My Sweet Isabella (The Ambassad - Mia Villano

Contents Title Page Copyright Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Acknowledgements

The Ambassador Trilogy Book 3 Mia Villano Mia Villano Books

This book is fiction. Name, character, businesses, places, events and situations are still products of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the work mentioned in this work of fiction.

Copyright © 2016 by Mia Villano My Sweet Isabella Cover Art by J.N. Sheats: http://www.jnsheats.com/

Edited by M.E Montgomery All rights reserved

I swallowed back the lump in my throat. My world was getting on the plane and leaving me alone. I loved her more than I loved anything. Words couldn’t express what I truly felt for her. She was beauty, passion, and indescribable love. My sweet Isabella made my life complete. Watching her take the steps up to

the jet tore at my heart. I wouldn’t see her again for fourteen days. Two weeks before I could make love to her. Two weeks before I could smell her, taste her, and look at her. She turned around and waved at me. I couldn’t describe what went through my body at that moment. I caught a glimpse of her ring I put on her finger the day before. The Cartier diamond that promised me she would be my wife and love me forever. Her wild hair I loved to feel against my body blew around her angelic face. Her bare, tanned legs that brought me to my knees, were flexed sending me to thoughts of them wrapped around my waist. I was tempted to run up the steps and go with her, back to the United States. I couldn’t

do that because I still had work to do in Paris. The night before she asked me about the threats on my life. A painful shot of guilt tore through me as I remembered that for the first time, I lied to her. I couldn’t tell her how bad the threats were. I didn’t want her to worry about me. She just dealt with Avery’s illness, the death of her ex-boyfriend, and making a career change; I couldn’t put her through more. When I looked into her eyes, they showed so much concern, so much hurt. I couldn’t add to the pain. No, I told her I was fine and everything was under control. I told her I was safe. I lied. I wasn’t safe. The threats were direct, and they were ominous. The

terrorist group that I unraveled by killing their leader in a hostage rescue, was still vowing revenge. The threats had been ongoing for the past ten years. I didn’t think anything of it until I became the Ambassador, and that’s when the threats became more intimidating. Once I was in the public eye, this group made a point to single me out. The latest threat that came in was a video sent to my Paris office. They vowed revenge on me and anyone else that may have been with me that day when we rescued the hostages. They threatened to kill as many people as they could for what I had done. Was I afraid? This time, yes. This time, I felt something different. This time I feared the threats were real. and the action

would be coming soon. I couldn’t tell Isabella. I let her go back home without knowing how much danger I could be in. After I watched the plane takeoff, I turned around and headed back to my office. I had a lot of work ahead of me. I powered through the day with meetings and conference calls to the United States. There was a briefing on the threats against me, and there was a new recorded message that came in I needed to watch. The last message was by someone in their group standing outside a barrack somewhere in a desert. All of the messages were verbal or emails, until I received this last one. This was the first actual video sent to the Paris Embassy.

Watching the recorded message on my phone with earbuds, I didn’t notice Gustan standing in the doorway of my office. Gustan was our Embassy speaker, the office manager, my sometimes bodyguard, and most importantly, my friend. We served together in the Special Ops, and he was with me the night we rescued the hostages. He was with me when the helicopter exploded and set my body ablaze. He didn’t leave me that night until we made it safely to a hospital. I won’t ever forget that he was there for me. I took my earbuds out and stood up to greet him. He stretched out his arms. “So, did she say yes?” I had told Gustan I planned on asking Isabella to marry me when she

came to Paris. I showed him the ring and told him what I planned on doing, having her entire family involved. I smiled and slapped him on the shoulder. I laughed as we embraced. “Of course, she did. How could she refuse me?” “I’m so happy for you both. Let’s celebrate. I’ll take you down to Le Chocolatier Coffee Shop. My treat.” Gustan stood about six-foot five with a lot more muscle mass than me. He was big, burly, and quite intimidating. I felt safer with him around. He’d had my back several times in difficult situations, and I hope having him with me in Paris would be the same. I told him about the

threats, and since then he has been with me as much as possible. “Sounds perfect, but you will buy me a chocolate croissant,” I laughed. “Only if you give me details on how she thanked you that night.” “Gustan, you know I won’t do that. A man never kisses and tells. However, you will still buy me that croissant.” I laughed at him as we headed down the hall to the elevators. I thought about how she thanked me. She thanked me all night and the next morning. Thinking about what we did made miss her all over again. Le Chocolatier was one block away from our offices. The streets in Paris were busy with people going about

their day, to lunch, shopping, and enjoying the beautiful weather. Not a cloud in the sky that afternoon and the temperature was perfect for a walk to my favorite place. Getting a coffee there every day was becoming a bad habit while I was in Paris. Sometimes, like today, I would sneak in a pastry. They made the best chocolate croissants in France. Before we walked in, I looked inside and noticed the shop was busier than usual. For one in the afternoon, the place was full of people. I remembered that day was an out-of-school day, and Le Chocolatier was full of children and moms taking a break from shopping, or just in there for a coffee and some good

conversation. Gustan held the door for me, and I walked in front of him and took a place in line. Every day, like clockwork, we headed to Le Chocolatier for an afternoon cup and some conversation about work. I heard gun shots immediately after we walked in as I stood behind a mom and her small boy. My training told me to look for blood, and empty cartridges. I heard screaming and saw people fall to the floor. I noticed blood splattered everywhere. I spotted one of the gunmen out of the corner of my eye. He was firing at random people so quickly I didn’t have time to react. He wore a black mask and was shooting nonstop. Gustan was already on the other one. I

lunged when a gunmen pointed the gun at the child’s head in front of me. In broken English he yelled, “This is because of you, Ambassador.” Isabella crossed my mind at that moment as I instinctively lunged toward him. I felt an unbearable burning shoot through me. I heard her voice in my head. Flashes of Isabella raced through my mind. I was falling. My head hit something hard. There was screaming. More popping. The smell of blood was now strong in the air. Tears stung my eyes. Blackness enveloped me.

A

distant noise woke me up. I didn’t want to get up. I was peaceful and dreaming of Isabella, the love of my life; the woman I was born to be with. I heard a beeping sound in the distance. I was lying down, but not in my bed. The sheets didn’t feel soft like mine. The smell was familiar, but not from my home. I was able to see images. There were people standing around me.

Unfamiliar faces were hovered around my bed, but I could barely make out who they were. I tried to focus on my surroundings. Where was I? Where was Isabella? She must be next to me, and this was a dream. No, she’d gone home. The damn beeping. My hands, I couldn’t move them. They wouldn’t move. Was I dead? I had to wake up from this dream. I tried to sit up with surprising effort but, my body wouldn’t move. A rush of nausea hit me. There was pain everywhere. My leg ached. I was hot and sweaty. There was something in my nose. What the fuck was going on? I began to hear voices more clearly. I felt warmth against my hot skin. Someone touched my skin. Soft fingers. “Don’t

touch me,” I yelled, but nothing came out. Why couldn’t I speak? I forced myself to say something. “Isabella.” I tried to say. Was I speaking? Could she hear me? It was her. She woke me up from the bad dream. No, it couldn’t be her. She left to go home. Someone said my name. Images raced in my head again. I focused more, and I saw a hint of light. “Ambassador. Can you hear me?” I have never had a dream like that. Where was my Isabella? “Mr. Ambassador?” Who the hell kept talking? The voice was French and didn’t sound like her. I tried to say something. Nothing

came out of my mouth. Deep terrifying panic of not being in control of my surroundings took over. I tried to get up again. I tried to move my body, but I still didn’t have the strength. My hands were still not moving. Where they tied down? Were these people trying to hurt me? “Is.” I barely eeked out a whisper. The pain in my leg was intense. Where the fuck was I? I focused on a face in front of me. A woman. This woman was not my Isabella. She was much older with a white coat, short hair and a French accent. Where was Gustan? Was he dead? “Ambassador. You are in the hospital. You are okay.” The hospital?

Suddenly, I remembered. The coffee shop, the blood, screaming, the pain. “Ambassador, do you remember what happened to you?” Things came into focus more as I noticed the sparse room, putrid green walls, and the smell. The smell of antiseptic and sickness. I attempted to speak. My voice was barely a whisper. “I want Is…..Isabella.” “Isabella has been here with you the entire night, along with your parents. I sent her home to get some rest. Believe me, Ambassador, she didn’t want to go. You have an incredible fiancé.” I closed my eyes again to think of her. I pictured her sleeping in our bed. covered in the white comforter, so warm

and soft. Her hair spilling over the pillow. I tried to envision her next to me. I found the most comfort with her snuggled against me. I wanted to be with her, but I couldn’t move my body. “Ambassador, please be still. You have to rest. Isabella will be right back. I will call her for you.” Another person in a white coat came over and stood next to the bed and tried to settle me down. I didn’t need to be talked to like a fucking idiot. I tried to lift my head. I needed my phone. I needed to call her so she could get me out of there. I had to hear her voice. Oh God, the pain. I cried out. This time I recognized my voice. “Ambassador, what’s wrong?”

What the hell? She’s a doctor and knew what was wrong. I was shot, in pain, and I wanted my Isabella. Fuck, the pain was horrendous. Where was Gustan? Gustan had been with me. He needed to be here to get me out of this place. “I have to go home.” I attempted to get the IV out of my arm, but my hands weren’t working. I didn’t need this shit. As more feeling was coming back to my body, I fought to stand up and get out of bed, I noticed an armed guard outside my door and my leg in a huge cast. My body hurt. I had to get up. Why couldn’t I get up? “Ambassador, you need to settle down. You had major surgery. You were shot three days ago.” The doctor said

something to the nurse and she nodded. Shot? Where was I shot? There was commotion around me. The nurse put something in my IV. Whatever she put in the IV, burned my arm then it felt warm and cozy.

I was more alert this time when I woke up. This time something was better. I felt her warmth across my chest. The essence of her familiar sweet perfume was in the air. My sweet Isabella was with me. My eyes struggled to open but, the struggle was worth the effort. She looked up at me and I gazed into the most beautiful face in the world. An

angel. She made it worthwhile to breathe. Her eyes were fixed on my face. “Fabrice.” I focused on her face better. The love in her eyes brought me relief. The pain eased as I focused on her and relaxed for the first time in that strange place. She came back to me. “Isabella.” The words came out weak, but my whisper was enough for her to hear me. “I love you. I love you so much,” she cried. I tried to lift my arm to stroke her head and comfort her. I didn’t have the strength and the pain instinctively made me leave my hand where it was. She brought her mouth to mine. The taste of her lips told me I was still alive. Her sweet breath told me she was real

and not a dream. I kissed her back as best I could, barely able to open my parched lips, but needing the life she could breathe into me. Thoughts of the first time I saw her came rushing back into my mind: her standing in my office, the first time I made love to her and how delicious her body tasted, the first time I let her see my scars and the night she promised to be my wife. I couldn’t let her go. I would never let her go. And now she’d flown back to me after she just left to go home. The doctor walked over to us and smiled. She was the same woman from earlier.

“You are one lucky man, Ambassador Arbidoux. Isabella flew back to you as soon as she heard and she has been with you ever since.” She smiled at me and looked at Isabella. I didn’t feel lucky. I felt like shit and she was smiling at me. She had no idea what she was saying. I couldn’t move and she was telling me I was lucky. “What happened?” I asked. Isabella sat softly down on the bed next to me and caressed my brow. Her hands were so warm and soft on my skin, soothing my pissed off mood. “I will let Isabella tell you. It’s a long story and I’m going to do my rounds and come back later to go over some things. I’m very happy you are awake,

Ambassador. You have been through two surgeries in the last three days. You are one tough man.” I looked again at Isabella’s face. She smiled affectionately. My thoughts were spinning out of control and I was still confused. Two surgeries? “I will be back to see you later. I want you to rest as much as possible this morning because we plan on getting you out of here tomorrow,” said the doctor. “Tell me, is Gustan okay? That boy. There was a boy they were going to kill. Did they kill him?” The doctor walked out as I was still talking. Bits and pieces of that moment were coming back into my memory. I held that boys face in my mind. He was maybe six

years old, holding his mother’s hand with a look of shock in his eyes. They had a gun pointed at his head. His mother begged for the coward not to shoot him, for the gunman to shoot her instead. Lunging towards the gunman was the last thing I remembered. “Gustan is fine. He didn’t get shot. He saved your life. I don’t know about the boy. What boy?” “There was a young boy. They were going to kill him. He was small and so afraid. He was whimpering, trying not to cry. He wasn’t saying a word just making noises.” “I don’t know, Fabrice. I have no idea about a boy.” I needed to know. I had to find out he was fine.

“Listen to me. You were shot with a high powered rifle. The bullet went through your leg and missed the femoral artery and major nerves. However, the bullet shattered the bone in your leg. They were afraid you may lose your leg. You’ve had two surgeries and have been in the hospital for a few days. I was so afraid. All I heard was that you may bleed to death or get an infection. These last three days have been hell.” Her voice changed as she cried. I looked at her as I tried to take in what she said. I was shot? In all my years in Special Ops I had not been hit, despite many attempts. “Who did this to me?” “The men who have been

threatening you over the past ten years. They had waited and watched you. They knew you went to the coffee shop every day while you were in Paris. The attack was revenge for the hostage rescue. Remember before I left, you said I was overreacting? You said the threats were fine and they were nothing. They were definitely something.” “How many people died?” “I don’t know exactly. I’ve been more worried about you.” She was lying to me. I could tell by the tone in her voice that she knew. “Tell me, Isabella.” I was so weak and in so much pain, to speak was a struggle. She closed her eyes and

whispered. “Ten people were killed and eight injured in the coffee shop.” Oh my God. I shut my eyes and turned my head away from her. Those fucking cowards killed innocent people to get to me. “I need to know if the boy was killed. I need to find out where he is.” “I will ask Gustan and have him find out. Please rest, Fabrice. You have to rest.” How could I rest knowing what happened because of me. “Are those bastards dead?” “Yes, there were two of them and Gustan killed them both. Fabrice, I could have lost you. You could have been one of the ten. You could have died. You were supposed to have been killed. If it

weren’t for Gustan, you wouldn’t be here.” She laid her head on my chest and cried. Her tears were warm as they trickled down onto my hospital gown. With determination, I was able to finally lift my arm and caress her head. I brought a few strands of her hair to my nose and breathed in the scent of her shampoo. “You promised me you weren’t in danger. I believed you. You knew didn’t you?” She looked up at me, and her gaze bore in to me. In my fog, I couldn’t read her. I felt her body tense with anger towards me. “I didn’t want to worry you, Isabella. You don’t need to worry about me.” She touched my face, and her gaze

stayed on me. “I do need to worry about you. I love you, Fabrice.” “I need to get back to work. I want to get out of here.” “You will. Everyone has been here to see you. You are the top news story on every news network here and in America. The press has been camped out for three days in front of the hospital. Jean and his wife, General Morou, and the President, called to make sure you were okay. Your Prime Minister stopped by last night, and the French President also called. Your mom and dad have not left the hospital. They are outside in the waiting room. Your mom has been a mess since this happened.”

