Beautifully Broken (The Broken Series Book 2) (31 page)

Lexie
agreed to fly to Paris to spend time with me over Thanksgiving and again at
Christmas, so she could attend the wedding. I was relieved when she agreed to serve
as my matron of honor despite her concerns that I was marrying Michael. No
amount of pleading would convince my parents to come.

Dan
was less accommodating. His exact words when he ripped the phone out of Kimme’s
hand were, “Get your ass home, Krissy. Don’t make me come over there and get
you, because I’ll kill Garcia with my bare hands if I do.”

I
didn’t bother telling anyone I was pregnant. I thought it best to leave that bombshell
for another day.
Baby steps…
or so I thought.

Michael
took me to see an OB doctor later that same week. I’ll never forget the look on
his face when he heard the baby’s heartbeat. He nearly fell from his chair. He gave
the doctor an overzealous hug before asking to run the Doppler over my stomach
himself. Then he bought the machine right out from under the doctor so we could
listen to the baby’s heartbeat at home. He was beaming, clasping hands, and
kissing everyone on the cheek when we walked out of the office.

Michael
resumed his regular work schedule the following day. He crept down to his
office in the morning, which allowed me to sleep in. We ate lunch together, but
then he’d leave for meetings or random errands in the afternoon. I was never
sure if his outings were related to work, our wedding plans, or the renovations
he was planning for the room next to ours. Regardless, Michael was a man on a
mission. He was constantly showing me pictures on his laptop to get my feedback
on the new nursery.

I
began discovering bridal magazines scattered throughout the garden terrace, the
library, and our bedroom. A number of pages were bent, indicating the dresses Michael
liked best. Like me, he leaned toward dresses that were simple and elegant. He kept
encouraging me to choose a dress and warned me repeatedly that we were running
out of time. Before I knew it, it was the first of November. Less than two
months remained before the wedding.

Michael
decided to take matters into his own hands. We were eating lunch in the garden
terrace when he made the announcement. “I asked one of the bridal stores to
send their staff by the house this afternoon so you can try on wedding dresses.”

“What?”
I screeched. “They’re bringing dresses here?
This afternoon
?”

Michael
laughed. “Is that a problem,
mon coeur
? Are you worried it might
interfere with your nap?”

“I
can’t help that I’m tired all the time,” I whined. “I’m growing a baby for
crying out loud. It’s fatiguing!”

Michael
refilled my glass with sparkling water. “The dress,
ma chérie
, focus on
the dress… at least for one afternoon.”

I
shook my head as I resumed eating the salad. “I don’t have a clue what kind of
dress I want. They’re all so expensive, and what if I start showing before the
wedding? I don’t even know what size to choose.”

Michael
shook his head and
tsk’d
me under his breath. “There won’t be any price
tags on these dresses, and you aren’t allowed to ask how much they cost. Just
have them order the dress one size too big. The seamstress can always take the
dress in the week before the wedding if it’s still too big.”

I
sighed as I resigned myself to the task. “Have you already picked out a tux?”

“I’m
going to see the tailor tomorrow morning.” Michael tucked a loose strand of
hair behind my ear. “Please,
mon coeur
, indulge me in this.”

I
captured his hand in mine. “I’m excited to see the dresses, Michael. Thank you
for arranging the appointment. Will Rafael be joining you tomorrow?”

Michael
smiled. “
Oui
. Rafael has agreed to stand as my best man.”

I
leaned across the table and kissed his cheek. “
Très
bien.
I knew he would.”

Michael
stood and pulled me to my feet. “I’ll be out this afternoon. I don’t want to
see the dress you pick. I want to be surprised. Have fun,
mon amour
.
This should be fun for you.”

I
wove my fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. “I will,
mon
chérie.
I promise
.
”

Michael
kissed me softly on the forehead. “
Je
t'aime, Kristine.
”

“I
love you too, Michael. More than you could possibly know.” I rolled up onto my
tiptoes and kissed him long enough for him to growl his frustration at having
to part. I laughed. “Serves you right. We should both be tortured while we are
apart.”

*
* * * * *

An
hour later, I was buried under an avalanche of satin, silk, lace, and beads in
a small array of muted colors. It wasn’t until I waved away all of the beaded and
lace dresses that I discovered a simple ivory satin dress that I couldn’t bear
to part with. The thick satin wrapped like a shawl straight across my chest and
arms, so that it fell just off my shoulders. It fit snugly through the chest
and waist. Then miles of satin cascaded gently from the waist into a long, wide
train. A thin bow was cinched to one side of the waist. The lack of
embellishments made the dress all the more beautiful, because the true elegance
lie in its simplicity and in how the fabric was draped. The dress couldn’t have
been more perfect.

Michael
returned shortly before dinner. He found me curled up on the couch watching the
fire crackle and dance in our room. He pulled his tie loose and kicked his
shoes off. “
Bonsoir, mon amour
. Did you find a dress?”

I
smiled softly as my eyes met his. “I found the perfect dress.”

Michael
lifted me from the couch so he could cradle my head in his lap. “
Très
bien
.
I’m glad that’s settled. Now we have the flowers, the dress, the priest, your
rings, the Palais Garnier, and a string quartet. The cook has insisted on
baking the cake and has agreed to oversee the reception here at the house. I
just finished scheduling a civil ceremony, which will be held the day before
the wedding.”

I
rolled over on my back so I could look at Michael. His face was glowing softly
in the firelight. I traced the shadow along his jaw. “You’ve been busy,
mon
chérie
.”

Michael
nodded as his hand strayed to my stomach. He’d grown completely enamored with
my tummy and was constantly caressing it. “I’d like to take you shopping on
Friday, so you can pick out my ring. Have you thought about where you might
like to honeymoon?”

