She wanted to say something, but she really didn't know what.

"Michel, I..."


He shook his head, which immediately brought her to a halt because the look on his face showed that he was still confused about the whole situation.

So instead of talking about what just happened, he just gently placed a hand on her small back and led her toward one of his couches, making her sit down and do the same thing right next to her.

They sat across from each other, saying nothing for a moment as Michel just took her little hand in his, stroking his thumb over her knuckles.


When she looked up at him and he looked at her too, they ended up just leaning in, joining their lips once more, melting into the kiss.

They don't want to face reality yet.


Michel is particularly reluctant to discuss what all this means to him, how this will affect his life, and, of course, hers.

And so is Fanny.

At that moment, she refused to let anything take over the feeling that his lips on hers were bringing her happiness.

Her body sank into his as if she had finally given up resisting, she allowed Michel to wrap her arms around her, holding her tight against his as he began to leave a moist red mark along her jaw and neck, down her collarbone and back, his chin resting on her shoulder as he closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

Fanny's little fingers played with the hair on the back of his neck, her fingertips stroking him.

It was too early to say anything, but Fanny knew. She simply knew that she was in love with him.

She knows that he is a confusing, irritable, resentful man.

That he's spoiled and used to things going his way.

She knew he was dangerous and most likely took someone's life.

That all these factors would frighten her.

So that...

However, she still loves him.

Despite herself, a single tear slipped from one eye as she bit down on her lower lip, Michel was speechless and kissed it.

He knows that whatever he's feeling, whatever it is - and he's not ready to admit to himself what it is - he knows he won't be able to keep her forever.

At some point, reality will catch up with him and make him understand that he has obligations to follow, including protecting his family and marrying Farrah.

But as he sat there, with this girl looking at him with innocent eyes like he was the only thing that mattered in her world, he couldn't help but want to forget all of it.

Even if it will only be for a moment.

Fanny's heart started pounding in his chest at the expression on his face.

Somehow, those feelings were suddenly unreadable to her.

It was as if a mask had suddenly been pulled over his face and obscured her vision that was so clear a second ago.

Michel let go of her, slowly releasing his arm from around her.

Instead, he crouched down and began to pull off his shoes and socks, as if he were settling into the night.

Oxygen growled in her lungs, but he stopped there and made no move to undress further. His feet were big and manly and sexy, and Fanny knew at that moment she was far, far beyond her element.

When she comes to the party tonight, never in a million years has she dreamed that the things that have happened could happen.

Never.

Her heartbeat stopped before it picked up too fast as he leaned over and pulled off her black heels, tossing them on the floor beside his.

Thank God Audrey made her paint her toes in a light pink, she shifted her seat as he lifted one leg and examined it, turning the couch to face her better.

"Beautiful colors..." Michel whispered, voice low.

Her gaze was fixed on his hand grazing her ankle, stroking a streak on her leg.

"You are teasing me?" She asked.

One of his hands left her ankle and slid up her cheek, where he stroked it with his finger. His eyes sparkled down her lips with an intensity that sent heat and desire shooting through her.

"You think I'm teasing you?" When he asked that question, in a deep, hot voice, his fingers brushed her cheek and slid into her hair, touching her ear.

His gaze swallowed her, not letting her cut off contact.

Her heart pounded hard in her chest.

"Are not." She whispered. His fingers tickled her ears, slowly touching hers.

"And you're right. I'm not." His words were slow and hoarse, and Fanny felt his chest moving toward hers adding a tantalizing inch.

"So if I'm not teasing you, what do you think I'm doing?" His voice was deadly low, almost wild, and Fanny was almost completely helpless against the raw danger that emanated from that question.

"I do not know." She mumbled, trying to get her words out through the sudden gasps of breaths she was taking in.

He released her ankle completely as his eyes fell on her chest.

Slowly, he lifted his hand to her shoulder, and with every move, he made a deliberate, purposeful caress. He ran his palm across the center of her breasts, above her breasts, and his fingers began to deliberately play with the lace on her dress, pulling it down with one finger, stripping the material. out of her skin to get a glimpse of what she's hiding.

His gaze moved slowly away from her breasts, his gaze shifted to her lips, then he finally returned to looking at her passionately.

There was a hot air that appeared between them as their gazes collided and held.

His fingers left her opening, and his hand slid to the right side of her chest, still not touching hers, but so close that Fanny's lungs froze in panicked anticipation.