Provocation (Explicitly Yours 3)

15

Twenty-four hours after she’d stormed out of his hotel room vowing never to touch him again, Lola woke up in Beau’s empty bed. She stood and tightened the belt of the robe she’d slept in. The balcony doors sat open, inviting a chill into the room. Lola stretched her arms toward the ceiling and refrained from patting herself on the back. She’d snuck into Beau’s room in the middle of the night and had come out the other side in one piece. It was a small miracle she hadn’t caved to his advances, but now she knew just what she was capable of.

“You’re still here.”

Lola looked over her shoulder. Beau stood on the other side of the bed with a towel around his waist and shaving cream all over his jaw.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked.

He pointed behind her. “Old habits.”

Lola turned forward again. The rising sun sent pink and orange streaks across the sky—the moment Lola would be climbing out of Beau’s limo back to Johnny. “I’m not leaving.”

“I don’t want you to,” he called from the bathroom.

She followed his voice. Beau leaned over the sink. It was unfamiliar territory for them, the fresh scent of his shaving cream and the scrape of the blade over his stubble.

“I was worried you might change your mind this morning,” she said.

He glanced briefly at her in the mirror’s reflection. “I didn’t.”

“How do we do this?”

He dragged the razor up his cheek, mowing down each of the bristles Lola loved to feel against her face. Beau had enough money to buy a human, but apparently not an electric razor. That was him in a nutshell—rewards meant nothing if he hadn’t worked for them.

He rinsed the blade under running water. “It’s early. Why don’t we eat before we start in on this?”

Lola’s jaw tingled. The thought of eating breakfast food with him withered her insides. During their French toast meal the first night, her walls had begun to crumble—she’d even found herself happy despite how she’d gotten there. Reliving that would be more intimate than sleeping by his side. “I’m not hungry.”

Beau splashed water on his jaw and, without warning, pulled the towel from around his waist. Lola swallowed her gasp before it escaped. She kept her eyes up, but it was nearly impossible not to peek.

He held her gaze as he patted his face dry, walked over and kissed her head. “Just coffee then,” he said on his way out of the bathroom. “I already have some brewing.”

When she was alone, she released her breath. She had to keep it together. This was the equivalent of entering his conference room to negotiate, and that’d been his first power play. Knowing him, there was more coming.

Lola returned to the bedroom, glancing around. Any trace she’d been there before then was gone. There was no lipstick on the comforter, and her beaded dress had been cleaned up. Beau’d probably thought removing her from his life was as easy as calling for maid service.

She went to the balcony and snuggled into her robe. It’d been out there, in the middle of their second night, that it’d hit her how much she’d already given Beau. It turned out, though, she hadn’t given him anything. He’d taken it.

She rubbed her hands over her biceps. In that spot, Beau had held her so tightly, as if he’d thought she might disappear right before his eyes.

What if she had? What if one moment she’d been there, and the next she was gone, leaving him holding on to nothing but air?

“What’re you thinking about?” Beau asked from behind her.

Lola loo

ked back at him. He had two mugs in his hands and, thankfully, pajama pants on his body. “Why?”

“You’re tense.”

Lola forced her shoulders down from around her ears. Beau was a man who took great care when dealing with his adversaries, but she didn’t have the resources or the practice he did. Honesty was one of her only weapons. “I was thinking about the last time we were out here. I was scared.”

“Scared?” he repeated.

“Things were happening so fast. I was falling for you, and suddenly I realized that I didn’t have to stop it. That I could fall, because—”

She stopped to let Beau’s imagination fill in the blanks. At the same time, she pushed herself to relive those moments and tap into the pain that would fuel her.

He came up behind her. She sucked in a breath. Out of instinct, her muscles locked up. His touch could threaten her focus, and she could never forget that.

He set their coffee on the railing and wrapped her in his arms. “You’re shivering.”

“Am I?” She hadn’t realized it.

“What were you going to say?” he prompted. “You could let yourself fall, because…”

Lola wanted to steady herself on the railing, but she couldn’t move while he held her that hard. She closed her eyes and returned to Beau’s arms that night, under the stars where an unexpected love bloomed inside her. She didn’t fight the memory. She used it. “I was going to change my entire life for you. It was terrifying and risky, but you made me feel safe. For a few hours, at least.”

He rubbed his smooth cheek against hers. She missed the scruff. “I told you if you left Johnny, I’d be here,” he said. “And here I am. I think I had to lose you in order to learn the truth.”

“What’s the truth?”