Daisy
“You have maids in Paris too?” I ask as I wake up from my nap to find a woman cooking in Ronan’s kitchen. He’s drinking a glass of what I assume is bourbon as he sits in the oversized leather chair in the living room.
“They’re called employees, not maids. And no. She works for a friend. I’m paying her well and feeding you at the same time.” He looks up from the book in his hand. I’m pleased to find a touch of warmth in his expression, which means he’s not still mad at me. “Any more questions?” he asks with a smirk.
I bite my bottom lip. “Can I go to the club with you?”
He lets out a groan and his smirk disappears as his eyes trail back down to the book. “No.”
Dammit. Crossing the room with a frown, I lean against the arm of his chair. He sets the book down and I watch his eyes graze the bare skin of my thighs and scan their way up to my face. Then he pats his leg like an invitation, and I find myself climbing into his lap.
Nothing like the plane incident, where he was shoving his erection into my hip to prove a point. This is far more innocent. I’m done trying to manipulate him and force his hand. Besides, I like this. Being able to nuzzle into his chest, my face close to his neck, so I can breathe in his cologne, his broad arms around me, holding me close.
“I’ll be good,” I reply quietly. “I’ll stay by you the whole time. I won’t talk to anyone. I just want to see it and I don’t want to be here alone.”
His head rests against mine as he strokes my arm, but he doesn’t answer. And it guts to me to have to ask this because I’m terrified of the answer.
“Is it because you want to be with…someone else there?”
He pulls his head back and looks down at me. “Absolutely not.”
“So, take me with you.”
We sit in silence for a while as he contemplates before finally replying with a groan. “Fine, but there are going to be rules, Daisy. I know you work in a sex club, but this isn’t Salacious. And you won’t be there as a drink server, you’ll be there as a patron.”
Inside, I’m practically screaming. A shudder of excitement is growing deep in my bones. Just the thought of being on his arm all night, and seeing God knows what, I almost can’t believe it.
“Are you happy now?” he asks as he picks his book back up.
“Yes, Ronan. Thank you,” I reply with a smile.
“You’re welcome, Daisy.”
I rest my head back on his chest. “Will you read to me while we wait for dinner?”
His hand strokes my back gently as he reads. It’s something about the history of France during the war. I’m not paying much attention to the words but letting the deep timbre of his voice soothe me as I daydream about all of the possibilities that tonight could bring.
The driver stops in front of an old building in a somewhat touristy part of town. When we get out, my long dress nearly touches the cobblestones, and Ronan is there in a heartbeat, putting his hand on the small of my back like he always does.
“It’s here?” I ask, looking around at the people passing by. There are restaurants and night clubs lining the street, but nothing that looks like a sex club.
“This way,” he replies, guiding me down a narrow side street. When we reach an old bar that looks more like a speakeasy type of jazz bar than a sex club, I stare at him in confusion. Without answering my questioning gaze, he just presses me into the club and guides me around the crowd, until we reach the back, where an elevator waits for us. There’s a man guarding the elevator, and Ronan simply says, “I’m meeting Matis.”
The man in the suit nods before pressing a button, and the elevator opens. Ronan ushers me inside and keeps me close to him as the doors close.
“Who’s Matis?” I ask.
“The owner,” he replies without inflection.
“How do you know him?”
He glances toward me, a quirk in his brow. “Business.”
Now it’s my turn to look confused. “What kind of business do you have with a sex club owner? Don’t you work with like mega-billion-dollar corporations or something?”
He chuckles to himself. “I own a portion of this club, Daisy. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
My lips part as I stare at him in shock. Of course he owns part of a sex club. He probably has his money in everything. Is there anything he doesn’t own?
Without warning, he turns me toward him, lifting my chin again. “You will stay next to me the entire time, understand?”
I bite my lip to keep from smiling as I nod. “Yes, sir.”
His nostrils flare as he lets out a low noise that sounds like a growl. “I can’t even say sir?” I ask.
Ignoring my question, he continues.
“There aren’t as many boundaries here like you’re used to at Salacious.”
“What does that mean?”
His grip on my back tightens and he pulls me closer. “It means that just because you’re seen with me, it doesn’t mean people won’t try to proposition you.”
A playful smirk pulls at the corner of my lips. “And what should I say if they do?”
A sour, dark sort of expression transforms his features, as he lets go of my back and moves a hand to my face, cupping my jaw. My head tilts back more as I stare up into his eyes. “You tell them your daddy said no.”
