the men with fruit or poured them glasses of wine.
Many of the men turned my way as Jean-Pierre showed me to my chair. A violet, velvet cushion covered the top. Its legs were gold.
I sat down and took Eros out.
Now knowing that Jean-Pierre had once played this instrument, it was hard to not feel a greater intimacy with him. He’d strummed the strings. Those lovely hands had gripped the bow and slid it back and forth. How he must’ve made the instrument sing.
I squeezed my thighs at the thought.
“Yes. Shalimar would call it the Girlfriend Experience. For a price, you’re mine. Your time is mine. Your playing is mine. Those beautiful hands and lips are all mine. And that body is mine too.”
“And…for how long?”
“Until I get bored.”
He called this proposal the Girlfriend Experience, and it sounded perfect, except the part of him dropping me when he got bored. I couldn’t survive something like that. The rejection. The heartbreak. Because my heart would be open with Jean-Pierre. There would be no way I could turn my emotions off.