“I love you,” I whispered. Fuck, even with mascara smudged and swollen eyes, she was so beautiful. Maybe even more beautiful then she had ever been before. Her familiar aura and sweet scent made me feel at home. She was my home. Her eyes locked onto mine and she began to cry again. “I love you more than anything.” “Don’t cry.” My fingers felt big and swollen, but I managed to stroke her face and brush the tears away. “I’m so relieved you’re alive, Fabrice. I wouldn’t be able to make it, if you died.” I wish I shared in her happiness. I was still pissed off I had been shot and now in this damn hospital

when I should be working trying to stop this type of shit from happening. I noticed something in her hand. “What’s this?” I nodded towards her hands. “Your rosary. I didn’t have mine with me, so your mom gave me yours. I prayed so hard. I even prayed to St. Anthony for a miracle, and he always comes through for me.” “He listened. Thank you. Kiss me,” I murmured. She didn’t hesitate, and her lips touched mine ever so slightly. My lips were dry and cracked and hers so wet and warm. I wanted to melt into her. Nothing tasted better. She was all I needed to keep me alive. She was

everything and so much more. ~~~~~~~~~~~ That afternoon I had more visitors then I cared about. My parents, Isabella, and Gustan were the few people I wanted to see. That wasn’t the case with the rest. When the team of physicians felt I was alert enough to answer questions, authorities came in to get more information on what happened. I wasn’t sure the exact details. As I tried to recall those few minutes, some of the faces flashed through my mind, the screams, and the splattering of blood on the walls. I looked towards the window as my stomach clenched at the thought of what happened in those few short minutes. I didn’t want them to see me get emotional

so I turned my head away from them. After a few minutes I looked back and they continued with their questions. They wanted to know if I heard the gunmen say anything. I recalled one had screamed in broken English that the attack was revenge for killing their leader. The authorities took notes and promised to be back in touch. The Paris prosecutor came in to ask more questions later in the day. He and I were friends from college. Pierre Bernard was a good man whom I respected. He was my primary contact during the hostage siege. We discussed this might happen ten years ago, and he was who I spoke to last month when the threats began to come in again. He told

me to stay in the United States as much as possible. I didn’t listen to him of course, and he quickly reminded me. “Fabrice, you stubborn man, we are so glad you were alive. When I heard what happened, I feared the worst.” “You were right and I should have listened to you.” My eyes were heavy with exhaustion as I tried to speak to him with a strong authoritative voice. “Yes, you should have. I have word the two men in the shop had ties to the extreme Islamic group in Syria, the group that followed Azhar Hakim. “That fucking bastard has been dead now for ten years. They have a new piece of shit leading them. It’s his son, I

think. “They wanted revenge. They had been following you for months back and forth to Washington. They wanted to kill you on your home land and take innocent people along with you.” “There was this boy. I can’t get his face out of my head. They were going to kill him. Tell me he is okay.” “As I recall, there was no child killed that day. The terrorist killed ten people, and children were not among the dead. I will definitely verify that for you.” My body relaxed to know he was still alive. “Am I safe now? Is Isabella safe?” He hesitated. His gaze left my face, and he looked away. I knew what that

meant before he said anything. “I feel you are, for the most part, safer. Two of them are dead. The group has claimed responsibility for the deaths of the innocent in the café. We have not heard anything from anyone to make us believe you are not. That is not to say they won’t start again. Right now, I don’t know how many we are dealing with. If Azhur’s son is now in charge, and he is still alive, I would say we have more work to do. I would like you to keep Gustan with you as much as possible, go back to Washington when you are strong enough, and this time inform me faster when and if any more threats come in. Also, I’m not satisfied with only Gustan. I’m getting some more people around

you. I know you don’t like that, but that is how it needs to be right now. Later, we can cut back. I’d feel safer if you let me hire some more protection.” I took a second to look at him to read him more thoroughly. He was genuinely concerned. I had Isabella to think of now and my ego needed to take a backseat. “Thank you, Pierre. More guards are not necessary for me, but for Isabella’s sake let’s do add more security.” I didn’t want more people around me. I had a hard time accepting Gustan living with me twenty-four hours a day. My place would be turned into a commune with more guards. “What are we talking about, a couple more?” “I’m thinking, right now, at least

four, and I want to make sure there are cameras all over your home for the security guard to monitor every angle. I will put Gustan in charge of this and speak to him today. “I need to ask a question?” “Anything, Fabrice.” He sat forward and listened to me intently. “Tell me the truth, even with all of this, is Isabella safe here with me in Paris?” He looked down and said nothing. “Tell me, Pierre. She’s my life.” “I think she would be safer in the United States. I don’t think it’s safe for you or her to stay here right now. The doctors don’t want you to leave Paris yet and I know she won’t leave you. I can

have you protected. I will do what I can.” I nodded my head in agreement. “Gustan is one man. If these bastards are serious, you need more. It’s a damn shame you have to live like that, but until we know more, that is what needs to be done to keep both you and Isabella safe. It’s not forever, Fabrice.” “I will do whatever I have to so she is safe. I don’t want her to know or be afraid. I would give up my life for her. I couldn’t imagine anyone hurting her.” Pierre stood up, walked over to the window, and looked out. “We need to get your house secure. I’m talking state of the art security

system. I think your dad may have already done that.” He turned back around to look at me. “What house?” He kept mentioning my home. I didn’t know what home he was referring to. I sold my Paris apartment and the only home I currently had in Paris, was my parents. “The vineyard, I believe while you are still here in Paris.” The vineyard house was a mess and had not been lived in for years. The last time I was inside, the entire thing needed to be remodeled. I thought I better check with Isabella. I let it go, and Pierre kept talking. “Isabella needs security when she goes anywhere while she is still here. Try to keep her at home with you, as

much as possible. I will keep you posted every couple of days with updates. Let me know if there is anything else I can do to help out. Don’t go anywhere without at least two bodyguards while you’re here. They are watching this terrorist group. They are bound to slip up and then we will go in for the kill.” I nodded my head. “I want her to be safe.” “And I want you to be safe too. You’re just as important, Fabrice. You are the French Ambassador, for God’s sake. I will stop by the vineyard and we can see what needs to be done. I’m just glad you’re alive.” Alive. Was I alive or was I just existing? Would I ever be able to live

free again?

Pierre

had not convinced me Isabella would be completely safe. I needed to keep her protected and I needed to be reassured her safety was a top priority on every one’s list, not just mine. While I was in this damn hospital there was nothing I could do. I depended on those two men to look after her and provide her with the security they said they would. That was all I worried about. I

had to get out as soon as possible because, you couldn’t depend on people. Yes, they promised they would take care of things, but when it came right down to it, all you had was yourself. When my parents visited later that afternoon, I asked my father about securing the house. I asked what house we were talking about. He told me he had fixed up the house in the vineyard. The ranch style house was small, but only one floor and the layout would be perfect for me to use while I recovered. “That place needs a lot of work, Dad.” I couldn’t imagine moving in there in the shape the house was in. “Don’t you worry. I have it covered. I want you to concentrate on

getting well.” When my father stepped out to get some coffee, my mother informed me he had been working nonstop to get set up for me. She said she had not seen him so upset in the forty-five years they were married. He was terrified when he heard the news I had been shot. He immediately came to the hospital and demanded to be with me. Outwardly, my dad and I didn’t appear to be close, but there was definitely an unspoken love, not to be shown to the world but to be kept between us. Gustan came by later that afternoon, and I thanked him for saving my life a second time. I don’t know how to repay him. I owed him so much. First,

he was with me when we killed the hostage takers, then he’d saved me from being burned alive, and now he’d saved me from having my head blown off. He will always be considered family to me no matter what. “Shooting the asshole was not hard. All I needed was a clear shot of the bastard. He aimed right at your head. My sharp shooting skills need some brushing up. I didn’t do that good of a job because he hit you in the leg before he went down. I should have shot him first. But, you are alive, and for that I’m happy. “This is the second time you have saved my life, Gustan. I honestly don’t know how to repay you.” Carrying on a

conversation was exhausting. My head was not with it. The constant shot of pain in my leg made me cringe. I broke out in a cold sweat and grit my teeth trying not to show how bad I felt. “You can repay me and name your first son after me. Gustan Arbidoux sounds perfect.” He laughed and touched my shoulder. “Seriously, you would have done the same. When a gun is aimed at my best friend’s head, of course I will react. The attack happened so fast. The gunfire was incredible. Bullets were flying everywhere breaking glass, coffee pots were shattering and the smell of coffee was so strong. Remember that time we came up on gunfire in that little town in

Syria? We were walking along and out of nowhere there were bullets zooming by our heads. That was what it was like, only in a small, enclosed place. There was so much commotion and screaming, it was hard for me to concentrate or react as quickly as I wanted to. Those fucks shot three women. Three women were blown apart for no reason. Those cowards didn’t care about innocent people. Women are nothing to them.” My heart raced at the thought of what happened. I could feel my stomach churn. Their terrifying screams still echoed in my head. “I don’t understand why they couldn’t shoot me and leave them alone.” “That’s what they do. They kill the

innocent to scare and terrorize. They have no fear of death. Human life is nothing to them. One screamed something in another language I couldn’t understand until I heard Ambassador. I knew you were going to be next. I had to protect you. I almost didn’t bring my gun with me that day. Did you know I walked all the way down to your office and turned around to go back and get my gun? Something told me I needed that damn thing. We would both be pushing up daisies right now if I hadn’t. I also still owe you a chocolate croissant.” He smiled again. I didn’t have any reason to smile back. I was desperate to find out more about this boy and his mother. “There

was a boy with his mother. They were going to kill him. The gun was pointed at his head and that’s when I lunged at him. Did he survive?” Why couldn’t someone tell me about this boy? He became serious for a second. “There were no children killed. I will find out about this boy. Do you remember what he looked like?” I gave him the same information as I gave Pierre. “Were any Americans killed?” I asked. “No, one person was from Spain, one from Poland. No Americans were killed, but two were hurt.” “I need to speak to the President.” I had to talk to him and offer my

apologies. This happened because of me. “You will, Fabrice. You will.” Gustan grabbed my shoulder to reassure me that everything was going to be okay. He did this to me once before during the hostage siege when I was injured. I explained to Gustan what I remembered, and he promised he would find out. The boy was small holding onto his mother’s hand and whimpering. He had longer dark hair and a blue back pack on him. I remembered him trying to be brave, but he was so afraid. His whimpers turned to a yell “No,” right before I was shot. Gustan promised he would find out. I knew I could trust him and Pierre to find out. If Gustan says he

was going to do something, he would do it. He sat down next to me in a chair. Talking made me extremely tired. I buzzed the nurse so that she would give me something for pain. She came in right away and injected her concoction into my IV. Soon it would be lights out. I whispered to Gustan so only he and I could hear. “Gustan, listen to me. Pierre said they were sending extra security to the house. That’s fine, but I need you to stay with Isabella. I need to know she is safe and if you are with her she will be. You are the best there is and I want you with her.” I pleaded to him with my eyes. “I don’t think she will like that,

Fabrice. She doesn’t seem to like me much,” he smiled. I ignored the bullshit response. None of this was reason for smiling right now. I didn’t care if Isabella despised him. “Try to follow her without her knowing. Pierre plans on turning my home into Fort Knox, and I want you to focus on her. I want her to know as little as possible.” He nodded his head in agreement and pointed to the armed guard outside my door. “I checked him out; he’s top notch. Try to get some rest while you are here. You need to rest, Fabrice. I will watch Isabella. Your home will be secure, and everything is going to be fine. You don’t have to worry about that.” I didn’t

answer him. Everybody thinks all I have to do is rest. I didn’t want to rest. I needed his reassurance he would take care of her. “Listen to me. This is not about me right now. I want you to promise me she will be okay. You have to do one last thing for me, Gustan.” My eyes became heavy and it was a struggle to keep them open. “Yes. You can count on me, Fabrice. You can always count on me. I will watch over her. I have the situation under control. Now, please stop worrying about everything.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. I felt somewhat better and was able to close my eyes for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~ Later that evening after my parents and Isabella left, I fell in and out of a fitful sleep. When I was awake my thoughts were muddled with memories of that day. Over and over I would picture the blood and the people so scared and pleading for their lives. I couldn’t get the images out of my head. I’d seen worse than that when I was in Special Ops, and none of the killings or brutality bothered me. None of those images or memories kept me up at night. This was different, and I could not shake the images. When I would sleep, I dreamt crazy things. I dreamt my leg was as skinny as a twig and if I stood, my leg would break. I dreamt I had a peg leg,

and the worst was having no leg at all. I was so thirsty, all I wanted was water. My body didn’t feel like my own. Nothing felt right. During the middle of the night I looked down at my chest. My pecs were still muscular and tight. My scars were still prominent across my shoulders. I shoved the blanket to my feet. I wanted to see my leg. I needed to see the damage that had been done. Pushing the button for the nurse, she came right in. “Yes, Ambassador. Are you in pain?” “Can I see my leg? I want to see what the gunshot did to me.” I cringed at the pain in my head. My face was on fire.

“I will call the doctor. Your leg is in a cast right now. You had surgery and the cast is to keep the bone that was broken stable. Is it bothering you?” She tried unsuccessfully to reassure me. I wasn’t buying her excuses. Is it bothering me? What the fuck did she think? “Can’t you take off the cast? I want to see my leg,” I said, through gritted teeth. The damn antiseptic smell of this hospital was pissing me off along with this nurse’s lack of cooperation. I know I had surgery. I’m not a fucking idiot. “Let me call the doctor,” she said, backing out of my room looking at me with a sympathetic expression. If I had the strength, I would have locked the

door and taken the fucking cast off myself. I lay there in the darkness of my own hell. The stark green walls, unfamiliar noises of carts moving up and down the hall, and voices of the medical staff made my attitude worse. Footsteps up and down the hall made me jumpy with fear. Someone brought in a tray of food and I felt like throwing the slop against the wall. I glanced out the window into the black of the night. My room must be on one of the higher floors because I could see the tops of nearby buildings. I imagined the hustle and bustle of the city. People going about their lives, whole and put together. Where was Isabella? She needed to be

safe. I needed to know where she was. I felt hot. My body hurt, and I was so hot. I called for the nurse again. “Yes, Ambassador.” She sounded annoyed with me. I couldn’t fucking care less. I was annoyed with myself. “Where is Isabella?” “Who?” “Isabella.” How many times did I have to say it? My attitude was on high aggressive alert. “Oh, your girlfriend.” I don’t like this woman. She was rude and put off by my questions. “Yes, where is she?” “I believe she went home with your parents to sleep. She said she would be back in the morning.”

I turned away from her and looked out the window. “Is there anything else?” Yes, there was. Go fuck yourself I wanted to say. “Yes, where is my phone? I need my phone to call Isabella.” “I don’t know. I gave your personal belongings to your girlfriend.” That’s just wonderful. How was I supposed to call anyone if I didn’t have my phone with me? She walked over, took my temperature, and checked the lines going into my body. I still had an IV, and a heart monitor. She put a shot of something into my IV. “What was that?” Maybe she was a terrorist and poisoned me? I was going

mad. “Something to help you sleep and you have a slight fever. You need to sleep.” She looked at my tray of food and shook her head. “You also need to eat, Ambassador. You aren’t going to get well if you don’t. Would you like me to have something brought up from the kitchen?” Was she kidding. This wasn’t food. This shit was disgusting. I shook my head no. She said nothing more, grabbed my tray, and left. Good riddance. I had enough of her. Whatever she put in my IV took effect. The fight to keep my eyes open was overcome with sleep. My dreams were

of Isabella. Always of Isabella.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was more aware of where I was. The sight of the armed guard outside my door would not let me forget someone wanted me dead. I looked over and saw my beautiful girl there sitting beside me. She held my hand as I woke up. “Good morning.” Her voice echoed the beauty of her smile. My morning was good now.

Staring into her brown eyes soothed my soul and comforted my agitated state. Isabella was the best medicine there was. “Hello. You look so beautiful and I feel scruffy.” I managed to croak out. The day was overcast and rainy. I heard the rain on the window and saw the big drops trickle down the panes of the glass, but she was my sunshine inside that dreary room. “I like you scruffy.” She reached over and pushed the hair out of my eyes. “You slept for a long time. They were worried you were getting an infection, so they pumped you full of antibiotics and more medicine to keep you asleep. I’m so glad you are up now.

