Chapter 8

Eight

Jemma

T o my right I watch snow drift by. In the shower. Actually, the entire wall is glass and gives a breathtaking view of Paris.

From the open door of the bathroom to my left I spy a set of clothes spread out on the bed for me as I step out of the shower. It's all so surreal.

The location, the company. This hotel suite.

It's the middle of winter in freaking Paris. And I'm here. Holy crap! Part of me wants to squeal with glee at ticking something off my wish list. But I keep it cool and take the towel Daemon hands me. Or at least I try.

He puts a hand on my shoulder and turns me around. Warmth engulfs me when he wraps one fluffy towel around my shoulders so large it hangs past my knees while taking another to dry my hair.

He's in no hurry it seems. He makes sure to soak up the extra water from each section and then sets to work on my body just as methodically. I moan a little in appreciation. It's like drying with clouds.

While I might come from money my parents never saw the need to go all out and spend on ‘frivolous' things like decadent towels and trips abroad. And now that I'm on my own, well, let's just say I can't exactly eat plane tickets or towels.

Daemon kneels in front of me, taking a foot to rest on his knee. With more gentleness than I expect he dries my leg, foot and each toe.

I take him in as he silently cares for me. He's so handsome. Not in the polished, I'm a billionaire and I want you to know it way . There's not a flaunting, flamboyant bone in his body. Not Daemon. He's more the rough around the edges, quiet type who'd rather show by action than talk about it, I'm quickly learning.

He has a rugged build and stands a couple of inches taller than the other two. I've only known him as a professor who is distant, direct and always in teacher mode. Except for the few times our gazes locked over the podium. In those stolen moments my imagination always took over.

He moves me to the bedroom featuring a huge four-poster bed pushed up against a window showcasing the Eiffel tower. Stunning.

Daemon doesn't rush me. Together we stand there for long minutes taking it in. Me in a towel and him in the same pair of slacks from yesterday.

He wraps his arms around me and I settle my back against his chest, my head on his shoulder.

"You'll find everything you need on the bed or in the closet. I hope you don't mind, I picked out something I thought you might like." He nods toward the bed. "If you don't like it, check the closet. There's more for you."

I turn in his arms and flutter my lashes open. This all feels like a dream. One I hope I never wake from. "I'm sure what you picked is fine." His presence is comforting and I realize for the first time in a while I'm not worrying over something.

He places a kiss on my forehead and I realize there's something different about him too. The hard edginess to his eyes is gone and, dear God. I think he actually looks happy. The scowl I've forever associated with him is gone.

"I'm going to shower while you get ready. Then we'll eat. Come in if you need anything. There's makeup, lip gloss..."

He trails off with a shrug and I can tell he's nervous. Daemon Preston is nervous to be alone with me.

I smile and I guess he sees my confusion. He rubs at the pinch between my brows. "We called ahead. Had a personal shopper drop off items for you."

Well, at least that answers one of my curiosities.

He taps my nose and then turns, leaving me alone.

I make quick work of pulling on the panty and bra set the color of fresh snow. Next the pair of jeans with fashionably placed rips. Sweet Jesus...how did I know they would fit like a glove? I'm quickly learning these men never do anything halfway.

The white sweater slides on just as easily. Cashmere. I truly am in heaven.

A pair of knee-high boots are leaning against the bed and I pull those on next. By the time I get to my hair and makeup Daemon is already out of the shower and pulling on a pair of black slacks.

I watch shamelessly through the mirror. It gives me a perfect view of every inch of his body rippling and bunching as he dresses.

His dark eyes find mine in the mirror. "You keep looking at me like that and I'll forget about taking you sightseeing, breakfast...everything. And show you other things instead."

I blush. Yep! After all he's seen and tasted of me I still blush.

I stare at him for a moment weighing my options. He prowls across the room shirt hanging open, all those abs on display for me to drool over.

His expression darkens into something unreadable. He comes up behind me, his hands circling my waist, and he pulls me against him. I start to swallow and then stop, realizing I have nothing to fear but my own lust.

He moves my hair to the side and licks up the side of my neck. "Be a good girl and when we get back, I'll fuck that sweet pussy all night long."

