Shiloh and Benoit ate between talking; the food was out of this world, and although she wasn’t drinking, she still felt light-headed and happy. Benoit smiled at her glowing face.
“Pregnancy makes you even more beautiful, my love.”
“Sweet talker,” she said, but she flushed with pleasure. Benoit was more relaxed this evening than usual, and she liked to think it was because she was there.We’re good for each other.
Lingering over coffee, Shiloh looked up to see a beautiful, slightly older brunette touch Benoit’s shoulder. Shiloh recognized her—Marcella. A cloud passed over Benoit’s eyes, but he politely introduced them. He didn’t invite Marcella to join them and, feeling awkward, Shiloh asked her if she would like to have coffee with them.
“You are sweet,ma chére, but I have a date waiting. It is nice to finally meet you; I know Benoit was desolate over your leaving Paris.”
Shiloh noticed Benoit shooting daggers at Marcella. What the hell was going on? Marcella smiled at Shiloh. “Darling, let’s have lunch soon. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about.”
Marcella sashayed off to her table, and Shiloh suddenly felt sick. “Can we go?”
Benoit, grim-faced, nodded. In the car, Shiloh opened the window, letting the cool night air ease her nausea.It could be nothing,she thought,probably morning sickness.But there was a tension in the air that was palpable.
At the apartment, she waited for Benoit to say something. When he didn’t, she told him she was going to bed. “I’ll be in shortly, darling.”
Shiloh changed into her nightgown and slid between the cool cotton sheets. Her chest hurt, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that Benoit was hiding something from her.
When he hadn’t come to bed in an hour, she got up and padded into the living room to find him. She heard him talking on the phone in hushed tones. He was arguing with someone in rapid French. Shiloh stayed out of sight and listened. Whoever was on the other end of the phone—and Shiloh was convinced it was Marcella—was arguing with him as his voice was hard, impatient.
“Non, no, she need never know because it wasnothing.I made a mistake, and you know that … no, no, Marcella. You do not understand. I have found my person, my love. You told me to find her, and I did … because you didn’t want me, Marcella, do you remember that?”
Shiloh leaned her head against the door jamb, tears in her eyes.Damn that woman …Shiloh had to admit she had been jealous of Marcella ever since she’d seen the photographs of Benoit and Marcella in the society pages.The other women fit into that world. Will I ever be that kind of woman for Benoit?
Unconsciously, she rubbed a hand across her belly.No, you’re just the girl stupid enough to get knocked up.
Benoit was still arguing.
“I don’t care, Marcella, not anymore. You will not ruin this for me. Goodbye.”
Shiloh quickly ran back to the bedroom, and when Benoit came in, she pretended to be asleep. Benoit stripped and slid in beside her. “Shiloh? Are you awake?”
Shiloh kept her eyes closed, ignoring his whisper, and when she heard his breathing become regular and even as he slept, only then did she let the tears fall.
Maceo shook his head. “Mio caro, it’s too dangerous for you in New York. I think you must stay here with Alex.”
Ori had been arguing with him for an hour, but he wouldn’t budge. “You’ll only be there for a day. I can stay safe forone day,surely?”
Maceo and Alex looked at each other. Kate Garcia had called them; the DA had dropped the charges, but she wanted Maceo to come back to New York to finalize everything. Ori argued that if she was traveling with him, she couldn’t be in that much danger.
Ori sighed. “Look, both of you, you know this is my decision, right? As much as I love you both, I do have control of my own life, and I’m not willing to give that up. For anyone. I had that taken away too much by Tyson.”
Maceo hugged her. “I get that. I’m sorry.”
She smiled. “Don’t apologize for caring; I’m just saying … yes, there’s a creep threatening me out there, but no way in hell am I going to stop living my life the way I want to.”
Alex, who had been listening, cleared his throat. “I have an idea, if you don’t mind me sharing it.”
Maceo, kissing Ori’s temple, nodded at him. “Go for it.”
“Ori, I have someone who could be of help … not a bodyguard, per se, but an instructor of Krav Maga.”
Ori’s eyebrows shot up, and she nodded. “I’ve heard of that … a martial art?”
Alex smiled. “Kind of a mix of martials, boxing, wrestling, etc. You’re a healthy, athletic—okay,” he grinned as Ori made a face at athletic.' “Youcouldbe athletic. You want more control? This is it. Self-defense.”
“I like that idea very much,” Maceo said, grinning gratefully at his friend, then he turned to Ori, “Bella, would you also allow me to find you a bodyguard? Someone who could be a friend as well as protector?”