No signs of an infection either. Are you hungry?” God, I was hungry for her. I guess that part of me hadn’t gone to shit. I looked at her neck and pictured my tongue licking my way down to her gorgeous cleavage. My mind wanted her, but my body would not be able to cooperate yet. The soreness of my leg reminded me I was still not capable. Would I ever be able to have her like I was used to? Would I ever be fully recovered to do what I needed to her? I was so helpless in that hospital. I wanted out of there. “I brought your favorite dessert. Your mom said you loved these when you were a little boy.” I sat up and

smelled the coffee in the two cups she sat on the tray in front of me. The scent of freshly brewed, strong black coffee, stirred my appetite. I attempted to sit up and winced. Isabella was quick to assist me. There was an odd whooshing feeling in my head. Sharp stabs of pain went through my leg with each move I tried to make. “What did you bring me?” I asked, plastering a smile on my face to hide my distress. “Mille-feuille. Your mom and I made these last night. Boy, what a job. I think we were up till two in the morning.” I loved hearing she was cooking with my mother. Cooking was her passion and she cooked so well. I

would eat anything she made. Isabella kept talking. “Everything you eat here is filled with butter and cream. If I don’t get home soon, I’m going to weigh four hundred pounds.” She laughed at me as she fed me pieces of the wonderful cream filled pastry. The memories of home dashed through my head as I savored each bite. The smell of this delicious dessert was part of my pleasant childhood. My mom cooked these for me on special occasions or when I was sick, and the smell of butter and cream would be in the air. That memory took me back to better days of youth and innocence. “You really made this?” I asked in between small bites. She fed me, and I

loved the food and the attention. “I did. Well, with the help of your mom. I can’t wait to make this at home for my family. They’ll love this dessert.” She was so alive when she talked about her family and cooking. I loved to see the happiness in her face. “Next we’re making macaroons.” I lifted the cup slowly and carefully sipped my coffee. The cup felt heavy in my hand as I shakily lifted it to my lips. The heat of the beverage going down my insides felt warm and soothing. A nurse walked in, interrupting my moment with my fiancé. “Good morning, Ambassador and Isabella.” She seemed surprised to see the food going into my mouth and gave

Isabella a wink. “I see you’re getting him to eat. The nurse last night said not only wouldn’t he eat, but he was asking for you, and was quite grumpy. Mr. Ambassador, I find that hard to believe. You, grumpy?” she smiled at me and I wanted her to leave me alone with Isabella so we could go back to enjoying the dessert she brought me in private. “Fabrice, be nice to these nurses. They’re making you better so you can come home with me,” Isabella smiled between a soft kiss on my lips. “The doctor will be in soon. Your chart says you are being discharged today. That’s a good thing. You are going to need to get up and walk to this chair

for me with the crutches before I can let you out of here. Whenever you are ready, call me. Enjoy your breakfast first. Is there anything I could get you?” I shook my head, no. Thank God I’m getting out of here. No one told me, or maybe they did and I don’t remember. “I brought you some clothes. Sweats, actually so we can get them over your cast. I remember they told you yesterday about leaving today, but you were so out of it. And yes, we’re going home to the vineyard. Your dad had everything set up for us.” “The vineyard?” “Yes, the house you have there. You asked your dad about the security

last night. He has everything taken care of. I told you about the security system yesterday. We are going to stay there until you get better and can get back to Washington. The house has been cleaned thoroughly, and the electricity and water have been turned on. We had your things taken out of storage and set up your office for you. You can get back to work in a few days and, I’m staying with you until you kick me out,” she laughed. I tried to take all of this into my foggy brain. Some things I couldn’t remember as a dream or actually happening. “You did this in three days?” I asked. “Well, your dad hired people to do this in three days. They worked around

the clock. You wouldn’t believe what went on there. The place was filled with contractors, painters, and security. Your home is so beautiful. I may not ever want to leave.” She smiled at me. I had not been inside the house since my brother stole money from me. The last time I was in there, Celeste was my wife, and we had planned on growing old in that house. We had plans to fill the house with babies and never leave. Now I was going there to convalesce with Isabella. “There have been so many reporters in front of the hospital these past three days. I had to be taken into a secret back entrance. It’s insane, Fabrice. I don’t know how we’re going

to get you out of here. Though, Gustan says he has the security handled.” I have not watched the news in days. I had no idea what was going on outside those four walls. I didn’t even know what day it was or how long I had actually been there. “You’re all the talk. Gustan has been interviewed numerous times Witnesses say you and Gustan were heroes. My mom and dad said the news is all over CNN, and Anderson Cooper is here somewhere broadcasting.” I became somber recalling that day again. I was not a hero. Because of me ten people were killed. “Where is Gustan?” He was supposed to be with her. I gave him

orders to be with her. Where the fuck was he? “He is setting up in the guest house on the vineyard. He’ll be here when we are ready to leave. He said he’s going to stay with us for a while.” I caught her rolling her eyes. She grew quiet and walked to the window to look out. I knew something was on her mind. “Fabrice, there was someone else who insisted on seeing you.” She walked back over to me and sat down on the bed again. Her hand came to sit on my chest over my beating heart. She turned to look at me again. One of the survivors, General Morou, who?

“Who?” I finally asked. “Your brother.” Ice rushed through my body. Fuck. I knew he would take this opportunity to make an appearance. That bastard.

Her

eyes searched my face. A sigh escaped her lips. She knew how I felt about Romain. That bastard only came around when he needed something and that something was usually money. He would pick now to weasel his way back into my life. If I was hurt and the story was on the news, he could use that to get to me. I had not spoken to him in years. When he nearly ruined me and

embezzled money from my winery, I vowed not to speak to him again. However, Isabella changed my feelings for him when I saw how much she loved her family. I had a change of heart when I talked to her about what he did to me. That was until this. “Where is he?” I demanded. “He’s at your parent’s. He arrived there yesterday,” she said, shakily, afraid I would be mad at her for him coming around. “You’ve met him?” She looked away from me and nodded. This bastard Romain was nothing but a playboy with a weakness for women. His grimy ass better not have made a move on Isabella. I would kill him, crippled or not.

“Yes, I met him last night. I was apprehensive to talk to him, but he was extremely nice. He’s different, Fabrice. He’s turned his life around. I had a long talk with him.” “What kind of talk?” I didn’t like the sounds of that. I couldn’t get out of here soon enough. “He told me about himself. I asked him about the time he stole money from you and he admitted he did. He knows embezzling from you was wrong. He’s drug free and working in Rome. He has a fiancé now. She didn’t come with him, but he showed me pictures of her.” I didn’t have anything to say. He’d been married before. I met one of his three wives. She was a prostitute or a

stripper from God knows where. I’m sure this new fiancé was as bad. “You don’t have to see him right now. He isn’t coming up here. Your parents told him to stay away until you were ready.” That was a relief. I might never be ready. “How is Mamma?” My poor mother was up at my bedside many times. Her and Isabella would take turns each day sitting with me. I know this had to be hard on her. I had to tell her to go home and get some rest a few times and she would refuse until Isabella came back. I remember her talking to me when I was in and out of consciousness, holding my hand and praying.

“She’s doing better since you’re better. She’s been helping me get the house ready and of course, we have been baking. She’s there now cooking your favorite meals. You are quite the spoiled boy, Fabrice.” My Isabella smiled at me again. Her eyes looked dark with the strain of exhaustion. I wondered how she saw me now. Did she see I was a beaten down man or was I still her hero? Did she see someone she was expected to take care of? As If she could read my mind, she said, “Let’s get you up and walking, Fabrice. I want to get you home and take care of you. I will help you get dressed, and we are going to get you to that chair. I know I want to sleep with you and

snuggle up to you tonight in your bed. I want to feed you, massage you, and take away your pain. Only you and me tonight in that big vineyard of yours and after all of this, doesn’t that sound amazing?” God, it did. The last time she and I were at the vineyard, I poured hot candle wax on her body outside under the stars. That was the same night I had proposed to her. Our lives were so filled with promises and future plans. Would I still be the same man? Would our lives still be filled with plans for the future? I hated to have Isabella help me get dressed. She took so much care in not hurting me as she eased my arms through the shirt and was so careful pulling up my pants. I felt like an eighty-year old

helpless man or like a bystander watching from a distance. I hated to depend on anyone to help me. I never depended on anyone. The doctor came in and told me I had a long and hard road ahead of me to get back to the shape I was before the shooting, but he was optimistic I would be able to make a full recovery. I would need physical therapy every day, and I would remain on more antibiotics and pain medication for a while. I had to stay put in Paris for three months so they could monitor my leg and my progress in healing. He told me I would be able to resume sexual activity as soon as I felt comfortable. That’s fine, but he had no idea the type of sexual activity I

enjoyed? I highly doubted it. Once again he told me I was lucky to be alive and could put this behind me soon. I doubted that too. I’m not the same man. I didn’t say that to him, willing to portray myself as anything other than the strong, confident Ambassador. I took the crutches and willed myself to walk to the chair and get the hell out of there. The first step was the hardest. As soon as I stood up I was lightheaded and the pain in my leg shot through to my foot. However, I had a lot of eyes on me and that was motivation enough. Sweat covered my body and every nerve inside me throbbed from the pain. Isabella walked beside me ready to grab me if I fell. To see the concern in

her eyes hit me hard, how weak I was. I was no longer Fabrice Arbidoux, but the shell of the man I use to be. I was a disappointment. No longer the Special Ops hero or the tough invincible guy. I had an injury that screamed I was weak; I couldn’t look weak. The only thing I had to worry about was making sure Isabella was safe. I had to get stronger in order to make sure she would be safe. I’m not the weak one. I’m the strong one, in charge, leading the way into battle. I might not be myself right now, but I would do everything I could to be the man I used to be and maybe a little tougher. No, this was not going to break me. This was going to make me stronger. I had an angel to protect.

Getting out of the hospital was a feat in itself. There were reporters from everywhere standing around waiting for a glimpse of me. Gustan had to sneak me out through the basement in a wheelchair with a towel covering my head. It was like we were on a covert operation again. We managed to speed off undetected by the paparazzi. By the time we made our way home, I was exhausted

and my leg screamed in pain. The hour long ride from Paris to the vineyard gave me the opportunity to try and sleep, but I couldn’t. Every bump made me cringe and a shot a pain tore through my leg. Isabella was snuggled up against me as she slept soundly. I didn’t want to wake her so I bit my lip to keep from screaming out in agony as I watched her looking peaceful and content. There was now a guard at the entrance to the vineyard. My dad had a small building put up for him by the entrance to the drive. He was big, mean looking, and very serious about his job. His name was Marcos, and he assured me no one would be allowed past him without clearance. He told me Gustan

handpicked him for the job, and served in the Special Ops Brigade as a commander. That was a good sign. I felt safer after talking to him. I told him I would be down to see him soon and go over a few things. The long, dusty, dirt road led to my vineyard with my small house far in the back of the property. Seeing the house in the distance, I realized I had missed the place. The peacefulness and acres of green grass made me feel comforted. I peered out the window to marvel in the rows and rows of grapevines just now growing. The sun was setting and cast a pink hue over the property I fell in love with as a young boy. My parent’s house was close by and I grew up riding my

bike out to the vineyards to sit and read. I knew then the vineyard would be mine one day and at a young age, I vowed to buy the property. The house was beautiful and nearly unrecognizable when I walked in. Isabella put her touch of decorating inside and rearranged the furniture differently than it had been in the past. The house was painted, cleaned, and remodeled. I loved how the interior looked with a French country cottage feel. A state of the art security system was installed as my dad had promised. Compared to my home in D.C. and my parents’ home, this house could fit in either of them twice. The house was small but opened and airy and perfect

for the two of us. I always loved this house and missed living on the vineyard. My home was so peaceful and comfortable I instantly felt tired and wanted to sleep. I took a hot shower with Isabella helping to keep my leg out of the water. Isabella fed me some delicious food my mother had prepared earlier, but I was too exhausted to eat more than a few bites. She and I went to lie down on my bed. She snuggled next to me and the softness of her body and her familiar scent lulled me to relax completely for the first time in days. I was instantly asleep. I was seeped in the warmth of the French sunshine as I opened my eyes. I had tried not to take pain pills, but the

first night home was quite excruciating. Isabella gave me a pain pill to ease my discomfort in the middle of the night and allow me to get some rest. She slept next to me all night. I gazed at the perfect form of a woman under my blankets with her back to me. Her hair splayed over my pillows and I couldn’t help but snuggle closer to her. Maybe, I was a lucky man. She was naked under those blankets. Before the accident, we made up a silly rule we would not go to bed dressed. She’d had a hard time with the idea of not wearing clothes and took some convincing, but afterward she accepted that she slept much better and enjoyed being more easily accessible to each other. The thought of anyone hurting

an inch of her made the anger boil inside me. I needed to see Gustan to go over what I wanted done to keep her safe. But, at that moment I wanted to keep her satisfied. My hand roamed under the covers to caress her warm, soft body. Touching her made me burn with passion and want. Her love for me was more than I deserved. I became instantly hard when I felt the swell of her hips and the dip at her. My need for her coursed through my veins. She was the other part of me I never knew I needed until I had her. Isabella moaned and I caught a smile on her sleepy face. “Good morning.” I whispered in her ear, trying to ignore the pain in my

leg as I turned over on my side. “Well, good morning to you, Ambassador. Did you sleep well, finally?” “Better. The pain pill helped and knowing you were next to me was relaxing.” “I feel something else has woken up,” she laughed and snuggled up to me. She buried her face in my neck, and her hand went to my throbbing cock. “I’m back, and I want you.” “Are you sure you’re up for this? I can wait till you are healed, Fabrice.” The night before I wanted to be inside her, but she was too worried sex would hurt me. She insisted on sucking me off instead, and I agreed hoping an orgasm

would get me to sleep. The blow job didn’t help me sleep, but her mouth felt fucking amazing. “We’ll go slow and easy,” I groaned, getting more aroused by the second. My cock ached to be inside her. My hands found the spot I knew so well, warm, wet, and bare. The feeling of her was almost as wonderful as the first time I touched her there. She was made for me. My finger went inside her and she gasped. I made some sort of moaning sound of my need. “You like that?” I asked, half smiling. Christ, her pussy was so tight and yet so perfectly wet. I had to be balls deep in her soon, or I would come.

She nodded, and I nuzzled my face between her breasts taking in her scent and feeling the warmth of her flesh. “Touch your breasts for me, baby,” I moaned. I loved watching her touch herself in front of me. Her hand went up to her perfect mounds and instantly her nipples hardened under her fingertips. With my hand inside her sweet pussy, I could feel her get wetter as she squirmed under me. I plunged my fingers in and out of her deeper as she dug her heels into the bed and arched her back. She urged me to push into her deeper when she did this. Fuck, this was amazing. “I want you so bad, Isabella.” “Fabrice.” The throaty need in her voice always turned me on.

