The Man in the Black Suit

  “Nicholas?” she prompted.

  Nicholas slid his palm over the tablecloth, as if he were smoothing out wrinkles. “You saw the photographs of Silke with that American.”

  “I did. They were disgraceful.”

  Nicholas’s eyes seared into hers. “Ours was a business relationship. Silke was part of my cover. I needed someone who could move in and out of social events. I paid her a salary and secured an apartment for her. She traveled with me a few times a year.”

  Acacia’s fork clattered against her plate.

  A number of patrons turned to look.

  She flushed and brought her napkin to her mouth. “You paid her?”

  “She wouldn’t have considered me otherwise.” Nicholas laughed without amusement. “One of my associates introduced me to her in a different guise.” He gestured to where his scar rested beneath the prosthetic. “She tried to back out of our arrangement when she saw the true me. She said she couldn’t bear to look at me.”

  Acacia cringed. “Oh, Nicholas.”

  “Despite her mercenary heart, Silke had at least one loyalty. She works in intelligence.”

  “For whom?”

  “I can’t tell you.” Nicholas’s expression was serious. “She never disclosed who she was working for, but I investigated her before our arrangement took effect and found out.”

  He looked down at the table. “During one of our trips, one thing led to another. We started a sexual relationship that continued until she decided to take up with that American.”

  A feeling of horror passed over Acacia. She hadn’t given his previous relationship sufficient attention when she considered becoming involved with him. Clearly, his wounds were fresh.

  Nicholas glared into his champagne. “She broke our agreement, and she didn’t even have the courtesy to tell me herself. She engineered the paparazzi photos in order to break things off with me. I don’t know if the American is an asset she’s working, or if her heart, such as it is, is involved. I suspect the former.”

  Nicholas threw back his drink in a single swallow. He signaled for a waiter and ordered a vodka and tonic.

  “I’m sorry,” Acacia whispered. The feeling of horror grew. It was now resident in her stomach, twisting her insides.

  When the waiter returned with Nicholas’s drink, she placed her napkin on the table. “Please excuse me.”

  The waiter pulled out her chair, and Nicholas stood, his eyes stormy.

  Kurt followed as she exited the dining area and walked toward the ladies’ room. He waited outside the door.

  Inside, Acacia leaned against the vanity.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Nicholas had just confessed to hiring a spy to be his mistress. He’d continued paying her a salary after they started having sex. Acacia thought back to the Hotel Victoire’s guest records and the names of the women who’d accompanied him over the years. Had they been high-priced escorts, too?

  Acacia turned. In the mirror she could see the dress Nicholas had bought. She was living in an apartment he and his mother had renovated and decorated. She was eating a dinner he’d be paying for. What was the difference between she and Silke? Or she and Yasmin?

  Affection. You care for Nicholas, and your affection is given freely.

  In her reflection, she saw a woman who’d lived a life of fraud. A woman who lived in fear. Even so, she’d tried to find a way to be with Nicholas as an equal and not a dependent.

  She could tell herself she’d been lonely when Nicholas came to her room in Santorini. But that wasn’t the only reason she welcomed him. She wasn’t ready to call it love, but whatever she felt for Nicholas was powerful and deep. He was in her heart now. And the thought that Silke had wounded him so cruelly made her angry.

  You want him to be happy.

  The truth about Silke stung. But Nicholas’s shame and pain at being thought ugly was far more troubling. He’d obviously developed some feelings for Silke, or else he wouldn’t have been so incensed by her betrayal.

  Acacia had no right to be angry with him. In judging Nicholas, she’d have to judge herself. They’d both hidden and tried to find human connection while preserving secrets.

  She fixed her makeup and combed her hair before exiting the ladies’ room.

  Kurt reached for her elbow. “Are you all right?”

  His evident concern touched her. “I’m all right. Thank you.”

  “If you’re ill, I can take you home. I’ll tell Rick.”

  “No, I’m going to finish dinner. Thank you, Kurt.”

  He stood aside and shadowed her back to the dining room.

  Nicholas moved to his feet as soon as he caught sight of her. His mouth and jaw were tight.

  He came around the edge of the table to pull out her chair, waving the waiter aside.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders as she sat and bent toward her ear. “I wasn’t sure you were coming back.”

  “I needed a minute.” She replaced her napkin in her lap.

  Nicholas sat across from her. He waited while the waiter took away their plates and served the next course, a stuffed zucchini.

  “It’s a shameful thing,” he said in a low voice. “Much as I’d like to pretend otherwise, she was a hired companion. It’s embarrassing and humiliating. Imagine what my parents would say, if they found out.”

  Acacia slid her hand across the table. “Nicholas.”

  He took her hand, but didn’t lift his eyes. “My previous relationships were normal. Nevertheless, I assure you that I always wore condoms with Silke. And I’m tested regularly.”

  Acacia wound their fingers together. “I believe you.”

  He lifted his head. His dark eyes were filled with regret. “I would never put you at risk.”

  “I know that.” She swallowed. “That isn’t what upset me.”

  “If I could do it over, I would.”

