Page 58 of Closer

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

THE BLACK PEARL

ONE WEEK LATER

LEVI

The sounds ofLe Vie En Rosefilter down the stairs to my room. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Mon Dieu! Make it stop,” Brie groans from behind her eye mask.

“Every goddam morning.” I throw back the sheet and I’m met with Brie’s body wrapped in black silk. I slide my palm over her hip, kneading her flesh with hungry hands. “Hey, since we’re awake. Why don’t you—”

“Non.” She pulls her eye mask away from her face so I can see she means business with her “fuck no” glare. She slams the silk back in place and rolls over.

“Okay, guess that’s the end of that.”

Brie sighs. “Make her stop with the music, and I will have sex with you. I cannot promise I will be awake.”

“Oh, you’ll be awake. I’ll make sure of it.” I jump out of bed. My dick is hard, and almost impossible to ignore, especially when she looks like that, but I am a man on a mission—to get my crazy housekeeper to quit waking me up every day with the same fucking annoying song. I head into the bathroom, piss, and throw on yesterday’s clothes. Climbing upstairs, I walk through the hall, and across to the other wing where Margaux is in full swing. Dog is jumping around her as she mops, messing up her floor with his paw prints, but the woman clearly doesn’t give a damn. She’s lost to the romance in her head.

I squint at the light streaming in through the open windows. “Margaux, what the fuck?”

“Morning, monsieur. Why are you not in bed making love to that beautiful girl?”

I don’t know, cock blocker, you tell me.

“Because that beautiful girl threatened to castrate me if she gets woken up one more time with this song.”

She shakes her head and makes a tutting sound. “You two should be up and seizing the moment while you have time.”

“The only thing Brie is seizing before 10:00 a.m. is my balls. And not in a good way. You gotta stop with this song, Margaux.”

“But this songisFrance. It is passion and undying love, monsieur. You could learn a thing or two from this music, non?” She sets the mop back in her bucket and disappears into the service room, discarding the dirty water. “But now that monsieur is up, and mademoiselle is still sleeping the day away, why not accompany me into the village? I could use some big, strong shoulders like yours.”

“For what?”

“For a piece of furniture that is my own.”

I scrub a hand over my face because it is way too early for this shit. “What?”

“I have spotted a chair for sale, a chair I want. A chair I cannot possibly carry myself.”

“You want me to lift a chair?”

“Oui,monsieur, you catch on quick,” she deadpans.

“Don’t they have people at the store who can do that for you?”

“It is a flea market, not a store.”

“Whatever. Fine. If it will get you to turn off this goddam music, and Brie to fuck me again, I’ll do it. Let’s go.”

“But monsieur, will you not be recognised?”

“Ah, shit.”

“You will need a costume. Wait here,” she says, and scampers off.