I pushed her legs farther apart and she moaned louder guiding my hand to push farther into her. The warmth of her cunt made my stomach clench. My chest heaved as I began to breathe heavier. I felt the warm wetness drip on the tip of my cock. I wasn’t going to last long. I needed to have her come before I did. “How do you want to do this?” she moaned. Since the gunshot wound was in my thigh and the cast was up high, we had not considered her getting on top so soon. That was her favorite position and she went crazy when she did. That morning all I wanted was to have her straddle me. I would work through the pain to have her legs wrapped around

my waist and watch her breasts bounce up and down. “Straddle me.” I groaned, shifting my body and laying on my back. The cast felt like my leg weighed a hundred pounds. “I’ll be gentle, baby,” she whispered. I could see the lust and need was in her heavily lidded eyes. Closing my eyes, praying the pain would not be so bad, I let her straddle my waist. Each move brought a small shot of pain through my leg. I had to force myself to let the agony go so I could feel the softness of her cunt sliding over my cock. Being careful to hold her weight off me, she lifted my cock up not taking

her eyes off mine. Oh God, what a view I had. I put a pillow behind my head to watch as she lifted herself up and sat down on me slowly. That first glide of my cock inside her warm pussy was the best. Her wet swollen lips took me in one sweep. She sat down on my cock and my eyes immediately rolled back in my head. Her hands touched her breasts as she moved up and down slowly and carefully. I knew what she wanted. She needed to rub her clit to get off. I reached down and let my thumb press on her. Her clit was swollen, needy and pulsating. “Oh God. That feels so good,” she groaned. Fuck, the clenching sent me to a

place of no return. The pain was still there in the distance as I enjoyed taking her inch by inch. My cock would not hold off too much longer. I needed her to come. The pain began to get intense. I prayed a short prayer that the discomfort would not get in the way of my orgasm. “Come for me. That’s my girl, let it go. You are so wet for me, Isabella. So warm and wet.” I knew her inside and out and knew she was going to come. Mine was still building and hearing her still enjoy what I had to offer brought me closer to an orgasm. I pushed up harder into her. Her head was thrown back and her back arched. I grabbed on to her ass with one

hand to guide her into rubbing her clit against me harder. I felt resistance as if she wanted to make the pleasure last longer. I wasn’t going to last much longer. Her hands slid off her breasts and across my chest and she clenched around my cock. The pain was fierce and I kept going and when she made that familiar sound I let myself ride through the orgasm as we came together. “Fabrice,” she moaned as she thrashed against me. I felt my selfconfidence coming back a bit. I closed my eyes and enjoyed possessing her, feeling her give me what I needed and feeling her relax against me. I held her close to me as she came

down from her orgasm. God, I loved her more than anything in my life. She melted in my arms and snuggled close to me. My leg was slightly pounding, but I wouldn’t let her know. Never would I let her know making love to her caused me discomfort; the pain was worth it. “Fabrice, I’m so happy you are alive and I’m with you. You are my everything.” “My sweet girl.” I kissed her on the top of her head. “You are what kept me going in the hospital. You were on my mind even in my drug induced dreams.” She laughed. “What’s so funny?” I asked. “That made me laugh. I love being

here with you.” “I’m keeping you from your life and your family.” “You are my life and my family is not going anywhere. They want me to take care of you. Though Aunt Fina volunteered to give you a sponge bath,” She laughed again. “You need to be working on your future and building your career, not being a nurse maid to a cripple.” She sat up in bed and furrowed her brow. I noticed she did this whenever she didn’t like what I said. “My career can wait. You are certainly not crippled and I’m using this time to bake more and learn everything I can about the art of pastry and real

gourmet cooking. So actually, this is more like extended school in Paris only better because I’m with the man I love.” “Don’t put your life on hold for me. Promise me you won’t.” Her happiness seemed to fade as she carefully lifted off me and sat beside me. I wish I had not said anything. She sat up with a determined look in her eyes, crossed her arms and said, “My life is you. You are the best part of my life. To know you could have died and I would not be with you again did something to me. When I arrived back home and heard what happened on the news and I was so far away, I vowed if you lived I would not be away from you like that again. I still don’t know why

you love me, but I’m working through that. I know why I love you and as long as you are alive and want me, I will always be here for you. My career is not going anywhere. I will get there. What I want you to do now is just get up in the morning. You don’t have to worry about anything else, Fabrice. I will take care of the rest until you are strong again.” She let out a deep breath. Jesus, if she could see what I saw when I looked at her. How perfect she was in every way. How could I ever repay her for her love? I would work the rest of my life to make her happy. “Isabella, you are something else.” “I know, right?” ~~~~~~~~~~~

That afternoon when Isabella drove to the market, I insisted a bodyguard go with her. She tried to argue with me on the issue, however I won that argument. I would have sent Gustan,, but I needed to talk to him. He spent a lot of time with the guard at the gate and making sure he was doing his job. I wanted him to know I was serious about watching over Isabella, and not worrying about the fucking guard. I had told him earlier I wanted to talk to him when Isabella left. I needed to make sure he could handle the job of protecting my girl and that he didn’t forget our conversation in the hospital. It was safe to say, I was obsessed. I was in the kitchen attempting to

make coffee when he came in. “Hey, can we talk now?” he asked, sticking his head in the door. “Yes, come on in.” Resembling every bit of a body guard dressed in all black and wearing his sunglasses, if I didn’t know him, I would be intimidated by his appearance. He rushed in when he saw me struggling to make coffee. “Here, let me do that for you. My God, Fabrice, trying to make coffee on crutches.” “No one can make the coffee exactly as I like.” I watched him roll his eyes and shake his head. “You’re a real pisser, aren’t you? Well, while you are in this condition, you’ll drink the coffee the way I make it

and like it.” He thought that was funny. I sat down and waited for the coffee to brew. Once the coffee brewed, he poured a cup for both of us and sat down across from me. I tasted it and said nothing. Not as good as I would have made, but it would do. “So, what do you want to talk about, Fabrice?” Gustan asked. “I wanted to make sure you can protect Isabella if something happens. Remember, we talked about this when I was in the hospital. Can you handle keeping her safe?” “I can, but my main job is to keep you safe.” Christ how many times did I have to go over this with him. His answers were starting to piss me off.

“I want you to forget about me. I can handle anything that happens to me. I can use one of those other monkeys they sent over. My main concern is Isabella. Now, I know these fucks don’t let this kind of thing go. They will keep on till they kill me or we annihilate them. Until something is done permanently I’m still in danger and if I’m in danger, so is anyone around me. He sipped his coffee making a loud slurping noise. He was mammoth sitting at the table with a coffee cup that looked cartoonish small in his giant hand. I shot him a warning glance that I meant what I said about watching Isabella. He was good at what he did and I wouldn’t have anyone else at the house protecting her.

Hell, he just saved my life, but what I say goes and he needed to know that. He stood and brought the coffee pot over and poured us another cup. I kept my eyes glued to his and made my point. “I mean what I’m saying, Gustan. I would have had you go with her today to the market, but my mom went with her and I don’t think she will be hurt down the road so I let one of the other guys go.” He nodded his head toward me. “What do you want me to tell Pierre when he asks me why I’m with Isabella and not you?” Pierre had insisted Gustan stay on as my bodyguard. I agreed to his security because I was jacked up on pain pills and figured I

could use him to keep Isabella safe. “I will handle Pierre. I want you to follow Isabella whenever she goes somewhere. Don’t let her out of your sight when she isn’t here. Promise me, Gustan. If something happened to her I would not care to live and I will take you with me.” I slammed my coffee cup down hard to make a point. He nodded his head and slurped his coffee. I noticed the gun under his leather jacket in the holster. It was the same gun that killed those fucking bastards in the coffee shop. “Keep that gun with you when you are following her.” I caught his eye and he understood that I meant what I said. “All right, Fabrice. I will do what

you want.” I pulled myself up with my crutches and awkwardly made my way past him to my office. He followed me with our coffees in his hands. “You don’t have to hang out with me all day. You know I have important work to do.” I turned to him. He smiled at me. “I’m hanging with you for a while. I’ll be quiet. I want to see what you do in that office as the Ambassador. I want to see how you interact with these important world leaders. Do you ever talk to the President?” I gestured at a chair in front of my desk. I considered him more of a brother than a friend. I owed him so much. I didn’t mind if he wanted to hang out with

me for a while. I could use the company. “I talk to both the French and American Presidents,” I shrugged, no longer impressed by who I answered to. “it’s not a big deal.” “Nice view.” My office window looked out into the vast vineyard. Thankfully, it wasn’t grape growing season so there were no workers at the property. That would have been a whole other set of security issues. “Yes, this view is why I bought this property. I forgot how much I loved being out here. Are you settled into the guest house?” I never asked him if he was comfortable there. “It’s perfect. So quiet and peaceful. Your dad did a wonderful job

fixing the house up for me.” “My parents are amazing.” I couldn’t help but take in Gustan as he stretched out his long legs in from of me. I noticed he wore the same thing most days. His Jeans, combat boots, t-shirt, and leather coat were all black and not fashionable, but it was Gustan and I was used to seeing him dressed like that. He had the whole badass bodyguard vibe going right down to wearing mirrored sunglasses inside and out and sometimes in the evenings. I would have to remind him he was wearing them. As close as we were, I never discussed his personal life with him. He had a few girlfriends here and there, but I’ve only known him to get serious with one girl. His

intimidating massiveness probably scared away most women. “Hey, this is none of my business but, how is your woman situation, Gustan?” I’ve known Gustan for fifteen years and I had never asked him about his personal life. He seemed to get nervous, set his coffee down on my desk and stood up pacing my office. I’d hit on something. “Why do you ask?” “I just wanted to know. You might get lonely out here in the vineyard. I wanted to know if you were dating or maybe I could fix you up with someone. I didn’t know if maybe you were in a relationship or looking. We never talked about that.” He laughed nervously.

“I don’t talk about my personal life, Fabrice because it’s pretty painful. No one wants to hear my sob story.” “Well, let’s forget I asked.” I wish I hadn’t mentioned his personal life. I turned on my computer to get the day started. “No, since you brought it up I’ll tell you. I was married to my high school sweetheart. We were in love or at least I thought we were. When she found out I was leaving for Syria, she decided she want to be married to someone who wasn’t there for her all the time. I let her go, and she found someone else. I was crushed, but managed to crawl through the unending heartache.” “Did you ever see her again?” I

asked. This was the only time I noticed Gustan fidgeting. “Two years ago I met her again and we rekindled our romance. Our life was incredible. I was in love and happy again.” “Where is she now?” He looked away from me and I saw a different side of Gustan. He actually showed emotion when he talked about this so called girl. I had never met her or knew she existed. He stood up and walked to the window in my office “She was killed in a head on collision last year. I never talked about the accident to anyone. I think you remember last year when I took the leave from the office? I took time off

because of her accident. I didn’t want you to think I was weak, so I didn’t tell you. I worked through the torment. We were making plans to get married again, Fabrice. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I’m not over her. I don’t know if I ever will be. The worst part, she was three months pregnant when she was killed. So, right now, I don’t want a woman, either for a night or a relationship.” He stood at the window looking out. I managed to get up and walk to him. I slapped him on the shoulder. Thinking about what he must have gone through, I remembered losing my wife and thinking what hell I would live in if I lost Isabella. I looked down, imagining my life

without Isabella. How devastated I would be if she was gone. “I’m sorry, Gustan. I didn’t mean to bring up something so painful. We will leave our personal business from now on at the door. Let me know when you want to get back into the dating scene.” “I will, Fabrice.” He laughed at me and walked out. “Gustan?” He stopped and turned around in the doorway. “Thank you again for what you did. I’m forever indebted to you.” He nodded. “I’ll told you, name your first son after me and we will be even.” We both laughed as he walked out.

Shortly

after three in the afternoon, I heard the sound of cars crunching on the gravel road up to the house. We had been home for about a week before I felt well enough for visitors. Isabella thought family would help my constant irritation over the smallest things, my depression of being injured, and my sudden need to be left alone. I had finished up a call with the Angolian Prime Minister who

planned a visit to D.C when I knew we were about to be invaded by company. I saw the cars coming up the long gravel drive in the distance. Two cars to be exact and one I recognized as my parents. I was in need of a pain pill and a nap, and not exactly in the mood to play host, but having company would give me a good excuse to open a new bottle of wine and drown my sorrows. I could hear Isabella laughing and welcoming my mom and dad at the door. That made me smile for a second and I pulled myself up on my crutches to go and greet them when I heard another voice. I heard my brother’s voice. The voice was one I had not heard in a while and hoped to

not hear again. The last time I heard that voice, he was trying to justify stealing thousands of dollars from me. What the fuck? I didn’t approve of his visit. I had no idea he was coming over. I was not prepared for his ass to be there. I decided not to open up the wine. I wasn’t going to waste a good bottle of wine on him. I called for Isabella to come to my office before I went to greet them. She walked in immediately, smiling. “What’s wrong, baby?” she asked. That day she had on ripped jeans, an oversized sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. To me, she

was perfect and more beautiful than ever. I couldn’t imagine another man having her the way I should be. She was mine. “Why is he here?” I growled. He made my blood boil knowing he set foot on my vineyard again. How he had the balls to walk in this house was beyond me. “I told you yesterday. You said dinner was fine. I even double checked to make sure you were okay with your brother coming.” She looked at me worried I was angry with her. I don’t remember her asking me. The days were blending together, pain, work, sweat, sleep. Unable to keep the anger from my

voice, I took a deep breath to gather my thoughts. I hobbled over to her on my crutches. I leaned over and kissed the top of her head. I shouldn’t have raised my voice to her like that. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I don’t want him here. I don’t want him on this vineyard or near you.” “Fabrice, you need to stop taking so many pain pills. I made sure yesterday you were okay with this and you said dinner was fine. What is wrong with you lately? I don’t have the patience for this. I can handle him.” She was giving me shit, and I liked when she did. I admired that she never cowered from telling me what she thought I needed to hear.

She pushed away from me and gazed into my eyes. “I have been cooking for them all morning. Who do you think I was cooking for?” She spoke in a whisper so no one would hear us. I nodded my head toward the bedroom so she would follow me. I wanted to make myself more presentable for the guests and I needed her help. What I wanted was to make myself vanish. I didn’t want my brother to see me weak in any way. Him coming over here now while I was still not up to par, didn’t sit well with me. She was right, something was wrong with me that I kept forgetting things. I needed to knock off the pain pills. They made me too drowsy. I could

force myself to get through this without them. I grabbed a clean pair of sweats and a white oxford from my closet. “Will you help me with these sweats?” I sighed, annoyed with myself. I didn’t let anyone help me other than Isabella. Her face showed me so much love even after I had yelled at her. My phone buzzed on my dresser. A text from Gustan. Meeting in the am. I’ll be there at 7. Fuck, what now? Maybe he found out who was in the coffee shop that day. I’d had him search for the child I tried to save from the terrorist. “Is everything okay?” Isabella asked me as she helped me pull up my

pants. I still had to wear sweats over my leg. Her gaze locked onto mine. I held her hands in my hands and kissed her fingers. “Yes, everything is fine. I love you.” I said to her. God did I love her. “I love you. Now let’s go eat and please be nice,” she murmured, straightening my shirt and brushing my hair out of my eyes. “You want a sweater?” She knew that since this happened, I froze all the time. Like a fucking eighty-year-old man, I needed a sweater. “No, I’m fine. Thank you for helping me. I like you dressed like this,” I said looking her over.