  Acacia nodded. “I can’t help being jealous.”

  “Jealous?” His tone was incredulous.

  “Whatever else she is, Silke is very beautiful.”

  “I never had a moment of levity with her. She didn’t make me laugh or tell me I needed better friends. She was indifferent to art but extremely interested in valuable, costly things. I was foolish to get involved with her at all, and even more foolish to sleep with her.”

  Acacia lifted Nicholas’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “She doesn’t appreciate beauty; that much is true.”

  “No one has called me beautiful in some time.”

  “You need new friends.”

  Nicholas threw his head back and laughed. Other patrons once again turned their heads toward the sound.

  “Why is it, ma petite, that you have this ability to make me laugh just when I want to smash something?”

  “You should laugh more. Your eyes brighten, and your face crinkles. I love hearing you laugh.”

  “Then I shall endeavor to laugh more,” he vowed. “I’m sorry to have sullied our beautiful evening with confessions of my frailty.”

  “Although the story is unpleasant, I’m glad you told me.”

  “I’m grateful you didn’t walk out on me forever.” His gaze deepened in intensity.

  “I’m sorry you’ve experienced so much hurt because of your scar. You’re handsome, Nicholas, with the scar and without it. You don’t have to wear the prosthetic. Not with me.”

  “You mean it,” he murmured.

  “Of course. You have to know how much I care for you. All of you.”

  His smile was dazzling.

  “But Nicholas, this reinforces what I was saying earlier about finding my own way and not being dependent on you.”

  His smile faded. “Our relationship is entirely different.”

  “Which is why I need my independence.” She drew a deep breath. “I
checked my bank statement today. I can’t accept the money you transferred as a consulting fee.”

  He smiled at her wistfully. “Somehow I knew this conversation was coming. Would it help if I told you that sums like that are transferred every day to contacts of mine around the world?”

  “No, it wouldn’t.”

  “I know better than to argue, especially after what I’ve just revealed.” He scratched his jaw. “I don’t suppose you’d consider it a loan, just until you find another job?”

  “No.” She sighed. “And there’s something else. I received an EU Blue Card in the mail today.”

  Nicholas rubbed the back of his neck. “As soon as you agreed to work for me, I instructed the Paris office to file the paperwork. As you know, I have friends in the French government. Obviously, they did me a favor.”

  “I’m in a difficult position. I don’t want to be deported. I love my apartment and my friends, and I don’t want to be separated from you.”

  Nicholas nodded. “But?”

  “I don’t want to accept it, but I feel like I have to. So I owe you.” Acacia wore a strained look.

  “When they applied for it, I didn’t know about your past. I can understand you don’t want to do anything to jeopardize your residency or to invite scrutiny. All I can do is apologize.” His expression was sincere.

  “I hope there will come a time when I can do a great kindness for you.”

  “You already have.” His voice grew thick.

  She scored a pattern on the surface of the linen tablecloth with the tines of her fork. “To summarize, I’m going to return the commission to you, but I’m going to accept the Blue Card—with the hope that someday I can do something grand for you. The only thing that remains is for me to find a new job. And I need to do that on my own.”

  He studied the skyline for a moment. “I’d like to see you work in the art world, on your own terms.”

  “I became a concierge partially to hide.”

  Nicholas turned to her. “How so?”

  “People who work in hospitality tend to be invisible. We work long hours in service, and many guests don’t even bother to learn our names. I think of it as hiding in plain sight.”

  “I never thought of it like that.” Nicholas frowned.

  “I told you about the kidnap attempt in Brazil when I was a teenager. After that, we fled to Recife. A year later, my mother sent me here on a study abroad program. I worked hard on my French, and after I returned to Brazil and finished my schooling, I came to the Sorbonne. Paris was a good place to hide, we thought. Hospitality was even better. But I always intended to work in the art world. I was waiting until more time had passed.”

  “Don’t put it off any longer, Acacia. You should ask Madame Bishop to help you find employment in a gallery. I won’t interfere, I promise.”

  Acacia smiled. “All right.”

  “Good.” Nicholas lifted her hand. With his eyes on hers, he pressed his mouth to her palm. “I knew when you reported me to the BRB you were an amazing woman.”

  Acacia closed her eyes and grimaced.

  Nicholas chuckled. “You have to admit, it’s a very funny story.”

  She opened her eyes. “I never thought of the BRB as a group of matchmakers. I suppose I’m lucky.”

  “I’m the lucky one. You’re intelligent and attractive. You’re incredibly gifted, and yet you’re jealous of Silke for my affections.”

  Acacia squeezed his hand. “I’m angry at how she treated you. I don’t care if she is a spy, she’d better stay far away from me.”

  Something pulled at the edges of Nicholas’s lips. “Or what?”

  “I’d give her a lecture on true beauty. I’d tell her to grow up and look inward before her interior ugliness defaced the rest of her. I’d trip her as she walked by.”

  Nicholas sat back in his chair.

  Acacia frowned. “Too much?”

  He grinned. “Never.”

  She lifted her fork. “Now that we’ve had our serious conversation, I propose we enjoy the rest of our dinner and the fantastic view.”