I don't have it in me to argue. Dear God I am in so much trouble if the morning is any clue as to how the rest of the day will go.

I quickly dry my hair, dab mascara on and grab the strawberry lip gloss for my pocket. I go to head out, but make a quick turn to grab my bracelet from the dresser.

Outside the bedroom there's a spacious living room slash dining room area with a kitchenette off to the side. That's where I find Daemon alone with a bowl, several eggs and a pan.

"How do you like your eggs?" He doesn't look up as he artfully cracks several one-handedly.

"Scrambled, fried, anything but raw please." I watch in awe as he pulls fruit, butter and what looks like cheese spread from a tiny fridge tucked under the edge of the counter.

"All that fit in there?"

"Somehow, yep."

Ten minutes later he's made us scrambled eggs with bell pepper, buttered toast, coffee and strawberries on the side.

"I had no idea you could cook."

He forks in a mouthful of egg and washes it back with a couple of gulps of coffee. His Adam's apple bobs and I'm fixated on the sight.

He catches me looking and smirks.

I drop my eyes back where they belong, on my own plate. "Where's Warren and Erik?"

"Meetings." His eyes come to rest on mine and he flashes me a brilliant smile. "It's just you and me for the day." I know the serious Daemon and even the horny Daemon but the playful version of him is just as exciting. A small thrill runs through me.

After a quick breakfast, Daemon ushers me into a heavy coat, scarf and gloves and pushes us out the door.

Window shopping isn't my style, but we spend hours walking up and down cobblestoned streets, taking in every site to behold of this glorious city. Every once in a while, Daemon leaves me to dash off to one place or another only to return with a coffee, muffins, bread, oh my God, the bread here is off the charts. And my fave, buttery croissants.

I never pegged him as a foodie but you know what they say about judging books by their covers. He labels every ingredient of each delicious treat.

Full and a little tired, I lean into him a little more and place a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," I don't want to forget to say thank you in case I fall asleep when we get back. "Thank you for taking the time to show me so many beautiful spots. I've never seen any of these places in brochures."

We dodge a pile of snow and weave around some late-evening shoppers. "That's because these places are hidden treasure for the locals. None of the places we visited today are on a tourist map."

"Ah," I say. "And you know this…?"

A wistful look comes over him and I see memories cloud his dark eyes. "Because my grandmother on my mother's side is from here. Born and raised. I spent every summer and holiday with her until she passed when I was a teenager."

I tighten my grip on his arm and lean my head against his arm. "I'm sorry, Daemon. I guess that explains how you speak the language so fluently."

When I first heard him I admit, I was shocked.

"Before my mother sent me away the first time, I kept to myself. Always tucked away in some library with little friends and fewer interests in activities like soccer or fishing. Regular boy things."

"And after?"

"My mother had no interest or time to focus on me. My grandmother on the other hand taught me everything there is to know about cooking since she couldn't run after a ball."

"That sounds kind of nice. Why did your mother have so little time?"

"She paid more attention to her work as the CEO of a large business. Not too many people have time to raise kids when they are trying to run a business. I guess I have her to thank for my work addiction, though."

Hurt colors his words and I have a feeling he has rarely spoken these words aloud to another soul. How could a mother not have time for their own child? I mentally ask myself the question and instantly understand his pain. "Though not exactly the same I live with similar pain. My mother and father have little time for me since I didn't take the path they wanted me to take."

He looks at me and for the first time I see Daemon. The real man behind the scowl he's always wearing.

"Like souls, the two of us."

He leaves it at that and wraps his arm around me. I tuck my head a little closer. We walk like this linked together and I can't help but feel like a real couple.

I change the topic to a brighter one. "What would you like to do next? We should probably get back. I need to call the school, my friend and roommate. My work. Oh, Lord. I forgot to call in. They'll be worried. Plus, there's the question about my tuition." I start to walk faster.

Damn. How could I be so mindless? I clap a hand over my forehead.

Daemon comes to a stop and so do I since he has my hand in his. "All taken care of. You don't need to worry."

I shake my head. "What? how? Um, yeah I do need to worry," I say flatly. "I need that job and my apartment. Or rather room inside said apartment." I take a deep breath. "As lovely as this has been, I don't get to just pick up and go. We've talked about this, Daemon."

