Page 23 of Daring Wicked Love (Wicked Dade #2)

Nice was too beautiful a city to spend the day hiding out in my bedroom.

Florence arrived early the morning after our arrival and whisked Penelope away for the day, leaving me jobless.

Not that I minded too much. After all, I was in one of the most beautiful parts of the world. The South of France was on my bucket list of places to visit before dying. The only problem was that I was here with the one man who confused me more than a game of blindfolded chess.

I meant what I said to Frederic on the flight. We needed to establish and stick to the boundaries of our working relationship.

There was no room for whatever weird feelings bloomed to life around him, not when his moods changed quicker than the summer weather in Ireland.

Whatever was going on in Frederic’s life was too messy for me to be added into the middle of it. I didn’t want to complicate things more for him, and although he would never admit it, whatever happened between him and his ex-wife had properly screwed him up.

It didn’t take a therapist to see he had major trust and abandonment issues.

I was once like him, too.

All the shit that happened with my father and sister turned me into such a volatile person for a period in my life. I refused to talk to therapists, I refused medication, and I wrapped myself up within myself so damn tightly that it was by some miracle I didn’t implode.

It was only through the power of art therapy that I was able to work my way through it.

If he wanted any chance of happiness or letting anyone else into his life, Frederic needed to do the same.

He needed to see that he was worthy of happiness.

Putting on my favorite daisy-imprinted dress, I slipped out of the villa via the back door and followed the private path directly down to the beach.

A day to myself was exactly what I needed, and the ocean was calling out to me.

Except as I stepped onto the pebbled beach, my eyes were drawn straight to the man coming out of the crystal blue water.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Water trickled down his defined chest, his strong legs flexing as he walked across the pebbles, strands of wet hair stuck to his forehead, and those damn swimming shorts left little to the imagination.

I mean I could see the outline of his thick cock, the soaking material practically clinging to every inch and rendering me motionless.

The fresh memory of him, rock hard and throbbing against my stomach, sent a rush of unforgiving heat between my legs.

Nope, nope, nope. Bad thoughts, very bad thoughts.

I really needed to figure out a way to squash out any bit of attraction I had for him. Maybe when we got back home, it was about time I took the plunge and tried out an online dating app.

“ Bonjour, Miss Connell.”

His use of my formal name was a match against my skin each time, but I refused to let him see how much it irritated me.

If he wanted to act like a petty man-child, so be it.

I was rising above it all.

“Good morning,” I chirped. “How was your swim?”

He ran two hands through his dripping hair, sending droplets cascading down his throat and stealing the moisture from my mouth. “Revitalizing.” A boyish smirk played on his lips. “My eyes are up here, Pixie.”

Shit.

After my speech about keeping things professional, being caught drinking in the sight of him wasn’t exactly ideal.

It was hardly my fault when he looked lethally fuckable soaking wet.

I quickly pulled my sunglasses down from my head to cover my eyes, despite the fact that the damage was already done.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. You can look all you want,” he taunted. “Just try not to drool on yourself too much and ruin that pretty dress.”

There were certainly other ways I’d like to ruin my dress.

We’ve been over this. He’s my boss. Nothing more, nothing less.

The tips of my ears flamed to life as I rasped. “You think an awful lot about yourself, Mr. Dade. ”

“Only when a certain beautiful woman openly eye-fucks me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’d hate to be the reason for your inflated ego.”

He tipped his head back and laughed, and God damn it all to hell, I loved that rare sound. I wished he did it more often, much like I wished for the worry lines around his eyes to soften, and for the weight on his shoulders to finally lift and allow him to smile more.

He grabbed a towel from a nearby bag. “What’s your plans now that my Grand-mère has stolen Penelope away for the day?”

“A day here on the beach, followed by an afternoon nap. Maybe a few glasses of some French wine to sweeten the whole day.”

“Riveting.”

I tucked a stray strand of hair back into my ponytail. “Technically, I am on holiday right now, and when people are on holiday, they relax.”

Grabbing a white T-shirt, he pulled it over his head and robbed me of one of the best sights in Nice. “If you aren’t too busy and can take a break from your hectic schedule, I have something I’d like to show you today.”

“And what exactly is that?”

“It’s a surprise.” He strapped on his watch and checked the time. “We can take the rental car and be there in twenty minutes. Don’t want to leave too late, or we won’t be able to do everything I have planned.”

“I don’t think us spending time alone is such a good idea…”

His throat bobbed, fingers fiddling with his platinum ring. “I know we already went over what happened, and I understand why you don’t wish for us to be friends, but I’ve been thinking…”

“That’s a dangerous thing.”

“I want to make it up to you. I want to show you that as fucked as I am, I’d like to be your friend, Orla.”

Friends.

Copper coated my tongue as I chewed the chapped piece of skin from my lip.

“I don’t know…”

His brows knitted together. “Just one chance, please.”

Every part of me screamed to go back to the villa and lock myself in the bedroom, safe away from him.

But there was a little voice, deep in the depths of my heart, that told me to trust him, to put faith in the man beneath the harsh exterior.

“Okay,” I said, silencing all rationality. “I guess I can take time out of my busy schedule for you.”

The smile that broke across his face was the very reason why I should have walked away, because it was very easy to imagine falling headfirst in love with the man who smiled at me like that.

If I hadn’t already forgiven Frederic before, his surprise trip to the local art market would have done the trick ten times over.

This version of him, the one who opened my car door and practically dragged me to the entrance of the market with pure boyish glee, made it impossible to stay even remotely angry at him.

Hiding between the market stalls from the blistering early afternoon sun, I lost myself in the various types of artwork on display. Watercolor, to charcoal, to a local artist who only used things washed up on the beach, it was all soul-enriching.