  “Your wish, your pleasure,” he whispered.

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  AFTER DINNER, NICHOLAS AND ACACIA retired to her apartment, while Rick and Kurt’s overnight replacements guarded the hallway.

  After such an intense evening, Acacia was desperate for him. But Nicholas took his time lighting candles around the studio to the music of Anne Ducros.

  “Where’s the cat?” he asked.

  “Hiding in the bathroom.”

  “Finally, we have privacy.” Nicholas smiled and assisted Acacia in transforming the day bed to a queen-sized bed.

  She removed a pair of pillows from her reorganized closet. “The look on your face when you saw the bed this morning was priceless.”

  “I know my mother likes you. I know she likes us together. I couldn’t believe she’d sabotage me by incorporating a single bed in her design.”

  Acacia laughed.

  He removed his suit jacket and hung it on a chair. Just like that, the mood in the room shifted.

  Acacia watched, mesmerized, as he slowly unfastened his tie and placed it over his jacket. He gazed at her while he unbuttoned his white dress shirt and removed the cufflinks, setting them on her nightstand.

  He took her hand. “You are my reward.” He kissed her fingers, one by one.

  “I’m a reward that comes with a tremendous amount of baggage. But I care for you.”

  “That’s all I ask.” He touched her face with both hands, lowering his mouth to hers.

  When their lips touched, the energy between them sparked. Nicholas tugged her lower lip into his mouth and drew on it.

  His thumbs passed over her cheeks, and Acacia leaned into him. He released her lower lip and angled his head, smoothing his mouth across hers.

  Her arms lifted to clasp around his neck. She brought their bodies together, sighing into his mouth.

  His tongue slid against hers, and she tasted cinnamon.

  “You don’t have to hide yourself.” Acacia reached a tentative hand to his prosthetic.

  He caught her hand. “It doesn’t repulse you?”

  “It troubles me because I know someone hurt you. Others continued to hurt you because of it. But it’s part of you the way my scar is part of me. It’s evidence of your strength. Your courage.”

  He kissed her hand and turned around.

  She was about to call him back when she realized what he was doing. He’d positioned himself in front of the mirror that hung near the front door.

  She gave him privacy by fussing with the pillows.

  A minute later, his hands were on her shoulders.

  She turned. His eyes were cautious.

  She touched her lips to his scar. “I’m not hiding from you. You know who I am and who my father is. You know I accept you as you are.”

  He took her mouth fiercely. Then he unzipped her dress and watched it fall to the floor. “It was a lovely dress.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.” Gingerly, she held onto his shoulder as she took off her heels.

  He caressed her neck and nudged her bra strap aside to taste her skin. He plied kiss after kiss across her collarbone.

  “I love your curves.” His hands covered her breasts, over her black lace bra.

  “Good. I like to eat, so despite the time spent at the dojo, I’ll always be curvy.”

  He pulled the cups of her bra down. Then with murmured appreciation, he bent to take one of her nipples in his mouth. He teased the other with his thumb.

  She fanned a hand against his neck, urging him on. She kissed the shell of his ear and nibbled at it with the edge of her teeth.

  With a growl, he released her. He tugged his shirt out of his tro
users and threw it aside. He stepped out of his pants, and his belt buckle clanged against the floor.

  They came together again with urgent kisses. Nicholas’s hands slid to her backside and he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his hips.

  He carried her to the bed and looked down at her with longing.

  “I delight in you,” he whispered. “What you say, your laughter, the way you speak.”

  He rested his hand on her abdomen. She felt her insides flutter.

  “Come here.” She tugged his arm, pulling him atop her. “I like your weight.”

  “That’s good.” He chuckled, bracing his forearms on either side of her shoulders. “Because I like how my body feels against yours.”

  She parted her legs, and his hips nestled between them.

  His fingers quested the catch to her bra and unfastened it, dragging it over her heated skin.

  “You’re lovely in everything.” He dropped the bra to the floor. “But you have a beautiful body. Look how your skin glows in the candlelight.”

  He blew across her nipples and watched them constrict. He teased them, catching them between his thumb and his forefinger. Pleasurable sensations shot across her body, increasing her desire for him.

  She didn’t want to be selfish. She traced the ridges of his abdomen above the waistband of his dark blue boxer briefs.

  He pushed himself against her hand, and she stroked him firmly.

  “Delicious.” He licked her breast and transferred his attention to her nipple.

  She reached around him to push his underwear over his hips.

  It took a moment for him to free himself. Then he sheathed himself with a condom and moved between her legs.

  He caressed the curves of her cheeks, his gaze watchful and serious.

  “Aren’t you happy?” Her finger traced his dark brows.

  “Happy to be with you, of course. But I’m afraid I’m out of practice at being happy, mon amour.”

  Her hand rested on his backside and she pressed, nestling him more tightly between her legs. “Do you feel this?”

  “Yes.” His expression brightened.

  “We create something together we don’t have apart.”

  “That makes me happy.” His mouth slid against hers, and his tongue dipped inside.