The bastard plasters an amused grin on his face like he finds me cute. I'm tempted to jerk my hand out of his and leave him standing in the middle of Paris.

Only what he says next stops me.

"Before you let the worry take over, come. Let me show you one more thing I'd like for you to see." He nudges my chin up. "Please." We're standing at the head of a street that looks endless before us. Most of the locals hurry along or have already gone home for the day so it's just us.

On either side of the street small shop buildings are awash with fading sunlight, the light catching on reflective surfaces that make them look dusted in magic. It quickly morphs as the sun sets to bathe the street in an amber gradient, giving off a romantic glow. Low-hanging beams are slowly turning the sky orange and pink above. Thankfully the snow clouds are clearing and we witness the light show. Shop lights flicker on one by one and the lights along the street take my breath away.

"Daemon. It's so beautiful." I can't look away.

He growls something but I don't know what because he's coming in for a kiss, wiping the hard drive of my brain clean. It's tender and slow, unlike the last few times he's taken my mouth. Unhurried, passionate.

He presses his forehead against mine. "I've travelled the world, belle , and this right here is the single most beautiful place on Earth with you here."

"Belle?"

"Beautiful."

His hands come to rest on my face and I move mine over his. The movement makes my bracelet jingle and it catches his eye. How could anyone ever not have time or love for such a tender soul as is?

He takes it in hand and studies each piece like it's a puzzle he needs to figure out.

"These hearts. Past lovers?"

Is that pain I hear in his voice? Can't be. I shake my head, not entirely ready to give up all my secrets.

"And this?" He brushes over the snowflake. For a second I wonder if I should tell him my secret, but talking about my father is the last thing on my mind. I'd rather be here in the now with Daemon, but I can't stop the wave of sadness coming over me.

He tightens a hand around my arms and spins me into an alley. He pins me against a brick wall, hovering his large frame over me.

"Tell me. Who was he? I will kill the man who has put that hurt in your eyes and Erik and Warren will bury the body."

I pale for a second and then suddenly laugh. It's hard not to when I hear such conviction and see the truth staring back at me through thick black lashes.

I place my hand over his heart. "No. No crimes that would take any of you away from me. Especially with the short time we have together. Plus, he's not worth it."

A dark look returns to his expression. Did I say something wrong? Out of line?

He doesn't say anything for a second and turns his gaze to a point down the alleyway. "Daemon?" I ask timidly.

He whips his head back and when our gazes lock, I feel the full force of his power hit me head on. "I knew you liked us, belle ."

That easy smile of his doesn't fool me for a second. Something is going on behind the mask he wants me to see. Deep down I fear I might have hurt him.

"I think that part is obvious," I say, returning the smile.

A light wind flits by and with it comes the smell of fresh bread, sweet flowers and rich coffee.

He wraps an arm around my middle, guiding me to another side street, this one narrower and quainter than the last. There's a small café with light rimming the edges of the storefront windows. We duck inside and find a table overlooking the street just as it begins to snow again.

I take a seat but he doesn't join me. Instead, he kneels beside me, his lips next to my ear.

" Tu es plus belle que le flocon de neige le plus parfait ," he murmurs in the huskiest voice that has hot liquid pooling between my thighs.

"What does that mean?"

He takes the snowflake between two fingers, considering it from all angles. "You're more beautiful than the most perfect snowflake."

He kisses me on the forehead. "Wait for me here?"

Curious, I nod and watch him step out the door and cross the street.

I need the breather anyway. So much of Daemon has my head spinning. The airplane ride here. The city of love. My three professors taking me. It's all so much. I don't know what to think outside of how I'm crazy and what they do to me erases all good sense.

His heavy winter coat blows in the wind as he briskly walks away. He looks like a mix between a cage fighter and a man who has spent years in the military. Though I don't know if either are true. He's a bull to most but I got to see a kinder side of him today. One I don't think many have experienced.

I smile to myself. I also got to see the hard side of him and I wouldn't mind seeing a little more.

I watch Daemon disappear around a corner. What is he up to this time?