Beautifully Broken (The Broken Series Book 2) (6 page)

I
closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I tried to relax. I hadn’t slept well
with Michael sleeping next to me, and the hours I’d just spent crying had left
me feeling even more fatigued. Still, it didn’t matter how wrecked I felt. I
was going to have to deal with Michael sooner or later. An endless amount of
questions were eating at me, and he was the only one who could provide the answers.
I sighed heavily as I ran the sea sponge over my arms and legs. If only I could
go to sleep, wake up, and discover this was all a bad dream.

I
reached for the shampoo, poured a generous amount in my hand, and massaged it
into my scalp. I closed my eyes and sank into the silky water as I rinsed the
soap out. I worked the conditioner into my hair and reclined against the back
of the tub. I sank back into the water as I rinsed the conditioner out. I
huffed out a breath when I realized I hadn’t thought to grab a towel. I climbed
out of the tub and walked gingerly across the bathroom. I quickly towel dried
my hair and wrapped myself in the towel. I threw another towel on the floor. I
nudged it toward the tub with my foot so I could soak up the trail of water I
had left behind.

I
slipped into the smaller of the two robes and rifled through the drawers until
I found a comb. I gently worked the knots out of my hair. I dusted a thin layer
of makeup over my face and brushed some mascara on my lashes in an effort to
hide my red rimmed eyes. I wasn’t trying to look pretty for Michael, but I
didn’t want him to know I’d been crying. I was certain that if he knew how
vulnerable I really felt, he’d find some way to use that to his advantage.

I
peeked inside the bedroom. “
No Michael,
” I breathed with relief. I wanted
to talk to him but not until I was fully clothed. I crossed the room and ducked
inside the closet. I quickly glanced over the clothes. I settled on a teal sundress
when what I really wanted was a pair of baggy sweats. I searched through the
drawers for panties and a matching bra. Then I snagged a pair of heels that resembled
a watercolor painting in teal, coral, and ivory. I had to admit, Michael had
exceptional taste in clothes. Everything fit perfectly. I still couldn’t
believe Michael had figured out the correct sizes simply by watching me shop.

My
hair was still damp when I opened the bedroom door and stepped directly into an
incredibly broad chest. Michael was built but not this built. I looked up at
the towering man. He was trying to look stern, but he was failing miserably. He
took a step back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was wearing
black cargo pants and a black short sleeved t-shirt, which appeared to be
painted on. He had light brown eyes and caramel colored skin like Michael. His
long dark hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail.

His
eyes briefly took me in. “
Bonjour,
Madame Stone
.
” The deep, rich
tone of his voice sent goose bumps skittering across my arms.

“
Bonjour
,”
I responded hesitantly. I wasn’t entirely sure the greeting was appropriate
when I’d just plowed into someone I didn’t know.

The
man’s eyes softened as he met my gaze. “Monsieur Garcia has requested that you remain
upstairs until his meeting has concluded on the main floor.”

I
immediately pictured a throng of gun-toting terrorists milling about
downstairs. “Oh, okay…” I stammered. “I don’t want to interrupt his meeting.” I
eyed the man in front of me. “Your English is quite good. Do you mind telling
me who you are?”

“My
name is Rafael. Monsieur Garcia assigned me to you for your protection. He felt
it prudent that your bodyguard speak English.” Rafael unfolded his arms and began
texting on his phone. “Breakfast will be delivered to your room shortly.”

I
shifted nervously as I glanced down the hall. I knew Michael had some dangerous
connections, but I hadn’t anticipated having a bodyguard. I had been hoping to
track Michael down so I could talk to him. But now? I didn’t know what to do. The
bedroom was hardly a prison cell, but I had no desire to stay locked up in my
room. Finally, I spoke. “Would it be possible to have breakfast in the
library?”

He
smiled. “Sure. The library is located on the second floor, next to the garden
terrace. I’ll show you there.” Rafael turned and walked down the hallway. He sent
another text message before tucking the phone inside his pocket.

I
trailed after Rafael, but he shortened his stride so we were walking alongside
one another. I gave the staircase a wide berth as we crossed over into the
other wing. I didn’t want to risk being seen by anyone downstairs.

The
tension in my back and shoulders eased when we entered the library. It wasn’t
so much the books as it was the smell of coffee that I found comforting. A tray
of food was sitting on a small coffee table, which was nestled between two
oversized leather chairs and a very large window.

Rafael
removed the lid from the tray and examined the food. “
B
on appétit
,” he remarked before
walking out of the room. The doors closed softly behind him. I could only
assume he remained standing on the other side.

I
stared at the tray of food. Was he curious about what I was eating or
questioning the safety of the food? As my eyes shifted toward the door, I
wondered whether he had truly been assigned for my protection. I had presumed Michael
had hired him to prevent me from escaping. My curiosity flitted between Rafael
and the books.

I
looked around the library. An insane number of books lined the walls from ceiling
to floor. My fingers skimmed over the books while I perused the shelves. A good
portion of the books were written in French. Some had Spanish or Portuguese
titles, but very few were written in English.

I
searched the shelves for some time before stumbling across a book that I
thought might offer answers to some of the questions still swirling around my
mind. The book was sitting on a large table in the center of the room. My
fingertips lingered over the gold embossing before I picked the book up and
settled into one of the oversized chairs.

I
wasn’t hungry, but I was eager to try the coffee that had been beckoning me
from the moment I had entered the room. I reached for the carafe and poured the
dark, life saving elixir into a cup that was entirely too small for my liking.
I lifted the cup and breathed in the rich earthy aroma as I took a small sip.
The coffee slid decadently across my tongue. I took two more sips, then closed
my eyes as I savored the soothing effect.