It was the perfect distraction from the man whose smile only grew each time I excitedly pointed to a new stall, as my mind struggled to comprehend how one man could be so sweet, so caring and thoughtful, and yet so closed off the second I got too close.

Talking to one of the many artists about the way she refused to use anything except the tips of her own fingers and crushed flower petals to create her pieces, Frederic remained right at my side, translating for me whenever I needed.

My French was getting better. Penelope had been teaching me a few things, and I may have downloaded an app to assist me, but I didn’t tell Frederic that.

Because, not so secretly, I enjoyed watching him talk in his native tongue.

He was so natural, so at ease.

It warmed me from the bottom of my feet to the top of my scalp, exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I told myself to stop letting him pull me in, because he only proved time and time again that he was incapable of doing anything except pushing me away.

But when he left me to mull over some new paint brushes and reappeared with two ice cream cones in his hands, the stupid, traitorous butterflies in my stomach did a full Olympic gymnastics routine.

As we walked out of the busy market, I didn’t move away as he rested a hand on my lower back and guided us toward a nearby quieter street.

“Now we are alone, there is something serious we need to discuss,” I said.

He froze.

“I’m not sure how to say this to you.”

His hand clenched on my back, bunching the material of my dress tightly in his grip.

“It’s about your ice cream choice.” I shook my head with a smirk. “You realize that bubble-gum flavor only exists for all those under the age of ten?”

He didn’t bother trying to hide his crooked smile. “I didn’t realize ice cream flavors came with an age restriction.”

“There are so many good flavors out there. Chocolate, salted caramel, pistachio. I’d have even seen past it if you picked plain old vanilla, but instead, you went for that . Insanity.”

“Forgive me, I didn’t realize I was in the presence of an ice cream connoisseur.”

“I take these things very seriously.” I failed to keep myself from laughing. “Gee whizz, I’m not sure how I feel about being friends with someone who picks blue bubble-gum ice cream.”

He took a long, agonizingly slow lick from his cone that sent a ripple straight down into my core as he hummed in delight. “Second-best tasting thing in the world.”

“What’s the first?”

His blue eyes darkened as they found mine. My pulse broke into a full gallop as his gaze slowly tracked down to my lips, his grip on my back tightening. “Unfortunately, I haven’t gotten the chance to taste it yet, but I can only daydream about how délicieux it is.”

Breath caught in my lungs.

He wanted to be friends — but friends didn’t look at each other the way he was looking at me.

Clearing my throat, I attempted to step away. “We should get back to the car. Pen will be back soon.”

“Right after our last stop.” Frederic blinked whatever lingering desire he could away. “I want to show you one more thing before we leave.”

He slipped back into comfortable ease as he guided us through the busy streets to our next stop.

We didn’t speak until we arrived. Not that I minded. I was too preoccupied taking in the sights of the city, all whilst ignoring the unrelenting tightness in my stomach and the full-scale war of conflicting emotions battling in my mind.

The only issue was that as we walked up a twisting path, those damn butterflies in my stomach refused to ease as my eyes settled on the sign in front of us.

“When I bought the villa, I was going through a bit of a tough time and needed somewhere…anywhere to clear my head. To just stop thinking for a couple hours.” He opened the gate for me. “That’s when I discovered this place. It quickly became my favorite place to visit whenever I came here.”

Flowers of every color, chirps of birds, the sprinkles of a nearby water feature, and the soft beats of vibrant little birds passing by greeted the pair of us.

In the distance, I could see the dome shape of a large glass greenhouse.

Shiiiiit.

My heart didn’t stand a freaking chance. Frederic had brought me to a botanical garden.

I couldn’t speak, my mind trying to process the beauty in front of me, and if his hand weren’t still on my back pushing me forward, I would have been rooted at the entrance forever.

We followed a path that led us to a bench perched beneath a blossoming plum tree, surrounded by a sea of vibrant wildflowers.

Careful not to sit too close to him or to lean back into the arm he draped across the back of the bench, I basked in the hanging afternoon sun while trying to take in everything in front of me.

The tips of my fingers tingled, the rush to capture the moment the best way I knew how consumed me. If only I had my sketch pad — the place was just as stunning, if not more so, than the gardens in Monarch.

“It’s beautiful,” I said once I trusted the sound of my heart not to escape through my mouth. “Actually, scratch that, I don’t think beautiful is a strong enough word to describe this.”

“There’s no words in any vocabulary that can describe how utterly breathtaking this view is.”

My stomach fell into a free fall when I turned and found him focused on me.

Abandoning all rationality, I leaned back into his touch. “I can see why it’s your favorite.”

His fingertips brushed the nape of my neck. “Honestly? I love botanical gardens. They’re a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. I enjoy the sérénité , the solitude they offer. They help turn my mind off for a brief moment in time.”

“Your perfect safe haven.”

“Exactly,” he said as the corners of his lips turned upward. “Don’t tell anyone, but one of my favorite gardens back home is a secret.”

I swallowed against the dryness wedging my throat.

“It’s a hidden gem in the Monarch club. None of the current members are aware it even exists, never bothering to search the grounds past the golf course. But I stumbled across it a couple years back. It’s my havre de paix .”

Oh, sweet lord, was that my heartbeat I could hear?

Frederic smiled. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to visit it, life sort of got in the way. But maybe I could take you with me when we get home...if you’d like?”

Unable to trust myself to say a single word, I simply nodded, causing Frederic’s smile to morph into a full-blown grin.

Because at that moment, I knew I didn’t want to be friends with him.

I wanted so much more than I knew he’d ever be able to give me.

Shiitting shiiiiit, I was hopelessly screwed.