“Oh, so you can call yourself my daddy, but I can’t say it?” I ask in a teasing tone.
As the elevator chimes and the doors open, he turns away from me and adjusts the sleeve of his suit. “Yes, Daisy.”
I’m still smiling as he leads the way out of the elevator and onto the club floor. Nothing like the loud but chill aesthetic upstairs, this club is energetic and alive with music and dancing.
The partitioned dance floor is dark and crowded, bodies gyrating and groping one another to the rhythm of the music. Everything about this club has an old art deco sort of vibe, and it reminds me of something out of The Great Gatsby or Moulin Rouge.
On the wall, in a large neon cursive sign, is the word L’Amour, which I assume is the name of the club. While I’m too busy staring at the sign, I nearly miss the shadows and silhouettes of the people moving on the dance floor, who are definitely getting it on, VIP style.
My cheeks heat with a blush as I look back at Ronan, who’s watching me with a mischievous smirk.
“Okay, so it’s not that different than Salacious,” he says in a low, ominous mutter.
I follow him around the large room until we reach some round tables along the back wall of the club. These are clearly meant for important clientele and owners. It’s when we reach the second table that a man takes one look at Ronan and lights up with excitement.
“Monsieur Kade!” he shouts with a thick French accent.
Ronan smiles at the man, who is completely surrounded by women that he can’t even stand from the booth he’s in. Instead, Ronan reaches out a hand and the man shakes it emphatically.
“Matis, good to see you again,” he replies before turning toward me. “This is my friend, Daisy,” he adds, and I’m so caught up on the word friend that I’m staring at Ronan too long before reaching out a hand toward Matis.
“Lovely to meet you, Daisy,” the man says, holding my gaze as he presses his lips to my knuckles.
He’s very handsome and surprisingly a lot younger than Ronan—maybe in his thirties. He has shoulder-length black hair that is slicked back and curled behind his ears, with a chiseled jawline and sharp cheekbones.
When he doesn’t let go of my hand, I feel Ronan’s touch on my hip, pulling me back toward him, and I remember what he said about people in this club neglecting relationship boundaries.
Why does that idea suddenly excite me?
“Champagne!” Matis yells as one of the servers passes by his table. She nods her head at him before scurrying off toward the bar.
It takes some shuffling of seats, but soon, Ronan and I are sitting in the round booth with Matis and a few of his friends. Except, as we were arranging ourselves in the seats, somehow, I ended up next to Matis with two people between me and Ronan, who is currently flanked by two stunning women.
And just like that, I’m the one feeling territorial.
Matis puts his arm around me. “Is this your first time in a sex club, little flower?”
My lips tighten in a tense smile. “I work in a sex club,” I reply, turning toward him. His eyes widen as he glances back at Ronan.
“Are you a performer?” he asks, and I break out in a laugh.
“I’m a server.”
He reaches out a hand and strokes my hair out of my face, looking into my eyes as he murmurs, “You could be a performer. Such a sweet little flower.”
I’m practically in a trance, staring at him as he caresses my hair. There are conversations happening around us, but for just a moment, it feels like it’s only the two of us. Then I sense a pair of serious brown eyes laser-focused on our every move.
When I glance toward Ronan, I have to admire how collected he appears to be. Reclining in the seat, one arm resting on the back of it and one leg folded over the other. His body language says unbothered, but I know his face well enough by now to know that if Ronan is not smiling then he’s angry.
Well, actually, I don’t know if angry is the right word to describe it. It’s more like he’s…unsettled. Wired. On edge. If he didn’t want Matis touching me or talking to me, he’d be hauling me out of here over his shoulder. I’ve learned that much about him.
But he’s not yanking me out of my seat, and his friend hasn’t taken his hands off of me since I sat down. So either Ronan really doesn’t want to upset his business partner, or he’s okay with me being fondled by a stranger—a stranger to me, at least.
“So, what do you think of Paris so far, little flower?” Matis asks.
I turn toward him, biting my bottom lip and tasting the shimmery pink lip gloss. “I love it.”
“Has he taken you to the Eiffel Tower yet?”
“Not yet,” I reply, glancing toward Ronan with a playful glare. “But he promised to.”
“Make him,” Matis says with sincerity. “It’s the most romantic city in the world. A perfect place to fall in love.”
My breath catches in my chest as I stare at Matis, those words feeling heavy and frightening.
When he says it like that, it sounds both exhilarating and terrifying. Life-changing and traumatic.