“I like to dress like this. It’s me.” “I like you better in a dress, though, with nothing under but your bare pussy.” I grinned as I recalled the night of our engagement and I brought her to the vineyard for the first time. How I’d eased the soft dress up her body and took it off her… the hot candle wax I’d dripped across her perfectly toned thighs and stomach. She loved the hot wax and had been asking when we would do that again. “How about when our guests leave? I could put one on and we head out to the vineyard. I bought a bunch of candles.” She smiled up at me wickedly. She knew me well and read what was on my mind. I didn’t get a chance to answer

because I heard Romains obnoxious mouth echoing in the kitchen. “Hey, little brother. Are you coming out?” His voice made me cringe. I kissed my girl one more time and hobbled down the hall to the kitchen with my crutches. My eyes shifted from my mom and dad to Romain standing by the door, his arms crossed, his hair now short. He looked a lot older, with lines in his etched in his face. I wanted to keep my distance, but he was not going to allow that. He walked up to me and kissed me on both cheeks. “Romain,” I said. My face was expressionless. I didn’t know how I felt. I tried to forget what he did to me. Isabella told me he was sorry and he

was a new man. I didn’t know how to read him yet. Isabella also didn’t know him like I did. She believed in the good in everyone, even this idiot. After a while of being around him I would be able to tell if he was still taking drugs. I always knew when he was using. His voice changed, and his expressions were different when he was high. Over the years I had grown accustomed to his differences straight and fucked up. I hoped I could still tell. “Fabrice, it’s so good to see you.” I didn’t answer. My eyes bore into him, taking in his demeanor. I hobbled over to my mom and dad and greeted them. My mom was crying. She took my face in her hands and kissed

me. “My baby boy. I’m so glad you two are in the same room. This is so wonderful,” she whispered in my ear. That’s when I knew what I was doing was for someone else and not myself. “Come on and let’s sit down outside. Isabella has been cooking all morning.” I limped over to her. “The house smells wonderful,” I said nuzzling her ear. I whispered “Well pick up our previous conversation about the candles when everyone leaves.” She smiled not looking at me. She and my mom busied themselves in the kitchen and the rest of us went to sit out in the backyard. The day was beautiful and I loved to be

outside on sunny days. The sun felt welcoming on my sore body. “Can I get some drinks for everyone?” my dad asked. “Water for me, Dad,” Romaine answered. “Fabrice?” “A coffee would be wonderful, Dad, thank you.” I was so groggy from working all morning and needed to wake up to deal with this family reunion. I needed caffeine in my body as soon as possible. My dad walked back into the kitchen and I could see him kiss my mom and hug Isabella from where I sat. “So, how are you feeling?” Romain asked. He faced me with his same dark and tortured eyes.

“I’m fine. Not like I was, but I will get there. All those years in Special Ops and I get shot in a coffee shop.” “You had Mamma beside herself. I’ve never seen her so upset. When I heard there was an attack on Paris, I never dreamed you would be involved. I thought you were in Washington.” “I travel back and forth quite a bit.” “The news won’t let the attack rest. They were calling Mamma and Dad yesterday trying to find out where you are.” “They are hounding Isabella as well. She’s not used to this.” “She’s an amazing girl, Fabrice.” The temperature in my face shot up.

“Yes, she is.” I was exhausted, but I wasn’t going to make this easy for him to saunter back into my life as if nothing happened. “Congratulations on the engagement,” he said. I pulled my shoulders back to show him I was still the Ambassador and still pissed at what he did to me. “Thanks. I’m blessed she said yes. Congratulations on yours. Isabella said you’re getting married, too.” “Yes, Andrea. She is a wonderful woman. She keeps me grounded. Listen, I wanted to say this for a while now. I hope you will let me?” Romain asked, as he gripped the arms of the chair he sat in.

My dad walked outside and handed us our drinks and walked back inside again. I took a sip of my steaming coffee. The coffee tasted perfect. Romain took a long sip of his water and stared at his glass. “I want you to know I’m truly sorry for what I did to you. I know you probably won’t forgive me. I probably wouldn’t forgive me for embezzlement if I were you.” He hesitated, waiting for me to respond. I didn’t. My eyes bore in to him. I wasn’t going to be easy on him. He was going to work for my forgiveness. “I know you hate me. I could feel the tension as soon as you looked at me. What I did to you was pathetic, I know.

I’ve received help, met a wonderful woman, and I’m working now. I don’t ever want to go back to that lifestyle again. I hope you know that.” Still I did not respond. I used my techniques I learned in Special Ops to intimidate him. He was uncomfortable and groveling for my forgiveness, and that is exactly what I wanted. “I hope you can forgive me, Fabrice.” I decided to speak now that he was done. “This time last year, I would have bodily thrown you out of my home. I had no intentions of ever seeing you again, nor did I want to. Now that I have been with Isabella, I have a different outlook

on what you did. She’s taught me to forgive. But, you’ll understand if I’m still leery of you. “She’s a wonderful girl.” He smiled. I wanted to punch him for saying that a second time. “I’d appreciate it if you left her alone.” I said, sternly. “Come on, Fabrice. I’m getting married.” He finished off his glass of water and set the glass down on the grass. I noticed his hands shook a bit. I didn’t know if his shaking was because he needed a fix or he had some damage done from the drugs. He was wearing designer clothes and Gucci shoes, I’m sure my mother purchased them for him to come here.

“Trying to take my woman didn’t stop you before,” I said not taking my eyes off him. I remember the time I walked in on him getting too close to Celeste, making her uncomfortable. “Well, I was messed up. You know that. Those days are behind me. I have made a change Fabrice and I know you don’t believe me, but I have. Later, I would like you to meet Andrea. I met her in Rome last year and she has helped me become a better man.” I ignored him, trying to think of ways to get her last name out of him. I had met so many women he said were turning his life around I didn’t care to meet another. “Where is she from?” then before he answered I thought of something else.

He dated another Andrea when he was in college. I remembered her name. “This isn’t Andrea Montinique from college?” He looked at me shocked I remembered. He was so in love with her then. We thought for sure he would marry this girl. He nervously chuckled. “No, this is not her. Andrea Noir is from Paris but was born in England.” Yes, he fell for the trap. He was so easy. I made a mental note to remember her name and have Gustan look her up later. “You know I can tell if you’re using. I always could. Your face gives you away. Don’t think you can come back into my life and buffalo me again. This time I will kill you. I will give you

one more chance because of Mamma and Dad, but if you fuck with me again, you will regret you ever stepped foot back in this house.” I responded. I had to get him to shut up. I fought off the urge not to lunge at him and beat the shit out of him. Looking at him put me in a worse mood and one I didn’t care to be in. The last thing I cared about was if my brother and I were on good terms or who his latest fuck was. My main concern was getting well so I could be the man I used to be. “I understand, and another chance is all I ask. I want you to know I’m different now. I guess the love of a good woman can do that to you.” I shrugged. How right he was, though. The

love of Isabella was so strong she could make me lose my mind if I didn’t have her. I looked in the kitchen and watched her interact with my mother. How beautiful to see the two of them laughing and cooking. My two favorite girls in my life together taking care of me. I may not be much of a man, but I had enough to make me happy. Isabella was a gift. Romain shifted in his chair. I loved seeing him nervous. “You’re so angry, Fabrice. You have to let the shit go. It’s not good for you to keep holding grudges and being pissed off.” Was he seriously trying to provoke me? He had no idea the rage I had pent up inside me waiting to come out. I grabbed onto the arms of my chair and

pulled myself up. I had to get away from him before I ruined the night. “You get shot with a high powered gun by some fucking terrorist and see if you aren’t pissed off.” I walked off and into the kitchen. I would be glad when this fucking night was over with. ~~~~~~~~~~~ I had been home now for almost two months. My leg was still killing me when I woke up in the mornings. I tried to sleep with my leg propped on a pillow, and during the night I moved, and the pillow must have fallen, and it was now on the floor. My Isabella wasn’t in bed with me like I was used to. Where was she? I rolled over to find a note she had left me with my various medications

I took each day. Went for a run. Be back to make you breakfast. Coffee in urn. Luv you tons, Izzy. I was aware of the silence in the room. I was never alone anymore. It was nice just to be. I heard Gustan down the hall. I’d forgotten about the meeting we were to have that morning. The knock on my bedroom echoed in the silence as I made an attempt to get my sorry ass out of bed. The pain shot through my leg as I reached for my crutches and pulled myself up. “Come on in, Gustan.” I yelled so he could hear me through the door. I was naked except for the cast on my leg. I

didn’t care. Gustan had seen me this way before. “Wild night I see.” He smiled at me and tried not to look. If he knew how wrong, he was. Those nights were over for the time being. I made love to Isabella, but the sex was far from wild. “I need to go get this cast off this morning and then I have to go to the Embassy for a while.” “Then it’s a good day, Fabrice. No more cast. You’re getting better every day.” I shrugged. I was getting better, but not fast enough. “Why did you want to meet me this morning?” His message sounded urgent. He had a manila envelope with him. “You wanted your brother

followed. I have been having him followed. Take a look at this” I had finished getting my sweats on and was putting on my white oxford. I pulled out a pair of dress pants and a tie. I threw them at Gustan. “Here, I want you to bring these. Once this cast comes off these sweats are going in the trash.” “Back to the suit and tie again. I see things are improving.” He smiled at me and folded my pants carefully and set my tie on top. “Let’s go to my office and then give me the bad news.” I knew what he was about to tell me. My brother was still on drugs. I didn’t want Isabella to know I had him watched. She would

have been pissed I had not trusted him. I asked him to get us a cup of coffee on the way. Once we were in the office, I shut the doors and sat down behind my desk. Gustan put my folded pants down on the chair and slid the envelope in front of me. I pulled out a black and white snapshot of my brother. The picture was taken in Rome by someone Gustan had hired to follow him. Something that was completely normal. Romain leaving his office and walking home. I pulled out another one and this picture was of him shopping at the local market. Another showed him and his girlfriend walking arm and arm. There were some Gustan had taken of Romain in France. Nothing I could find

that looked out of the ordinary. To my shock there wasn’t any. I looked at pictures of Romain going to work and to dinner with a plain looking tall woman. There was nothing in there that pointed to him using drugs again. I put the pictures back in the envelope and looked at Gustan shoving the envelope across my desk. “He may have changed.” I said sipping my coffee. “The guy I hired to follow him in Rome said he didn’t see anything other than him going to and from his work and eating out at night. “I may have you do this again in a few months. He can go off the wagon and then get back on the wagon

repeatedly. I’ve seen this before. I don’t know? Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on him but he hasn’t been the best brother. He told me the name of his girlfriend, Andrea Noir. Can you dig up some information on her for me? I want to be sure Isabella and my parents are safe. I have no idea who this woman is and I would feel more comfortable knowing she checks out. I may sound paranoid, but I still don’t trust him.” Gustan wrote her name down on in a small notebook he kept in his shirt pocket. “You have a right to be suspicious, Fabrice. He fucked you over, and you didn’t know until it was too late. I don’t blame you. Yeah, let me know if you want him followed again. In the

meantime, I will see if anything comes up on her.” He looked at his watch and started to get up. “We better get going. Is Isabella coming with us?” he asked “No, because I’m going to the Embassy right after for a couple of hours.” “She’s safe right now, Fabrice. I sent two guys to follow her while she is out running, and while I take you today. They are two of my best. I’m on top of everything.” “You better make sure she is being watched. I’ll text her on our way.” We left my office and headed to the doctor’s office. Thank God this fucking cast was coming off. My doctor smiled when he

came in to remove it. “I think you are happy for today, Fabrice.” “You have no idea. This has been a nightmare to say the least.” My thigh itched, the cast was heavy, and I wanted to take a shower like a normal person. I was still in pain and could not put much weight on my leg after they sawed the cast off. I was officially a freak. The doctor assured me the strength in my leg would get better in time and the size would eventually increase, but probably not be as big as my other leg. The scar would be there permanently along with a slight limp to remind me of the day for the rest of my life. I needed to continue my

physical therapy to strengthen my leg every day. The pain would eventually go away, the doctor promised, but not completely. He kept reassuring me how lucky I was to be alive. They were cutting off my prescription pain pills and prescribed a high dose of ibuprofen. “You came out of this incident better than most would. It was a pleasure and an honor taking care of you, Ambassador.” “Thank you Doctor, for everything. I will not forget that you saved my life.” I tried to sound optimistic. I stood up and shook his hand. He told me I could get back to the United States within a month after my last follow up appointment. I didn’t want to go back. I

was comfortable where I was. I had a lot of thinking to do. I liked my life at the vineyard with only Isabella and me. “You’re lucky, Ambassador. Things could have turned out very different for you. I have seen people with these gun shots lose limbs, get infections, and die. You surpassed all our expectations.” I sighed, knowing he was right. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Hearing those words, I knew I was lucky. This whole situation could have turned out so much worse. I wanted to let the whole staff at the hospital know how grateful I was for them saving my life. I went to the unit where I stayed after my surgery and

thanked everyone individually including that nurse I wasn’t too fond of. Hell, she was doing her job, and I had been being an all-out asshole. She was receptive and forgiving when I apologized for my behavior. I walked out of there with my head held high and feeling almost like my old self again.

Our

life was amazing on the vineyard and perfect for me to recuperate. I got used to the security and the press had not found out where I was yet. On the weekends, my family was there and we had Sunday dinners like Isabella was used to. She would cook so much food and we would sit outside and eat or in the dining room. Isabella insisted I let Romain come when he was in town. He

had been coming home from Italy quite a bit on the weekends, which was unusual. I agreed his visit would be good for everyone but me. His girlfriend never came, and I didn’t ask why. I kept my distance from him as much as possible when he was there. He behaved himself, for the most part, staying away from Isabella. I made sure he knew I watched his every move when he was in my home. My eyes never left him and I made sure he saw that. Being off all the pain medication was good for my mental state. I seemed to be less angry as the days passed. The depression was still there, but the horrible feelings of anger were easing, or so I thought. I still had a short fuse. I

worked from the office at home and went into Paris twice a week. Isabella took a cooking class in town and loved the one night a week she could get away and be with other people. She was making friends and having coffee with them afterwards. She didn’t know, but each time I had Gustan follow her. She still wasn’t that fond of him, and didn’t know why. She wasn’t mean to him, and always treated him well. “Why don’t you like Gustan?” I asked her one night as we soaked in a hot bath this time. She sat in the back and held me in front of her. Being wrapped in her arms was wonderful. The warm water felt so good, and Isabella would wash my hair and my body. We would sit

there for hours listening to music, talking, and drinking wine. When the water became cold, we emptied the tub and filled it up again. “I don’t trust him, Fabrice. I don’t know, there’s something about him.” “I trust him with you and with my life. He has been with me for years. We served in Special Ops together.” The washrag dripped water across my back. The feel of her breasts pressed against me felt amazing. “Maybe I’m wrong. I have a weird feeling. I don’t like his eyes. They’re too close together.” I couldn’t help but laugh at her. “You can’t be serious? I never see his eyes; he always has those damn

sunglasses on.” I turned around and met her gaze squarely. “Yes, why does he hide his eyes? He could be a mastermind terrorist and had that whole thing set up. He could have told them when you were going to be in the coffee shop that day. Didn’t he ask you to go and get coffee? Where is he from? What are his religious beliefs?” “You have a very vivid imagination. You may want to start writing books. I know him very well. He did not set me up, he is from France, and he was raised Catholic. Now stop. I think you have been holed up with me too long. Maybe you need to have Avery come down, and you two tear up the

town.” She must have too much time on her hands, and this sedentary lifestyle we were currently living was getting to her. “That’s not a bad idea. I miss her terribly. I’ll call her tomorrow. You wouldn’t mind if she came here?” Isabella raked her fingers through my hair and massaged my scalp. I could have fallen asleep. “Mind? It’s Avery. I love being around her. She might bring some light to this place.” “Yes, Pepe, she might.” We both laughed at my nickname she had given to me the first time I started dating Isabella. With the physical therapy kicking my ass every day, I was exhausted and in

pain. Our sex life became nonexistent. Isabella never pushed me, she never complained. She seemed to be content being with me like we were in the bath. But, that night I needed her. I was determined to fuck her brains out the best way I could. After we were done with our bath, we dried off, and I grabbed her in my arms. She gasped, her gaze shocked. “I want you. The way I used to make love to you with me in control. I want to be dressed and tell you what to do. I need this.” I whispered in her ear letting my tongue trace the outline. She went limp in my arms. “Are you sure you’re up for tying me up and telling me what to do?” she

asked, in a sexy husky voice she gets when she is horny. My fingers grabbed her naked ass and thrust her against me. “I’m up for anything that keeps you naked and begging for me. Feel this?” I placed her hand on my throbbing cock. I was hard as stone. I hadn’t been in so long. My cock was suddenly in need of her pussy. “Oh, what a nice surprise, Fabrice. This is better than the dessert I made for us.” “Stay naked, Isabella and go lie down on the bed, and we will get to that dessert later.” She did as I instructed. “Yes, sir,” she smiled at me with lust in her eyes. I went to my closet and put on my

dress pants, white shirt, and tie. I needed to find the strength within me to satisfy her in bed the way she loved and this would do it. Taking control and standing a lot was going to be hard, but I needed to pull myself up and be the man she fell in love with. I walked over to her as she lay on the bed. I saw the raw lust in her eyes. My cock ached along with my leg. “Yum,” she moaned looking up at me. I couldn’t help but smile at her. How it could get her so worked up to see me in a pair of pants and a dress shirt was still a mystery to me. She, on the other hand was like looking at a work of fine art spread across my bed. “I barely recognize you anymore

when you wear your tie. I’m so used to you in sweats and a t-shirt. You’re so gorgeous, Fabrice.” I said nothing trying to get into my dominant role. I had to make do with what we had on hand so I took two of my t-shirts, and two ties over to the bed. I used the two t-shirts to restrain her arms, and the ties for her ankles. After I tied her to the bed, I sat down on the edge and admired her. My one joy in life was her. I pushed her hair out of her eyes as I gazed into her face. I let my hands run down the length of her body. Her lips were parted, and she panted as I teased her with gentle caresses across her skin. “I love you so much.” “I love you too, Fabrice. Are you

okay?” I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think I was ready to do that yet. I didn’t know if I could take charge like I did before. The pain in my leg kept me from kneeling, and that was part of the game we played. Maybe it was partly depression, but the thought of tying her up didn’t sit well with me. I bent down and kissed her. Her tongue delved deep in my mouth, her lips wet and warm. A soft moan escaped her as she arched her back to me. My cock was hard as steel and I wanted to be inside her. I let my hand roam across her body again as I lightly stroked her hard nipples with my fingertips. Her skin felt like satin against my fingers. Her scent was so intoxicating and so feminine.