My
eyebrows knit together. “You know, Michael, every day with you feels like a
honeymoon. Why don’t we go back to Saint-Tropez? I really enjoyed our time
there.”

“We
could also visit the Greek Islands,” Michael mused absently.

I
smiled at the cook and her granddaughter as they set the dinner tray and drinks
on the coffee table. “Whatever you prefer, Michael. Honestly, I am happy as
long as I’m with you.”

“And
me with you,” Michael whispered huskily as he watched his staff slip silently from
the room. Slowly, his hands drifted from my stomach to my breasts, which had
swollen considerably over the past few days. “Would you like an appetizer
before dinner?” Michael asked as his hand burrowed under my shirt.

I
sat up and teasingly straddled his lap. “
Mon amour
, I thought you would
never ask.”

Michael
pulled the crushed silk shirt over my head. He lowered each strap of my bra
before capturing my mouth in a ravenous kiss. His lips made their way down my
neck and shoulders. His tongue worked its way under the lace edge of my demi-bra,
lapping and teasing my swollen breasts until each nipple formed a hard peak. My
head fell back as a soft moan escaped my lips.

Heat
pooled deep and low as Michael consumed first one, then the other nipple in his
mouth. Dinner was forgotten entirely as he lifted me from the couch and lowered
me onto the bed. He peeled my remaining clothes off before getting undressed.

He
approached from the end of the bed. He licked and kissed each toe, the arch of
my foot, and up both legs. I begged him to take me then, but he continued
teasing me with his tongue. He settled between my legs and lapped at me until I
was trembling with need.

He
kissed my hands, my arms, stomach, chest, and neck before reclaiming my mouth.
“
Le mienne
,” he murmured against my lips. “
Tu
m’appartiens…
you belong to me.” Michael pushed just
inside of me, then stopped. “Say it,
mon coeur
.”

My
words were caught between a whisper and a moan. “I’m yours, Michael. I belong
to you. I want only you. I
need
only you...
seulement toi
.” When
he didn’t move, I pleaded, “
Please
, Michael, I need to feel you inside
of me.”

Michael
eased inside of me at a painstakingly slow pace. As he lowered his body to mine,
he pressed forcefully against my womb. “Is this what you need?”

My
back arched as I savored the feel of him so deeply buried inside. “
Oui
,
mon
chérie.
This is where you belong
.
”

Michael
anchored his arms under my back. He pulled back and drove into me. Then he
stilled, locking us both in place.

I
studied his face. “Michael, it’s okay. The baby’s perfectly safe.” I raked my
fingernails down his back, trying to encourage him to move. “Again,” I pleaded
hoarsely.

Michael
thrust inside of me as he held my shoulders in place. He buried his body inside
of mine in long, forceful strokes. “
Tu
es à moi, Kristine
.
Tu m’appartiens…
s
eulement moi.”

“Oui,”
I
cried. I arched against him as he consumed my mouth… my neck… my breasts. “
Seulement
toi, Michael.
Je
n'aime
que toi.
”

I
surrendered completely as Michael claimed every tangible and intangible piece
of me. His golden skin shimmered through my tears as we shattered in shards of
silver and gold. Michael collapsed on top of me, and we both stilled, trying to
catch our breath.

After
a few minutes, he began rocking gently inside of me. The rhythm was deep and
slow. Michael’s eyes locked on mine. We made love, tenderly this time, and each
of us watched as the other fell apart.

*
* * * * *

I
was standing, staring at the fountain in the garden, with nothing to do. Like
some untapped well, I had woken for the first time in months with an abundance
of energy, but there was nothing I could do with it. Since everything else was
already being done for me, for the nursery, and the wedding; I thought I would
rake leaves. I tried to find the gardener, but Theron was nowhere to be found. So
I tried convincing Jean to find me a rake. He looked at me like I was on crack.

Raking
leaves made sense in my mind, because it was the only thing I could see that really
needed to be done. Jean insisted it was the gardener’s job to rake the leaves.
Michael and Rafael were off trying on tuxes, and it was still too early to call
the states. So I had no one to talk to and nothing to do… nothing but stare at
the fountain.

The
sound of scuffing shoes pulled me from my thoughts. I turned, thinking it might
be the gardener. My eyes widened when I saw them.

A
man with long, greasy hair stood holding Jean’s neck in the crook of his arm. He
was wearing a crumpled gray suit.

“Jean!”
I gasped. My heart pounded in deafening blows.

Jean’s
eyes were bulging. He was clawing at the man’s arm, and his feet were trying to
get a stronghold on the tile. “Run,” he rasped, only to have the man tighten
his hold.

I
wanted to run. My heart was racing so fast, it nearly demanded it, but I could
see Jean was on the edge of death. I lunged for the man. I tried prying his
arms away, then beat angrily at his arms and face. “
Stop!
” I screamed. “
You’re
killing him!
”

The
man shoved Jean forward. Hard. His body crashed into mine. Jean’s head made a
sickening sound as it hit the side of the fountain. I fell back over the edge
and into the sculpture, which toppled and shattered all around me. Broken
chunks of marble sprayed across my face, slashing my hands and knees as I
scrambled to get out of the water.

Jean’s
attacker wrenched me back. He flipped me over and locked his hands around my
neck. His face was twisted in rage.

“
Get
off!
” I screamed. I clawed at his hands.

He
forced my head under the water. I kicked and bucked beneath him, but still he
held me down. Just as I opened my mouth to breathe, he ripped me out of the
water.

His
eyes were black and unseeing. His fingers dug painfully into my neck. “He cost
me everything,” he spit out. “
Everything!
” he screamed.