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Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2)

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Prologue

Bubbles & Petals

Eden

What does he have planned this evening?

Earlier, Jean-Pierre sent a box with a robe and a card packed inside. The instructions were to take off my clothes, put on the robe, and open the card in the bathroom.

Alrighty. Let’s see where this is going.

I did as instructed.

Minutes later, I stepped inside the massive space.

Jean-Pierre had spared no expense with his bathroom. It was not only the most extravagant place I’d ever peed in, but most would consider it the crème de la crème of bathrooms.

One giant window stood next to the tub, displaying a remarkable view of Paris. Several feet away, a jewel-encrusted bidet sat next to a heated, digital toilet. A few steps further, there was a freestanding rain shower surrounded by stained glass.

I had no idea rich people released their fluids in such decadence.

And the opulence didn’t stop there. The space boasted gilded wash basins, and candelabras, fresco vaulted ceilings, and a full entertainment system that was operated by voice command. A massive aquarium wall flanked on the right. Breathtaking tropical fish swam around the huge tank.

Oh. This is even nicer.

Sometime earlier today, Jean-Pierre’s butler had placed large vases of roses in the room. Lit candles sat on every raised surface. A vanity sat by the hot tub with several bottles of wine and two glasses. Perfumed steam rose from a solid gold bathtub.

I pulled the card out and opened it.

Eden,

I’m sorry I had to leave early this morning. I’m mad I missed the whole day with you. Before dinner, let’s relax with a glass of wine in the bathtub.

I want to taste your skin.

Jean-Pierre

My body warmed. I closed the card and tucked it back into my bathrobe pocket.

I can’t think of anything better than relaxing with you in warm water.

I walked over to the window, and spent a few moments appreciating the Paris nightscape. Only a few weeks ago, I’d been in the States. In fact, a few weeks ago, I’d had an entirely different life. Now. . .I had to relearn my own life and piece together what was reality, and what was Jean-Pierre’s and Aunt Celina’s. Even now, Jean-Pierre’s confession came out of nowhere, and blew me away.

I thought about our conversation last night. I’d finally made some sort of decision about how we would proceed forward. And the answer had been more of a…maybe, then a certainty. I had to relearn him, Aunt Celina, and even myself.

His life scared me too. How much could I deal with? How much would be okay, before I wanted to walk away.

And could I walk away?

Jean-Pierre’s words from last night ran through my head.

“Again, I want to be as honest as possible.” Jean-Pierre tugged my head back some more to lap at the curve of my neck. The sensual attention gave me no time to process his statement. “I’m going to fight to be with you, Eden.”

A shiver ran up my spine.

My body continued to heat for him.

He devoured me, and all I could do was let him. If there’d ever been a part of me that was having second thoughts or cold to him, it was now warm. He’d melted it away.

“Let’s try this,” I whispered. “I… can’t walk away from you either, Jean-Pierre. Although I don’t have the power, like you, to make me stay, I…would do everything to keep you around. Even though I’m still confused about everything. Even though I’m still. . .scared of who you are.”

“I would keep it away from you.”

“Still…let’s try.”

“I’ll take it.” He kissed me hard, swallowing down any response I could’ve came up with. And then in a rush, he lifted me up into his arms, opened the door, and carried me in.

I gripped my robe, needing to hold on to something as the memory of last night rocked me.

Once I’d said yes, we went to his condo in Paris. He was fully inviting me into his world, and I worried, if I could make it.

I slid the robe off, draped it across the vanity, and stepped into the bubbling water. Steam rose and twisted up my legs. I gasped as the warm water slipped against my skin. Rose petals floated on the surface among bubbles. I lowered myself into the tub, submerging my naked body in silky water. Jet streams hit my body, gently massaging and making me think of Jean-Pierre’s hands.

This is heaven. No regrets yet.

I’d been doing a regret-check with myself each hour. Jean-Pierre had confessed the truth this week, and I still wasn’t sure, if my staying was the right choice. I just knew, I didn’t want to walk away. I had to see if what we had was real.

Aunt Celina still hasn’t called back. Neither has Shalimar.

My gut twisted with worry. Jean-Pierre promised to find out what was going on last night. I woke this morning and he’d already rushed off.



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