One of my hands cupped her breast. As I squeezed the perfect mound, and bent down to suck her nipple. My ravenous mouth could not get enough. She pulled against the restraints. I didn’t have the strength in me to turn her on dominantly as I would have done in the past. I stopped and looked at her. “Isabella, I’m no good anymore.” She jerked out of her lust-filled moment. “Don’t talk like that, Fabrice. What are you talking about? I’m dripping wet.” “I can’t please you right now like I used to. I don’t have the strength yet to dominate you. I don’t know if I will be able to for a long time or if ever.” She narrowed her eyes at me.

“I don’t need you to dominate me in bed, Fabrice. You know that. Yes, it’s sexy and fun. I love you. And all of this doesn’t matter.” “That was our thing. That is what you like.” “Our thing was us. That’s our thing. Our thing now is that we are alive and together. The other stuff can wait. Baby, stop this and come to bed with me. Remember, the first time you took me to bed and didn’t get undressed? That was so hot. Let’s do that again.” I looked in her eyes and both of us knew. There was something more than domination between us. I looked in her eyes and saw nothing but love. With a sigh of regret, I untied her legs and arms and let her pull

me down onto the bed. I felt better being in her arms. I rested my head against her soft pillowy breasts. “I’m sorry, baby,” I said. I was truly sorry I couldn’t take her over the edge like before. Her fingers lightly stroked my face; her sighs told me none of that mattered. I was still hard as a rock. I wanted to turn her on and make her come. She snuggled closer and placed her leg over my body, which gave me the opportunity to reach around her and finger her sweet spot. My fingers melted inside her. “Oh God, “she breathed. I let my thumb rub against her clit as my other two fingers dove deeper inside her. I touched that spot she loved

for me to touch. She came hard after a couple of minutes, grabbing onto me and calling my name. I needed my mouth on her. “Isabella, come up here and sit on me. Put your pussy on my face, but face away from me.” I was still fully dressed as she sat up on all fours, turned around and stuck her ass out for me. My hands massaged her perfect round ass as I admired it, and remember what a lucky man I was at that moment. I spread her wide with my thumbs and devoured her. She quivered as I dove into her with my tongue. Holy fuck, nothing has ever tasted so good. Her hair was a wild mess, and I loved when she looked like that. With my free hand, I grabbed her

hair and gave her long strands a tug. I heard her groan. I felt her bite me playfully through my pants. “Fabrice, I want you inside me.” I had to be inside her. “I want to fuck you, now!” she cried. My leg screamed in pain, but my cock needed her more than the pain could stop. She unzipped my fly and took out my cock and raised up off my face. She looked back at me as she took me again with her back facing me. Her round ass, tiny waist and long hair hanging down made me go insane. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” I asked, as I tried to catch my breath. “Go slow; I want to feel all of

you.” I wanted this to last for a while, and if she went to fast, I would explode. She was hot and throbbing as she sat down on me. My hands clutched her waist and guided her at the speed I wanted her to go. I held her there for a second as I let my cock sit inside her. She was purposely clenching her pussy driving me out of my mind. I licked my thumb and pressed lightly against her puckered entrance. The passion and love between us was hot and fiery and I needed to touch all of her. I must have spurred something inside her because she began to moan louder the more I pressed. With my cock in her pussy and my thumb in her ass, I was sending her to heaven and I was right behind.

“Are you okay with me touching you there?” I asked insistently. “I love that,” she moaned. I could tell she did. The different way she moved when my finger was pressed there told me she loved what I was doing to her. “Can I go deeper?” I didn’t want to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with. “Please, give me more.” I pushed my thumb in deeper. Her hands gripped my calves as she continued to moan and rock back and forth. “Isabella, turn around and look at me.” I wanted to look in her face. I wanted her to open her eyes and look

into mine. I needed the intimate connection of our souls. “Let me watch you come. Look at me when you come.” She raised off me and turned around. Slowly, she put me inside her again. “Fabrice, it’s going to be….Oh God.” The intense wetness of her pussy along with its throbbing against my cock brought me to an orgasm. I couldn’t push deep enough in her. Everything around me was a blur as I pumped her full of all I had to offer. We didn’t want to stop as our orgasms kept flowing through us. Isabella reached down and touched her pussy and put her fingers in my mouth for me to suck. Holy fuck. I kept coming as the pain started to rise in my leg and I

sucked on her fingers. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered but making my Isabella feel good. She fell down across me panting and sweaty. “I wanted to tie you up, Isabella. I feel like less than a man if I can’t dominate you the way you like in bed.” “I told you I don’t need that, Fabrice. What you did to me was perfect and oh so hot.” She was determined to make me feel good, but I knew otherwise. I knew what she needed and what she craved. “I’m not the same man. I don’t know if I ever will be.” I whispered in her ear. “You’re the same man. You’re my Fabrice. Stop this. You know it doesn’t

matter to me.” “It matters to me.” “Why?” she got angry with me as I pushed the issue. She sat up in bed and stared down at me. “You know how I love to take you so close to the edge and then stop. I love to watch you squirm and want me so bad you can’t stand it.” “I’m good with you making love to me any way. We can do different things until you are ready and if you aren’t who gives a shit, Fabrice. You are too hung up on that shit.” She was right. I was very hung up on that shit. It’s because that is what I did for so long. Domination was my foreplay. Domination was taught to me at

an early age in my sexual experience and it was something I didn’t want to lose. I’m not one of those intense guys that uses equipment and floggers. That wasn’t my thing. I enjoyed tying up my partner and using every one of our senses to heighten the sexual experience. I had to get back to that again soon. ~~~~~~~~~~~ I was halfway into my painful physical therapy one morning when I received a call. I wouldn’t have taken the call, but the call was Pierre. I had not heard from him in a while so I answered my phone to see if he found the boy. “Pierre, it’s good to hear from you.” I tried to sound normal despite the

fact I was out of breath. “I need to meet with you, Fabrice. Can we meet today?” “Okay. I’m at physical therapy now. How about this evening you come to my home? Are you in Paris? “I’m here in Paris, and the sooner, the better. I can be wherever you need me. What time is good? I stopped and thought for a second. I planned on working late and we had nothing planned that evening other than dinner. I could stop and take a break around four. “How about four?” “I’ll be there.” I hung up, hoping to hear about the boy and his mother. I needed to know he was spared that day.

I had arrived back to my office around lunchtime. I was sore, tired, and in need of some quiet time. The sun was hot and I sat outside to eat the sandwich Isabella had made for me and put in the refrigerator. I was surprised to notice Gustan calling me and, I was a little pissed he had interrupted my lunch. “Gustan?” “Fabrice, I found some things out about your brother’s girlfriend. We need to meet as soon as possible and I don’t want to say anything on the phone. Is he coming to your house anytime soon?” “No, he’s not invited over here as far as I know. What’s wrong?” “We’ll talk when I get home. I’m in Paris right now, but should be back

soon.” The call ended and I knew it had to be something serious for him not to discuss the situation over the phone. An uneasiness fell over me as I thought about what Gustan said. She must have a past, like I thought. Why else would she be with my brother? This shit never ended with him, and I was the only one that seemed to notice. I heard my Isabella singing somewhere in the house late that afternoon. Her voice was a welcoming sound, and I loved knowing she was there with me. As I was going to go see her, I saw a car coming down the driveway kicking up a cloud of dust. A black sedan drove up to my turnaround. I looked at my clock to see that it was

four. I forgot to tell Isabella Pierre would be coming over. I heard him knock, and before I walked to the door, she had greeted him and let him in. Pierre always had a way with the ladies and loved to charm them. He was harmless, and I let him have a little fun. He was not any competition. Well maybe now he would be. Pierre was tall and lanky, bald and married to the same woman since he was nineteen. He was not a looker, but he had a way with the women. He could make them laugh, and that’s what reeled them in. “Fabrice said he was dating a beautiful woman, but I never dreamed you would be this beautiful!” Christ. If

anyone else said that, I would have slugged him. I had forgotten the two of them hadn’t met. Isabella giggled, and I walked behind her, grabbing her by the waist. “I didn’t want to make you jealous, Pierre. Yes, I keep her locked up here, so men like you don’t try to steal her.” They both laughed. “Smart man.” Pierre and I went to my office, and before we spoke, Gustan knocked on the door. “Gustan. Come on in. Pierre and I are looking into something. Glad you’re here,” I said. Gustan looked concerned. I didn’t like that look on his face. That intense glare made me uneasy. He and Pierre shook hands, but Gustan again

didn’t want to sit. “I have to talk to you. It’s urgent.” I looked up at Gustan, who stood in front of me sweating and breathing heavy. “What is wrong with you? Were you working out?” He shook his head no, and looked out the window behind my desk. He seemed to be on guard. “What was so urgent you couldn’t speak to me over the phone?” I asked. He threw the manilla folder on the desk in front of me. I opened the folder up to see pictures of the same woman he showed me previously. I looked up at him quizzically. He took a rag out of his coat pocket and wiped his brow. “That is not

Andrea Noir.” “Who is she then, Gustan?” “Her name is Assata Bushra. She is the widow of Azhar Hakim.

I

sat back in my chair taking in what Gustan told me. My brother’s fiancé was the widow of one of the biggest terrorists in Syria I’d helped assassinate. I felt faint. “Are you sure? How did you find this information, Gustan?” asked Pierre. “I did some research, and I had a man follow her. The same one that followed Romain. She travelled back

and forth from Syria to Paris several times last year. We did extensive research on her alias and nothing came up, except for an Andrea Noir who was killed several years ago. I had her fingerprints lifted from Romains apartment, and we had a match come back. After double checking we determined she is indeed the widow.” “Do you have a picture of this Assata?” Pierre paced my office as upset as I was. Gustan pointed to the envelope. “It’s all in there.” I pulled out two snapshots of a woman that looked similar. I picked up both pictures and studied them carefully. I needed to be certain in my mind she was the same woman. I don’t forget a

face and this face was ingrained in my mind. The face resembled Andrea except for her hair being different. Pierre picked up the photo and a recent picture of Andrea to compare them to Assata. He frowned. “This is definitely the same woman. Has she committed any terrorist acts?” Gustan folded his arms across his chest. “Assata was questioned by police years ago and then fled. She has kept a low profile until the death of Azhar Hakim. After that, she became more radicalized. She is dangerous, Fabrice. They think she went to Turkey and then Syria where she met Azhar Hakim in a jihadist training camp. She was with him

the day of the killings but somehow escaped.” “Is there anything else we know about her?” “Her past is sketchy. She was born in England and lived in Paris where she attended the University. She joined this terror group, and is known to have killed twenty prisoners at point- blank range to prove her allegiance. She is heartless and ruthless. She is known as “The Temptress.” She can lure a man to her bed, and before you even pull down your pants, she has you under her spell. She likes to gravitate to weak men, in need of a woman, drug users, like your brother Fabrice. “Do you think my brother has

anything to do with this?” I wouldn’t put it past him. He had to know something. Anything that involved hurting me had to be top on Romains list. If he was intimate with this woman in any way, he had to know. Romain was a drug user and a fool, but he was street smart. Peirre spoke up first. “At this time I will say with confidence, no.” I didn’t listen to his response as I yelled. “I need proof.” My temper had the best of me and I wanted to go and find Romain and beat the shit out of him. That stupid, stupid bastard. “What I want you to do now is settle down and pretend life is normal. Until Gustan and I find out more of what is going on and if he knows anything, I

need you to keep a level head.” Pierre looked at me intently. “Level head? Pierre, are you kidding me? I can’t keep a level head. I’m worried about Isabella. I don’t want her around anything like that. I need to send her home.” Gustan spoke up first. “If you send her home now they will get suspicious. I don’t want you to send her home, not now. Listen to me Fabrice, Isabella will be okay. Now I want you to go on as nothing is different. You have to trust me on this.” I should have known my brother would fuck me again. Why not? That son of a bitch. What if he was a part of this shit? He was always jealous of me even

when we were boys. I excelled him in everything, including life in general. My mom and dad would always baby him and protect him when he would whine that life wasn’t fair. When I was little, I always looked up to him and thought he was my hero. I watched him go off to war, become a general, and I wanted to be like him. That changed when he started using drugs and I found him overdosed. He became a problem rather than a hero. When I excelled faster than he did, he resented me doing better than him. When I was in Special Ops and awarded the medals of bravery, he acted different towards me from then on. It wasn’t until I became the Ambassador and then bought the winery that he truly

tried to hurt me. Now, he claims to be a changed man. A man of integrity and honor. My fucking ass. He baited me and pretended to be innocent to hurt me once again. I had to keep a level head like Pierre and Gustan advised. I had to keep my shit together the best way I could. “Should my parents know about this now?” Gustan spoke again. “No. Whatever you do don’t tell anyone yet, even Isabella.” I shook my head in agreement. Keeping this a secret would be tough, but I would do whatever was needed to keep her safe. “Have you met this Andrea yet, Fabrice?” Pierre asked me.

“No, I have not. Romain says she’s busy, at home, or working whenever we get together. I have never met her, neither have my parents or Isabella.” Now that I thought about it, that was a little strange. Every time we were together, she was always busy. I looked at Gustan and spoke. “Let’s keep track of her, Gustan. You have a guy that does this for you? Can he be trusted? I don’t care how much tracking her costs. You understand this don’t you?” “Definitely. I’ve used him for all types of work for the last twenty years. He’s the best. I’ll continue to have him follow and track her.” My anger seethed inside me. Along

with everything else I was going through, this became a very serious issue I didn’t have time to deal with. I stood up at my desk, picked up whatever I could, which was as stapler, and threw it across my office. The thud against the plaster wall echoed in the room. How could my life be unraveling like this? “Goddamn it!” I yelled, startling myself with the rage in my voice. The anger of the last month surfaced in one loud, obnoxious scream. I would kill anyone that hurt Isabella; that included my brother. “Have you been cleared to go back to Washington yet?” Pierre asked, as he stood up and paced my office. “No, not yet. My leg has to be

monitored a while longer.” “That is why I wanted to talk to you today. Before this news, I thought the best thing you can do right now is to get back to Washington. There has been some chatter that has been picked up from this terrorist group that is quite alarming. They are planning another attack in the near future, and I’m not sure if you are the target. I feel differently than Gustan. I think if there is any way you can at least get Isabella home in a way she doesn’t suspect anything, I would try. You know it’s going to be hard and she won’t want to leave you. I don’t think sending her back to the United States will raise any red flags. There are excuses you could say as to

why she had to go back.” Gustan raised an eyebrow at Pierre. They were in a silent competition as to who had the better intelligence information. I nodded my head in agreement with Pierre. I knew I had to get her home. This new information about my brother and Andrea became serious now. Yet, how would I cope without her there? I needed her in order to get better. “I don’t know how to send her home without her suspecting anything.” “Don’t get worked up over sending here back home, Fabrice. It’s not dire right now, but the sooner, the better.” “She is having her best friend come out soon. I don’t want to ruin that

for her.” The three of us agreed I should let the information sit for a while and, let Avery come, and then try to get Isabella back home. The thought made me feel sick.

