Provocation (Explicitly Yours 3)

Provocation

Explicitly Yours 3

* * *

For Beau Olivier, control is everything. He thought getting his power back from Lola Winters meant he’d won the game, but all he did was teach her how to play. Now, Lola’s ready to take on the master himself, and only she knows the rules.

* * *

In order for Lola to get close enough to hurt him, she has to love him. It won’t be easy to love the devil, but it will be worth it—if it means sending him to hell where he belongs.

1

Present day

Lola’s heels clicked against the hallway’s hardwood floors like the countdown of a ticking time bomb. Windows lined one side, and the rising sun striped the opposite wall with sharp-cornered shadows. The house, square between the curves of the Hollywood Hills, was renowned for its modern design. But Lola didn’t see the appeal in a home that echoed her every move. To her, it was a shell—beautiful on the outside, hollow on the inside. Just like its owner.

She crossed the foyer on her way to the kitchen. At the entryway table, under the garish Montgolfier chandelier, she stopped to center a vase of Calla lilies—amongst such perfection, the slightest flaw glared. She slid a flower out of the arrangement and dragged her fingertip up its stem, bending it nearly to the point of snapping. Even the house’s feminine touches were stiff. Lola had once loved Calla lilies, especially the purple-hearted ones like this that were edged in white. But she’d learned to be wary of anything that thrived in such barren surroundings.

“You’re up early,” she heard from behind her.

Lola replaced the flower, slipping it back into its spot, and turned around. Beau leaned in the doorway, his suit straight and sharp, a newspaper folded under his arm.

She went to him. “I wanted to say good morning before you left.”

He checked his watch. “By the skin of your teeth.”

She smiled thinly. Beau was punctual. That was no surprise. But when she’d fantasized about spending a morning with him, it hadn’t been anything like this—scrounging for extra minutes. Not that it really mattered.

She put slinky arms around his neck, drew his head down to hers. “Are you hungry? I can make you something quick.”

“What do you think?” His voice deepened as he rested a hand on her lower back, at the base of her zipper. “I’m a man who hasn’t eaten in almost three weeks.”

Lola lingered a moment, their mouths close, prolonging a kiss that wasn’t just a kiss. It was a sneak preview. A tease. A warning. She pressed her lips to his like a woman who didn’t want her boyfriend to walk out the door. Like a woman in love.

When she pulled away, one corner of Beau’s mouth curved into a smile. “Wow. Careful, or I won’t be held responsible for breaking your rules.”

She shrugged and fixed his tie, even though it was perfectly straight. “I’ve been thinking—about us.” She glanced up at him from under her lashes. “About the rules.”

He took a handful of her backside. “Probably not as much as I have.”

“I’m ready, Beau. Tonight.”

His expression didn’t change, but she caught the slight twitch of his eye. “Don’t tease me,” he said. “It wouldn’t be wise to put chocolate cake in front of a starving man.”

Lola removed her arms to take his cheeks in her hands. “I know it’s been difficult these past three weeks—”

“Two and a half.”

This time, Lola flinched. As if she needed a reminder of how dangerous it could be to let her guard down for even a second. She ignored the comment. “You’ve been patient,” she continued. “I haven’t forgotten anything, but I’m ready to start moving forward.”

With his hand on her ass, Beau pulled her against him, forcing her feet to shuffle forward the last few inches. “Why wait until tonight? I can be a couple minutes late.”

Lola’s heart hammered once, the way it always did when Beau got like this—impatient. He could be convincing in a way that was hard for her to resist, but she had to. Giving in to him now could unravel everything. “I want it to be special—not in the doorway on your way to work. You can survive until tonight.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he said. “I’ve never slept next to the same woman this many nights in a row without so much as a handjob. It’s miraculous I’m still upright.”

Lola shook her head but smiled. “You are a true romantic, Mr. Olivier. I’m a lucky woman.”

He put his knuckle under her chin to keep her eyes on him. “I’m the lucky one.”

“Are you?” The words came out of her mouth too fast. Now, around him, she filtered everything. But today was a day she’d been anticipating for a while, and that alone was a reason to be even more careful.

Along with excitement came a tiny crack of doubt inside her, though. It was silly. She knew how Beau felt. He was happy she was there, even if he wasn’t around all the time. He loved her, despite the fact that he hadn’t told her. He didn’t always show it, but she was his priority. She had to believe those things were true, because if not, then all this had been for nothing.

“Am I lucky?” he asked. “I’ve been given a second chance I didn’t deserve. I thought I had it all, Lola, but I was coming home to an empty house. I just didn’t realize that was a bad thing until I started coming home to you. I’m a lucky son of a bitch. And I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

She glanced away, but only for a second—it was a telling habit she’d been trying to kick. Beau didn’t consider himself romantic. Lola disagreed. The rest of the world could keep their flowers and candy. For her, Beau was taking a dull hammer to his brick walls, a slow process, but one that meant more to her than anything money could buy. It still wasn’t enough.

Despite fighting herself every waking moment, she loved him. She couldn’t have faked all the things she had without that. When he’d broken her heart, though, she’d buried that love—and she threw more dirt on it every day. Because Lola wasn’t happy. And if Beau thought she was, then he didn’t know her at all.

“I should get to the office,” he said when she didn’t respond. “The sooner this day is over, the sooner I’ll be home with you.”

Beau was sweeter in the morning, before the day had gotten to him. She didn’t doubt he meant what he said, but during the week, he only came home at a decent time when they had an event to attend. Those nights, he was always standing too close, touching her somewhere, as if assuring himself she was real.

“Be home by seven o’clock.” She didn’t smile. She crossed her arms, tapping her index finger on her bicep. “And I don’t mean leave work at seven. We have a reservation at seven-thirty.”

“We do?”

“I told you last week I was making dinner plans and not to schedule anything.”

“If I did, I’ll cancel it. Now that I know what’s in store for tonight.” He tucked some of her hair behind her ear. She knew the low-lidded look he was giving her well—she got it several times a day. She’d asked him once what he was thinking about when he made that expression, and he’d just said, “Us.”

“Listen—why don’t you let my assistant handle tonight?” he asked. “Pick any restaurant, I don’t care how exclusive. She’ll make it happen. I want the best for…”

Lola stopped listening, pressing her lips together, her jaw tingling. She wanted to ask him what the hell made him think she’d prefer an expensive restaurant to anything else. Hell, an In-N-Out burger and a chocolate shake was enough to make her mouth water. Despite the staggering amount of cash she had stashed in a locker downtown, she was still the same Lola who wore beat-up Converse and regularly chose beer over wine.

“You surprised me with balcony seats to the ballet last week,” Lola said, interrupting whatever he was saying. “I want to return the favor.”

Beau arched an eyebrow. “It’s a surprise?”

She smoothed her hand over his tie. “You’re always in charge. Just relax. Let me do this for you.”

“I like being in charge.”

With the drop in his tone, an unexpected thrill ran up her spine. If Beau did one thing well, it was taking charge. That was how she’d ended up on her stomach on his hotel bed their second night together, letting him have her in ways Johnny hadn’t in their nine years together. It was also the reason she had to be on alert at all times.