Perhaps because I know I’d fall first. Maybe I already am. Which is insane, when I remember how far apart we are in age. I’d be far more excited about falling for him if I wasn’t harboring a secret about Ronan that will shatter it all.
I’m building a house of cards around my heart, and when he learns the truth, it will all fall apart.
“Don’t look so frightened,” Matis whispers, leaning in closer. “You’ve never been in love before, have you?”
I shake my head, gazing up into his eyes.
“I’ve known Mr. Kade for many years, and I can tell you I’ve seen plenty of women fall in love with him. He makes it very easy.”
If that was supposed to make me feel better, it doesn’t. I’m willing to bet every single one of those women, probably even my own mother, wanted to feel special to Ronan. As if they were different. As if they deserved all of his time and attention. But where are they now?
I don’t want to fall in love with him if that’s what will happen to me. I’ll be replaced by the next starry-eyed girl to come along.
“Although I’ll admit,” Matis adds, “I’ve never seen him look at any of the other women like he’s looking at you right now.”
I glance over at Ronan and see him leaning forward now, his eyes focused on my face, his mouth set in a straight line.
When I feel Matis’s fingers drift over my bare shoulder, a shiver runs through me.
“You are so exquisite, little flower.”
I’m staring at Ronan as Matis’s lips graze my earlobe. And I’m just waiting. Why won’t he put a stop to this? Why won’t he snap?
Not that I want Matis to stop. He’s gorgeous, and I’m definitely attracted to him. And he clearly likes me. So why would I stop him?
Is that what Ronan is waiting for? For me to put an end to this first? Like some sort of game of jealousy chicken? If so…I’ll gladly win.
I turn my head slowly toward Matis, putting our lips so close to each other’s, I can feel his champagne-scented breath on my face.
“Let me make love to you, Daisy,” he whispers casually.
Oh my God. My eyes nearly bug out as his words spin around in my head. I’ve never been spoken to so forwardly in my life, and it’s incredibly jarring. I literally just sat down. I’ve only been speaking to Matis for five minutes. And he asked to sleep with me like he was asking to buy me dinner. At least do that part first.
“That’s enough,” a dark familiar voice bellows, and I pull away from Matis to see Ronan standing up with his jaw clenched and his hands balled into angry fists at his sides.
“Oh, Ronan. You used to be so good at sharing,” Matis adds with a laugh as he sits back in the booth and takes a sip of his drink with a smug smile.
“Not with this one,” he replies, and I have to remind myself to breathe. “Let’s go, Daisy.”
He holds out a hand for me, but I hesitate. “But we just got here.”
His eyes darken. “Now, Daisy,” he barks, and I quietly stand, squeezing my way out of the tight booth and toward the man currently glaring at me more like a disgruntled parent and less like a loving friend.
“Au revoir,” Matis murmurs in a singsong tone before scooting himself closer to one of the other girls at the table.
“Until next time,” Ronan replies casually, nodding to each person around the table.
Then he practically drags me away, and my heart sinks at the prospect that we’re leaving so soon. We literally just sat down. I haven’t seen a thing.
“Oh, Daisy,” he mumbles with more softness than he was showing at the table.
“What? I didn’t do anything. It was your friend laying all the moves on me.” I’m dragging my feet as he pulls me toward the front of the club. Watching the crowd of dancers on the floor, I can’t help wishing I could be among them.
Ronan and I reach a crowded area around the bar, and he tugs me toward an empty corner. “You are a brat, Daisy.”
My head snaps backward as my wide eyes bore into him. Did he really just call me that? “Excuse me?” I retort in a defensive shriek.
He chuckles in return. “It means a submissive who acts out for attention. You never listen to me.”
“It works, doesn’t it?” I reply with a half-smile, and he laughs to himself as he shakes his head and looks away. “You have a lot to learn, baby girl.”
“So teach me,” I reply.
“That would be a dangerous decision, Daisy.”
It feels like another step backward, but I don’t push it. Not after today.
But that pit of disappointment in my gut is still there. “I don’t want to leave yet, Ronan,” I say in a plea.
A large hand touches the small of my back, and the rebellious feeling starts to fade. “We’re not leaving. I just had to get you away from that smooth talker, Matis. He’d have you on that table, devouring you like a meal in minutes, if I hadn’t stepped in.”
My brow furrows in confusion as he pulls me farther into the club. “Wow,” I reply sarcastically, “thanks for saving me from that.”