I worked in my office one afternoon as I eagerly waited for Avery’s arrival. I sent my driver to pick her up at the airport, and when I saw the car come down the dirt road, my heart jumped for joy. We have had a bit too many visitors lately, and the thought of someone else didn’t sit too well with me unless the visitor was Avery. I was tired, pissed, and on edge with everything that

was going on. A visit from this remarkable girl was what both Isabella and I needed. When I saw her stepping out of the back seat, I pushed to my feet and headed out of my office. I was elated to see her, and my pissed off mood suddenly changed. She was what my girl needed to help her have some relaxing time and forget about being stuck in the house with me. Taking care of me has taken a toll on my Isabella. My mood swings, constant poor attitude, and relentless pursuit to get our sex life back to where I wanted it, had not been easy on her. Before I could get to the door and greet Miss Avery, I heard the squeals.

Like two teenagers at a rock concert, they were hugging each other and screaming. “Avery,” I said as I walked up to her. She looked tired and worn out. Isabella said she was having some problems with her new heart, but didn’t know the extent of how serious the problem was. Her new wife Cherise was pregnant, and a baby was something Avery didn’t think she was ready for. The exhaustion under her eyes, a possible sign things weren’t going as well as everyone hoped. She opened her arms and embraced me in a hug. I kissed her on both cheeks. She felt cold. “Hey, it’s Pepe. How’s the kicker

doing?” Isabella thought that was funny of course. “I’m getting there slowly but surely. I think Isabella is ready to kick me to the curb.” “Not you, Pepe. She loves taking care of you. Me, that was another story. She was the nurse from hell with me. I hope she isn’t the same with you.” “Shut up, Avery. I took very good care of you.” Isabella was so happy, yet I could see the concern on her face when she noticed the same thing as I had in Avery’s face. Something wasn’t right. Isabella grabbed her bags, and I thanked my driver for bringing her. Gustan came out to see who the guest was.

“Isabella told me this place was beautiful but until you are actually here, you don’t see the real beauty. What a place to recover, Fabrice. I wouldn’t want to leave.” Avery stopped to look around the property. I’m glad she approved. “I don’t want to leave. I could stay here forever if I could have my family live here too.” My sweet girl missed her family. She wouldn’t tell me how much, but I knew not being with them weighed on her. The holidays were coming up soon and that had to be tough on her not to be with them. I may have to force her to go home sooner than I wanted. “Wow.” Avery jumped when Gustan stood behind her. I couldn’t help

but laugh. Gustan can be quite intimidating at times. “That is the bodyguard and the man who saved Fabrice’s life. Avery, meet Gustan. Gustan, this is my best friend, Avery,” said Isabella. “Nice to meet you,” he grunted out a response. Not a talker or impressed with too much of anything. “Same here big guy. Thanks for taking care of these two. I’m here now so you can take a break.” Everyone laughed. Gustan, who doesn’t find humor in anything cracked a smile. I enjoyed seeing the happiness in my girl’s face when she looked at Avery and smiled. This is what she needed. Avery stayed with us a week.

Gustan had difficulties keeping an eye on the two of them with their constant comings and goings. The security team was out of their minds trying to keep track of them. She and Avery cooked, stayed up all night, and laughed. I had not seen Isabella like that since we began dating. One night when Avery went to bed early, Isabella told me she thought something was possibly wrong with her heart. The doctors were increasing her medication and hoped her issue was nothing serious. She said it was a winlose situation because when they increase the medicine, the medicine caused other problems. I tried to calm Isabella’s fears by telling her not to

worry, and that Avery was a fighter. I noticed Avery looked tired, but her personality didn’t change. She was still the happy, mouthy woman I loved. She made my Isabella happy, and Isabella loved her. That was enough for me to love her as much. She loved to razz me while she was in our home. Every day I would hear her say she was getting me a motorized wheelchair adorned with the flag of France and the United States, or she was going to come and stay with the new baby and her wife, Cherise, was having in a few months. Anything to get my goat, and I loved her. One morning while Isabella was out running, it was Avery and I in the house. “Hey Pepe, how’s the leg this

morning?” I couldn’t help but laugh at her. “The leg’s getting stronger. How’s the ticker?” I thought maybe if I made a joke out of our pathetic situations she would talk to me. “Still ticking thank God. You know Cherise is expecting a baby next month. I don’t know if I’m ready for this. Mind if I move in here with you and Izz?” “I would love for you to. You could keep my girl smiling. She has missed you.” “I miss her too. But, it’s all good. She wouldn’t be happy without you so she is in the best place right now.” She gazed at me and I knew there was something she wanted to tell me.

“Is there something you want to tell me? You look a little concerned.” I was sitting at the table eating breakfast. She grabbed some toast and coffee and came and sat down beside me. Her hands were nervously folding a napkin as she looked down. I reached over and touched her hand. Her fingers were icy cold. “Tell me. What is going on with you, Avery?” “I don’t want you telling Izz yet. She has enough to worry about. Promise me you won’t say anything.” The sunlight streamed through the kitchen window and lit up her pale face. The light made the dark circles look more prominent on her. I knew what she was going to tell me.

“I’m rejecting the heart. I told Izz rejection was a possibility, but it’s inevitable. They keep telling me this new medication will work but this new stuff isn’t. I feel like I’m eighty years old. I don’t want to go through another surgery again. I can’t go through much more. Cherise doesn’t need that stress now with a new baby.” “Did you get a second opinion?” I asked, holding her hand and whispering. “I had a second and a third.” I swallowed hard. The thought of this made me feel like a complete fucking ass. Here I was complaining about a leg that was healing. My leg injury wasn’t going to kill me. I wasn’t fighting to live and yet, all I did was whine.

“What can I do for you? There has to be some connections I have I can pull?” She laughed and spit out her coffee. “Connections to what, heaven? No. I mean I can’t go through any more of this heart business. It’s not something I have the strength for. I appreciate the offer, Pepe but I’m going to sit this one out. I’m telling you this because I need you to be there for Isabella. I don’t want her alone when and if I decided to exit. She is too important to me and I need to know you will be there for her.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “You don’t have to make sure of that. I will never leave her. She’s my life, Avery. Please, Avery, I’m begging you to change

your mind. You know I have grown to love you as well. And this baby. Don’t you want to be with the baby and Cherise? Avery shrugged. Isabella walked in and we both quit talking. “Look, two of my favorite people.” I walked over to her and grabbed her waist to bring her into me for a hug. I loved the hell out of her. I held her a little tighter to me aware that Avery’s weakening condition would bring her grief. I hated to see her hurting. “Two of. We better be the only two faves, Izz. Who else compares to us?” Avery pointed her finger at me. “No one. I should have said that correctly. Let me start over.” Isabella

pulled away from me, went out the door, and quickly came back in. She had a surprised look on her face and opened her arms, laughing. “Look, my two favorite people.” Avery shook her head smiling. “Much better. What’s on the agenda today? Please don’t say more cooking. I’m tired of cooking.” Isabella walked into my arms again. Her hands were in my hair. If I felt better and Avery wasn’t sitting in the kitchen I would have put her on the counter and devoured her. “What do you want to do, Avery? Maybe Fabrice will join us.” As nice as that idea was I didn’t want to go anywhere. I had more than enough work to get caught up on. Plus, they needed

time alone. Maybe they would talk about Avery’s situation more without me lurking around. “You girls go have fun. I have a ton of work to do and many calls to make.” I saw the disappointment in Isabella’s face when I said I wouldn’t be going. I think she wanted me to because she hated to leave me alone. I had to make sure Gustan was going with them wherever they went. When Avery left after spending a week with us, I felt that things would be better in the vineyard. Things were better for a while. Isabella and I seemed to bask in the joy Avery left behind for a short time. Isabella was back in the kitchen, either with my mom or at her

cooking classes learning new recipes and techniques. Also, I noticed Isabella missing her family more and more each day. I would find her skyping or talking to her sister and my heart broke as tears streamed down her face when she would look at her niece. The baby she hadn’t gotten to meet yet because she was in Paris with me since her sister gave birth to her. My heart broke knowing she didn’t get to spend time with her and the baby because of me. Though she didn’t complain once, I could tell being away from them was hurting her. The Sunday dinners she loved to be a part of, were happening without her. Sundays always brought a quieter less happy, Isabella. That along

with the new information I received on Andrea Noir was enough to push me to send Isabella back home. I knew I had to, but I didn’t want to. Maybe I was being selfish, but I didn’t want her to leave me yet. That was until one night when Gustan sent an urgent text message to me. One evening while we were having dinner outside, my phone buzzed with a text from Gustan, saying it was urgent he meet with me that night. Though I had other things planned for the evening, one of them was bath time with Isabella, I had to see what he wanted. Usually, Gustan would wait until the morning to go over information. That night, he rushed into my office like a man

with a purpose, like a man in trouble with his boss, and he wanted to explain himself. “You aren’t going to sit down?” I asked, as he approached my desk once again, sweaty and out of breath. “I don’t feel like sitting.” “Gustan, why are you so out of breath? You need to go see a doctor.” I tried to lighten up the situation, but that wasn’t going to happen. He moved closer to my desk and looked over his shoulder before he began speaking. “Is Isabella close by?” “No, she she’s in the bathtub waiting for me, so let’s hurry this up. What is wrong, Gustan?” I stood up and

leaned up against the front of my desk. “It’s Andrea Noir.” He wiped the sweat from his brow with a rag he carries in his pocket. “What about her?” The sound of her name sent a rush of heat to my cheeks. My muscles tightened in a quiet response of stress. “She’s disappeared.”

Keeping

myself under control was difficult as I stared at him. For a few minutes I wasn’t thinking about my leg or my depression. I thought about where this woman could be and how to keep my Isabella safe. “How do you know this?” I kept my eyes on him. “From the guy we have trailing her. The last time he saw her was two days

ago and she was with your brother, Romain. They were in Rome then.” Gustan slid a folder across the desk. I opened the manila folder to see pictures of Andrea and Romain walking arm and arm through the city laughing, eating at an outside café, shopping at an open market, and then both of them going into an apartment.” “Doesn’t she travel a lot? Where is Romain?” I looked down at the pictures in front of me. Andrea was a plain looking woman. She was no beauty as most of the women Romain had been with in the past. She was tall and skinny, short dark hair, and somewhat masculine. She wore ripped jeans and bulky sweaters with combat boots in

most of the pictures. Not what Romain would go for in his heyday? I have seen him with strippers and prostitutes so this was a big change. He looked happy when he was with her. I couldn’t help but think he might know what she was up to or who she was connected to., “Romain is in Rome right now. We have a guy on him. He has done nothing we need to worry about, yet. I still have my suspicions, but as of now, we don’t think he knows who she is. We lost her. If she were on a business trip, we would still be able to trail her. We can’t find her.” Keeping those two idiots under surveillance was a pain in the ass. Those men cost me a fucking fortune, but I

didn’t care. Money was not an issue when Isabella’s safety was involved. I had to believe in them and the job they were doing. Gustan finds the best. I was convinced they were doing a good job. I closed the folder and pushed it back towards Gustan. “Now what?” “We are staying glued to Romain like white on rice. His every move is being monitored. He can’t take a shit without us knowing. You and Isabella do what you’ve been doing. The sooner you can get back to Washington the better, Fabrice.” I realized that now. “Well, since that’s not possible right now with my doctors. What else

can I do?” “Don’t tell anyone about this. Show no fear or lead on like you don’t know anything.” I nodded, not happy with anything going on. I was in no mood to play games. I wanted that shit done and over with. I wanted to enjoy the time with Isabella and not have to worry about getting her back home. “Goddamn it, Gustan.” He looked at me. I folded my arms across my chest. I was tired of the bullshit. How could she have disappeared? How could Romain get caught up in something like this? Was he that hard up for pussy? Being on drugs was one thing, being connected to a terrorist that tried to kill me was something totally different. For

his sake he better not have known anything about this. ~~~~~~~~~~~ My hands slid up her muscular calf. She had been running again around the vineyard, and her body was even better than ever. I let my fingers roam up to her flat stomach, and she whimpered in her sleep. I loved sleepy sex when she was half awake and so accepting. I was drowning in self-pity and depression. Fear was another issue I was now faced with for the first time. Not that I’m a wimp by any means. I feared almost nothing. What I feared was someone hurting Isabella. The rain against the windows told me the day would be sad and miserable on the

vineyard. At least I could start the day off with a good round of sex with her. I wanted to make sleepy love to her that morning as the rain beat against the house. Isabella whispered into me with her eyes still closed. “I love waking up like this.” The softness of her skin was incredible. I was hard as a rock as I caressed every part of her. My tongue found her mouth and I dipped inside. Even in the morning, she tasted sweet and delicious. “I want breakfast in bed this morning,” I whispered into her mouth as she began to squirm under me. “What would you like? Name anything, and I’ll make whatever you

want.” “No, no my sweet girl. I’m fine with what I have. You are what I want for breakfast.” She laughed, and I pinned her down to the mattress. I was hungry for her and wanted nothing but her. All my love and emotions for her came roaring into me. I kissed her again, and I felt dizzy. She had that sort of effect on me. I inhaled her scent and tasted her skin as I worked my way down her warm and soft body. Her hands dug into my hair. I looked up at her as I made my way to her belly button. I smiled up at her and she smiled down at me as my tongue dipped in. Gazing at her sleeping face made

me realize how much I needed to make sure no one hurt her ever. My finger went inside her, and she moaned. Her moans were incredible. My fucking leg hurt as I put pressure on it, trying to crawl down her body and ease between her thighs. She arched her back and pushed her hips up to me. I pushed her thighs apart with my hands, keeping them there as I lowered my head and licked her clit. She cried out. Her fingers dug roughly into my hair; she loved this. Feeling her pussy quake around my tongue moved me to dive in deeper. My tongue tunneled through her pussy licking, fucking, and tasting her. I couldn’t get enough. She was like warm honey as I buried my face as deep as I

could. Her hands pulled at my hair and the more I lapped her up the harder she grabbed on. I heard her say my name over and over. I pressed my tongue against her clit as I inserted one of my fingers into her. My cock wanted in, but first I would taste her and let her come on my face. “God, yes.” She screamed and pushed my head into her deeper. Christ, I needed to come. I was so close. I felt my cock dripping with want. I stopped for a second. “Come on baby, come for me all over my face. I want to taste you all day.” I found out early on when I talked dirty to her she came even harder. She loved the dirty talk. Within seconds she was trembling.

