Page 116 of Perfume Girl

“What was that?” asked Damien.

“This is his place.” I pointed to the house.

Damien parked the car in the driveway and made a remark about how Astor clearly had too much wealth and time on his hands. He didn’t know him like me, didn’t know how hard he worked and that he deserved this place more than most people.

I told Damien to wait in the car and then hurried over to the front door. Getting in was easy, since he’d given me access. I merely followed Astor’s instructions and pressed my palm to the entry pad of his high-tech system.

We had something special—had—I reminded myself, because doing this would end whatever sort of relationship we’d begun. Falling for Astor Beauregard was one situation I’d not accounted for. We were complicated and wonderful and confusing and everything I’d not foreseen. I hoped he would forgive me and never once suspect me of stealing any of his formulas. That level of betrayal would leave lasting damage.

I wondered if Astor had found my parting gift of that unique cologne he’d asked me to create. If nothing else he’d believe hiring me had been worth it if only for these last few weeks of delivering something special in the way of a cologne he could be proud of.

A wave of guilt washed over me as I thought of that bottle of Orris bulb oil in the bottom of my handbag I’d taken from his lab. I placated myself with the fact it could serve as payment for the cologne I’d created for him.

Being back in Astor’s home brought fond memories even in the short time I had stayed here, from the meals we’d cooked together to that near tragedy where he had saved my life. And the sex, of course, which was the best I’d ever had.

Don’t think of that now. Don’t think of all those nights of love-making that made your toes curl and your heart open.

This man wasn’t ruthless. He was kind even if he had his own demons to fight. During the days we’d spent together I had seen another side to him, a side he seemed to hide from everyone else.

I had to pack quickly.

Hurrying up the winding staircase and along the hallway, I made my way toward Astor’s bedroom and paused for a moment staring at the ruffled bed. So many pleasures beneath those sheets… We’d had a remarkable closeness neither of us could deny.

Forgive me.

Dragging my empty suitcase onto the bed, I flung it open, throwing my clothes inside and then scooping up my shoes. I quickly gathered my toiletries from the bathroom and tossed them into the suitcase, too.

When my phone rang, I rummaged through my handbag ready to tell Damien I needed another five minutes.

“Raquel?”

My heart skipped a beat. “Astor?” I said softly, closing my eyes in response to his voice on the line.

“Tell me you’re okay,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

“Have you left The House of Beauregard permanently?”

I hesitated. “Did you find the cologne?”

“Yes, it’s fantastic. Let’s talk about it.”

“I can’t.”

“Are you going to sue me for sexual harassment, Raquel?”

“No,” I burst out. “Every moment with you was with my consent. I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

“Even what we did earlier?”

“Yes.”

“I meant in the storeroom.”

“I know.”

“Did I hurt you? Or scare you?”