I
drank two cups of coffee before turning my attention to the book. I sifted through
the pages until I found the section I was looking for. I lost all track of time
as I fell into the book.

“
Bonjour,
mon coeur
. I see you have found my Bible.”

I
glanced up as Michael’s voice rolled over me. He was leaning casually in the
doorway, as if he had been standing there for quite some time. Interestingly
enough, Rafael was nowhere to be seen.

Michael
crossed the room in four long strides. He reached for my hand as he knelt in
front of me. “Why are you reading the Bible?” he asked with some concern.

My
eyes met his. “I thought it might help.” I glanced back down at the Bible. Of
all the questions that had been concerning me, there was one question that
troubled me most. Michael had threatened thousands of lives in an effort to
force me here. He renewed that threat when we landed in Paris. I knew what
could happen if I refused to cooperate. As horrifying and manipulative as that
threat was, I made the choice to walk away from Kadyn, my friends, and my
family in an effort to protect them and countless others. I couldn’t live with
the knowledge that my selfishness might cost others their lives, but I was
still questioning whether I could do this in the long term. Could I walk away
from my life, my values, and self-respect and give Michael
everything
?
Would God expect this of me if it meant saving others?

After
reading through the scriptures and praying, I had found my answer. God had
sacrificed his own son to save millions. Jesus sacrificed everything. My
sacrifice would be nothing compared to that. Besides, there was still the
remote possibility that if I cooperated and gave Michael everything he asked
for, that he would no longer enjoy the challenge that my resistance presented.
He could tire of me and let me go.

I
looked back down at Michael. Concern was now etched across his handsome face. Did
he suspect my moral dilemma? I set the Bible aside with a small sigh, still
hesitant to accept my fate.

Michael
frowned as he eyed the untouched food. “
Ma chérie,
surely you will not
make me beg for you to eat?” He pulled the phone from his pocket and sent a
quick text before pulling me to my feet. “Come, I want to show you something.
The cook will bring a warm tray up for the both of us.”

Michael
twined his fingers with mine as he led me into the garden terrace. I stumbled
when I saw the glass ceiling. Michael steadied me. “Do you like it?”

I
stood gaping at the breathtaking array of flowering plants. When I finally looked
down to see what had caused me to lose my footing, I found the flooring had
been replaced by grass. Smooth stepping stones led in three different
directions. “It’s beautiful,” I breathed.

Michael
smiled, obviously pleased with my response. He nudged me forward so we could
wander through cascading roses, orchids, and hibiscus. The floral scented air
was intoxicating. We walked through the entire garden before Michael navigated me
to a mosaic table and two intricately designed chairs that were secreted next
to a large rock waterfall. A tray of food was sitting on the table.

Michael
pulled a chair out for me before settling into the other chair. He opened the
lid to the tray and handed me a small plate with a savory smelling omelet. He took
the second omelet for himself before moving the tray to a rock ledge next to
the table. He glanced at me as he poured the coffee.

I
scowled at the small cup. “Why are your coffee cups so small?”

Michael
laughed as he handed me one of the cups. “This is a
demitasse
. French
coffee is much stronger and richer than the coffee served in the United States.
We don’t water it down like you do, so we don’t need large cups. I think you’ll
find this coffee is far superior to the coffee you’ve been drinking. Trust me. You
won’t miss the large cups.”

I
set the cup down. I wasn’t about to give Michael the satisfaction of seeing
just how much I enjoyed the coffee, which I had already sampled in the library.
I was a bit annoyed with his condescending response, but I at least recognized
my own rudeness in criticizing the cups. I glanced at Michael as I cut into the
omelet. “
B
on appétit,
”
I murmured in some misguided attempt to remedy my previous rudeness.

Michael
smiled as he cut into his own omelet. “
B
on
appétit.
”

I
watched the bright orange and white Koi swim lazily through the water at the
base of the waterfall while we quietly ate. I was hesitant to ruin the tranquil
environment, but I still had a number of questions for Michael that I was
anxious to have answered. I shored up my courage as I watched the Koi drift
closer to the surface. My gaze eventually shifted to Michael. “Have you ever
killed anyone?”

Michael’s
face blanched. “No.”

“But
you work with terrorists?” I prompted, closely studying his face.

Michael
turned to watch the Koi. “
One man’s terrorist
…” he responded softly.

“…
is
another man’s freedom fighter?
Michael, surely you don’t believe that?”

He
shrugged. “I may not always agree with their methods, but they often fight for
a greater good.”

I
lowered my voice to a whisper. “What exactly do you do for them, Michael?”

His
eyes searched mine. “Do you really want to know?”

I
folded my arms across my chest as I leaned back in the chair. “Michael, you
have asked me to give up everything that I know and love to be here with you. I’m
in sufficient danger to require a bodyguard. I think I
deserve
to know.”

“I
can protect you far better than that soldier ever could,” Michael responded moodily.

I
shook my head. “I’m not so sure, Michael. You have pulled me into a very
dangerous life.”

A
look of panic flashed in Michael’s eyes before his face hardened. “No one who
knows me would dare hurt you.”

I
shrugged. “Perhaps, but I still deserve to know what I’m getting myself into.”

Michael
huffed out a breath. “Fine. I wash their money and then invest it for them.”

I
had suspected as much, given his investment background and the white collar
crimes he‘d been accused of. “And what if you invest poorly?”

Michael
looked offended. “I do not invest poorly…
ever
. Besides, their funds are
sufficiently diversified. One wrong decision has very little impact when you’re
working with this kind of money.”