I closed the box and put it in my pocket. “Why is Celina giving Eden this?”
“Because we assume that Jean-Pierre has told her everything.”
“He has.”
“Celina wants Eden to remember who she is, and where she came from.”
“And why is Celina hiding?”
“That’s her business. It has nothing to do with Eden and she wants it to stay far away from her.”
“But is it going to stay far away?” I leaned back in my chair. “Eden’s roommate is dead and the cat.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Her bottom lip quivered, but she shook it off and straightened her face. “It’s sad, but I think that’s a case of the wrong place wrong time.”
“Leo was in his own apartment.”
“Apparently, that wasn’t a good place to be at the time.”
“And then there were two women found dead in your apartment.”
She blinked and gripped the edge of the table.
“Who was that?”
She swallowed. “That was my mother and sister.”
“I’m sorry.”
She rose from the table. “That was all I had to do in Paris. I’m leaving.”
“You’re not.” I jumped up.
People from other tables looked our way.
She stormed off.
I followed.
Chattering people moved out of her way. One waitress had to twist around Shalimar as she balanced several bottles on her tray.
I caught up to Shalimar. “Who killed them?”
She quickened her steps to the door. “I don’t know.”
“You know something.” I grabbed her arm and stopped her. “I can deal with anyone that’s coming after you.”
“We already have help.”
“What kind of help?”
“None of your business. This doesn’t deal with the Corsican. Stay out of it.”
“You don’t know what this deals with.”
She wrenched her arm away from me. “I know more than you. Now leave me alone.”
“You know that I’ll never leave you alone.”
She glared at me. “If you don’t, you’ll die.”
“Are you threatening me, vixen?”
“I’m warning you, Rafael.”
“I don’t like warnings.”
“Leave me alone and don’t follow me.”
I raised my arms. “Fine. I won’t follow you.”
Louis is already doing it for me.
“Bye, Rafael.” She opened the door and walked away.
I called back at her. “You never said, if you liked the restaurant.”
The door slammed close.
That went well.
I didn’t move.
Her words rang over and over inside my head.
“Leave me alone and don’t follow me.”
In my head, I screamed. In my head, I slammed my fist against the wall over and over, cracking the pretty pink dragons and Eiffel towers. In my mind, the pieces cut through my skin, and still I felt nothing.
Shalimar. Shalimar. How do I erase the past? How do I make things better?
I craved her. I wanted to lose myself in her. Consume her. And be consumed. All I cared about was having her.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Louis. “You still have eyes on her?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s spotting our men. Have some women come on and watch her.”
“Got it.” Louis hung up.
I stepped outside, no longer hungry for food.
That damn chef fucked up the moment. If Shalimar had seen the place in its entirety. . .
Who was I kidding anymore? Definitely not myself. The restaurant was literally a symbol for my lack of success with the real Shalimar. I sucked with the restaurant and I sucked with the woman.
Both no one understood.
Both everyone balked at.
Both I’d turned ugly and cold.
My head fogged with failure.
This evening Shalimar had held no warmth in those beautiful eyes. They were cold, freezing my soul.
And she hadn’t brought my heart with her. Did she throw it away? Did she sling it at the end of the earth after shitting and stepping all over it?
So much aggression filled my head. I wanted to yell at somebody. First, the chef for having the audacity to make executive decisions in my own restaurant.
Had Shalimar only taken the time to see some of the dishes. . .
I wanted to scream at Shalimar too. She didn’t even glance at the menu or me. She’d been disinterested in both. All she cared about was giving me the damn box and then rushing away.
I dove my hands into my pocket and grabbed the box. “You think you can come to my city, say your little threats, and then walk away?”
My sweet vixen. You’ve forgotten who I am. I’ll have to remind you.
Chapter 7
The Smell of Love
Eden
I lay in bed with Jean-Pierre.
We’d woken up and saw the sun rise. Then, we returned to his room, ate breakfast in bed, and fucked until we both cried together in pleasure.
It was hard not to stay naked and horny around him.
Rafael interrupted us an hour after we were done. Since that moment, Jean-Pierre had not returned.
Why do I always miss him so much? Especially his smell?
He’d been gone for a while, but that sweet fragrance of him lingered on. So addicted to him, I lay on his pillow and breathed in his scent. Each inhale of him whispered a little song about what we’d just done.
Damn.
I gripped the sheets and squeezed my thighs, breathing him in some more.