I felt her come on my tongue, and I quickly rose up and thrust into her. Fuck, she was so tight. “Isabella.” I didn’t realize I had called out her name. I was so close. I kissed her mouth and down her throat. She grabbed my ass and pushed me deeper. “Come on baby, come inside me, Fabrice.” She milked my dick the way I loved. The orgasm wouldn’t stop. I filled her with me, and she sighed in pleasure. Making love to her that morning proved how much I loved her. She needed to be kept safe. As much as I lived for her, I had to let her go home. I couldn’t keep putting her in danger anymore. Her safety was my

responsibility. I had her family to think about as well. They counted on me to keep her protected, to take care of her, and to love her. I loved her so much I had to live without her. Now was the time.

The

vineyard became a busy place again with more security I didn’t want. I made a very serious rule that no matter what, no one was allowed to come into my home, whenever they wanted. That was the one place I could go to get away from the security and press. Somehow the press found out where I lived, and they were camped out around the entrance of our driveway. We were

becoming prisoners in our own home. I was mean, and irritable. Isabella was at the front line of my anger. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole. Also in the back of my mind, I knew each day she was with me, I put her life in danger. Worrying about her and feeling sorry for myself took a toll on me and everyone around me. As the weeks went by and the irritation of my situation dragged on, our sex life grew cold, and I began to feel like a caged animal. I needed her desperately. I wanted her so bad my whole being hurt, but I wasn’t good to her. She deserved so much better. That morning I woke up with her snuggled to my body. I melted into her naked body and I didn’t want it

to end. That may be the last time I wake up to her. The thought tore me to shreds. I had to let her go home and now was the time. She was in danger every minute she was in Paris, and now with this Andrea missing, her safety could be in even more peril. I didn’t want her to know what was going on yet. If I did, she wouldn’t leave me. I didn’t want her to worry. The only other way around this issue was to make her angry with me. That thought made me sick. I lay awake most of the night thinking how to do this in the right way, but there was no right way. Not only would I lose her, but I was going to lose a part of me. There was no way around it. I had to tell her and the longer I didn’t, the harder it was

going to be. As the sun began to filter into our room, I felt her stir. She sat up and pushed that beautiful wild hair out of her eyes like she did every morning and smiled at me. I didn’t smile back. My leg hurt like hell and depression was setting in. Fear darkened her eyes as she looked at me. Tears were surfacing and pooling in those chocolate brown eyes that had so much life in them. “Tell me what you want? What can I do, Fabrice? You are so sad. Every day you seem to be sadder.” If she only knew I was sad because I had to send her home. The pain of those words crushed my heart. I never wanted to be the one to

make her cry. I was supposed to be the one to make her life amazing, happy, and perfect. I couldn’t guarantee her safety and that alone was enough for me to send her back home where I knew she would be safer. I couldn’t answer her. I had to come up with something to make her angry with me. I decided to tell her I didn’t think we should get married and that we need to push the wedding back a while. Calling off our wedding was the last thing I wanted to do. Should I keep her with me one more week? Should I just forget she was in danger and hope for the best? Finally, I said something. “I want to be the Fabrice you fell in love with. I’m trying so hard to be

tough and not let this get to me,” I said. “You are the man I fell in love with. You are my Fabrice. I love you. Don’t be sad today, baby.” I couldn’t bear to see her cry. I drug myself out of the bed, and hobbled to the bathroom. I was surprised every morning I still had a cock to piss with. I came back and she sat up in bed, naked and so fucking perfect. Her breasts were so full and perky, her stomach flat, and her skin so dewy and glowing. I was about to throw it all away so she could have a life. “Fabrice, let’s go somewhere today. Let’s take the Bugatti out and you can let me drive. How about we go to Paris and eat at a café, shop, and sit and

watch people. I think getting out for a while will do you some good. We could go for a long drive out in the country, whatever you want.” I hadn’t been out of the house since I came back from the hospital except to go to the Embassy. I worked from home once I was released, but had no desire to do anything. “No, I don’t want to go anywhere.” I grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt out of my closet. My usual outfit for the day. “Getting out will be good for both of us. You are getting better every day. You know the doctor said healing would take a while. You were doing so good and now you’re so sad. You need to do something happy, to cheer you up.”

“I said no,” I yelled. I threw my clothes on the floor and walked back to the closet. I don’t know why. Maybe I was trying to hide from what I had to do. She didn’t say anything. “Can I help you?” She finally said as she stood up to retrieve my clothes. I walked back out and grabbed my clothes from her. “No, I don’t need any help. I don’t want any fucking help. I want to be left alone. Please, Isabella leave me alone for a while.” She stood in front of me naked, perfect, and hurting. I had not raised my voice at her so loudly. Yes, I was depressed and pissed most days, but I never yelled at her, not like that. I cringed inside.

“All I want is you, Fabrice. All I need is you, broken, bruised, hurt, I don’t care. I’m so happy you are alive and soon we will be back in Washington.” She walked up to me smiling trying to soften my anger. She was good at diffusing situations. Before the attack she would have told me to fuck off. “Shut up, Isabella.” I tried to make her angrier at me. That way this whole thing that I was about to do would be a lot easier. She gasped and her gaze on me halted. She looked shocked. What had I done? There was no turning back now. I’d set the wheels in motion, and I had to keep going.

I turned away from her. I was embarrassed at being so brash and not wanting to look at her when I told her what I swore I would never say. She didn’t hesitate and came and wrapped her arms around my body. I tightened. I wasn’t worthy of her arms or her love with what I was about to do. “Fabrice, I love you so much. I can’t wait to be your wife. Do you know my mom picked out her dress already? I haven’t even picked out my dress yet and I’m the bride. I’m thinking black and ivory for the colors. Do you like that?” I turned around and looked at her. Now was the time. I had to do this horrific thing now. “Isabella”

“What?” her beautiful face smiled up at me. Her face, so perfect, so full of life. She sat back down on our bed. “We need to talk,” I said with an expressionless gaze on her. “You don’t like black and ivory. I don’t care. Pick some colors you like. You know how much I hate this shit. I will, however be the one picking the food and desserts.” I grabbed her hands. “No, that’s not why. Listen to me. I…I can’t marry you. Not like this. I’m not the same man anymore. I’m depressed and angry. You don’t need to be stuck here with me in this house all the time. It’s not fair to you. Listen how I yelled at you. You don’t deserve that.” I watched her face

turn from happiness to sorrow in a second. She sat there looking at me not understanding what I said to her. “What?” The look on her face was something I won’t forget. “Isabella, I have nothing to offer you right now. I can’t satisfy you like I used to. I’m damaged. I’m depressed and angry. What will I be like in ten or twenty years?” She stared at me and surged to her feet, pacing our bedroom. “This makes no sense, Fabrice. Am I not taking care of you good enough? I will try harder. I know I’ve been preoccupied with cooking and Avery here, but I will work harder to be there for you.” She walked to her closet and threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt

in a panic as if she knew. Her hands went to her wild hair. Her words were tearing me apart. “It’s not you. It’s me. This is my fault. I’m so sorry, Isabella.” ‘If this is about sex, what the fuck. I could care less about being tied up or dominated. You can still make love to me and that is all I care about. We’ve hit a slow spot, so what. That’s expected. What you did to me the other morning was earth shattering. Why would you say you can’t marry me?” Her voice became louder. Her breathing rapid. I could tell she was getting pissed off at me and fast. “You are too special to be tied down to something like this. I’ve aged

ten years in three months. Look at me.” “I’m looking at you. I look at you every day, and I see the same man I saw the night of the gala. You are the same man with an injury that will eventually get better. This is fucking bullshit.” She screamed pointing at my face. I wanted to take all I said back, but I couldn’t now. I should have waited. She had been so good to me over the past three months taking care of me and helping me heal. “Listen to me. Let’s put the wedding on hold and see if this is what you want. Go back home for a while. Take a break from all this and enjoy life a little. When I come back to Washington, we can see how we feel.” “Put the wedding on hold? Who the

fuck does that? The date has been announced in the paper. People are making plans. The invitations have been printed. I don’t understand where this is coming from. I have never made you feel like you are less than a man. I have done nothing these past three months but keep you uplifted. Why are you doing this?” Her voice began to shake as she sobbed. She covered her face with her hands and cried harder ripping my insides out. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to love her. I wanted to keep her with me forever. “Please understand. I love you more than anything.” “Shut up.” She cut me off. Pulling open the closet door she raced in and grabbed her suitcases. I sat

down on the bed. “Would you please settle down and let’s talk about this some more?” She stopped and turned around and looked at me. “You want me to go, you want me to stay. You make love to me one night and tell me I’m your world and the next day you say we can’t get married. You don’t know what the fuck you want, and obviously I’m not it. You’re right, I think it’s best for me to go home. You have your mind made up. I can’t beg a man to love me or marry me. I won’t. I’m going home for a while and be with my family. I need my family.” She was yelling now, the tears streaming down her face. I wanted to kiss them away. I wanted to

pick her up like I used to and throw her on the bed. I couldn’t. “I still love you. I love you so much it’s killing me to do this. Isabella, you don’t need this in your life. I want you to be happy. You can’t be happy with this.” I felt my voice waver as I became upset. The depression, the injury, and now telling the only woman I ever truly loved that I can’t love her hit me. “You don’t have the authority to tell me what and how I can be happy. You and only you make me happy. You are all I need, crippled, damaged, or whatever you want to call yourself. I don’t want anyone else. I never will. You know, I didn’t feel worthy enough of

loving you. I never felt like I was good enough or high class enough for you. You told me over and over to stop, that I was all the woman you needed. It took me a long time to feel comfortable being with you. I finally felt that comfort, and now you tell me you don’t want me. You are a bastard.” “Stay and let’s talk some more.” I murmured hanging my head and regretting what I had just done. “Stay. What the fuck? Do you even know what you are saying anymore? Stay, go, stay, I want to marry you, I don’t want to marry you. No, I have to get out of here.” She walked back over to her closet and ripped her clothes off the hangers and shoved them in her

suitcase. The hangers fell to the floor. Drawers were being ripped open and she grabbed her lingerie, socks, jeans, and t-shirts and shoved them angrily into her suitcases. She threw her shoes in a bag and zipped the bag up with a jerk. “This is the best right now Isabella. You need a better life than I can offer.” I tried to make myself believe that more than her. “There is no life other than you. You were my life, Fabrice. I don’t understand why you are throwing us away. I don’t understand any of this.” “I’m not throwing us away. I want you to have some time without me. You need some happiness. I’m taking your happiness away.

“You were my happiness. I can’t believe this. Last night you made love to me and told me I kept you sane. Today you wake up and tell me we need to cancel the wedding.” My Isabella. If I could make her understand she was my life. I loved her so much I had to let her go. Telling her that we need to postpone the wedding was like stabbing my heart with a knife. Watching her pack and go back home without me was a nightmare I didn’t know if I would live through. What I wanted to do was rip her dress of her body, tie her to my bed and drive her to insanity. I wanted to bury my head in her sweet pussy. I wanted to feel her come on my lips as she begged me not to stop I wanted her to stay here with

me so I could love her. Oh God, what have I done? Those terrorists should have killed me. It would have been easier to die that day instead of dying more and more each day. “I will be back in Washington in a few weeks. We can talk then when I’m back. Let’s see how things are going.” She had a crazy look in her eyes. “Don’t bother.” I couldn’t look at her when I spoke again. “I will have my driver take you to the airport. The plane is there waiting and I will call the pilot and let him know you are on your way. “The plane is waiting for me? You knew this was going to happen? You planned this, Fabrice? You fucking

planned this?” I called my pilot earlier in the morning and told him that Isabella would be flying back to D.C. and to have the plane ready. I also let my driver know I needed the car ready to go to the airport. He waited as well. Yes, I knew this was going to happen. Without warning, Isabella grabbed a half filled water bottle sitting on the nightstand beside the bed and threw the bottle at me, almost hitting me in the head. Instead the bottle smashed against the wall as water sprayed everywhere. I grabbed my cane and hobbled to her. I wanted to hold her and kiss her to settle her down. “Don’t you dare come near me?”

She screamed at me, throwing up her hands. Her lips were quivering, and she had a vicious look in her eyes, I had never seen before. “Isabella, please understand. I’m doing this because I love you.” The pain in my leg was so intense the need to sit down took over me. I couldn’t sit down. I felt the world spinning. “Fuck you, Fabrice. Fuck you. Don’t you dare come to my condo or my parents’ house. You stay away from me. When you come back to Washington, forget you ever knew me. I don’t want you anywhere near me.” Her sobs would haunt my lonely nights. I could not bear to hear the despair and utter sadness in her cries. Oh God what had I done to us?

I promised to never to hurt her. I told her I would be there for her always. I never wanted her to cry because of me. As much as I was dying inside, the thought of her being shot, held hostage, or raped by one of these motherfuckers made me think of nothing else. That thought pushed me to give up the one true thing in my life. These fuckers were still hurting me now. A slow torturous hurt that would not stop until the danger was over and I could be honest with her while I begged for her forgiveness. I prayed her forgiveness wouldn’t come too late. Wiping the tears from her face and trying to breathe, she took her ring off her finger and placed it on the dresser. I

watched as she picked up her suitcases and walked out the bedroom without looking at me. As I sat on the bed, to upset to get up, I heard the front door shut and I knew she was gone. If I had been able, I would have chased after her and brought her back. If I had been able, none of this would have happened and those fuckers would all be dead. I looked out my bedroom window and watched the car pull out and move slowly down the driveway, I could see her in the backseat. She was still crying. I hung my head and attempted to make sense of what I had done. It was too much. I would never be able to make sense of it.

The vodka slid down my throat and to my stomach with a slow burn. I was drowning in self-pity and depression. The vodka helped eased the pain of not having Isabella with me. She had been gone for a week now. The ache of my loneliness was severe. I worked during the day and drowned my sorrows at night. I didn’t sleep, I paced, yelled, and fought to keep myself together.

Gustan and the security team, insisted that I should stay inside the house. Fuck him and everyone else. I didn’t care. Let the motherfuckers shoot me. This time I hope they blew my head off. Outside was the one place I was somewhat comfortable. I needed to be outside where I could breathe. Rain or shine, day or night, I sat outside. Going in the house reminded me too much of her. Isabella was everywhere. The scent of her still lingered in the air, the sheets, and in my closet. The bathroom still held her toiletries. I couldn’t throw them away. The fresh flowers she would put in vases around the house lay dying. The lavender she loved to pick was dried up

in a vase with no water. The cleaning lady knew not to touch them. I already informed her they were not to be touched. She looked at me like I was insane. I didn’t give a shit. I had half a mind to let her go as well. Nothing needed cleaned. I didn’t eat, I wore the same clothes every day, and I could wash them myself. I didn’t want anyone in my house anymore. The house was a tomb of memories. I hadn’t talked to her. She wouldn’t answer my calls, texts, or emails. I knew she was safe because, like Romain, I had someone following her. She flew home and the last I knew she was back at her parent’s house. My parents had stayed a couple of days with me and left earlier

in the week. I told them what happened, but I didn’t tell them why Isabella went home. They were under the impression I let her go because I was depressed and wanted her to be happy. I didn’t mention Andrea or my brother. I made my wishes clear to them that I wanted to be alone. I was a miserable asshole and the way I felt showed with everyone, including them. I snapped at my mother one morning when she insisted I eat. I had never done that before. She insisted I would wind up back in the hospital and I needed to eat. I couldn’t tell her I didn’t care. I had given up. I yelled at her and told her to mind her own business. After that, my parents steered clear of me and packed their bags within the hour, to go

back home. I was fine with that. I needed to be left alone. Gustan and I met every morning and went over the reports. I had not seen Pierre and I didn’t tell him Isabella had left. He has called me several times, but I haven’t returned his calls. As the weeks passed there was no sign of Andrea Noir yet, and there was no new information about her. My brother had stayed in Rome, and I talked to him on the phone when he called, trying to act as normal as I could. I wanted to tell him to leave me alone, to fuck off and die, but no red flags they said. I held him to blame for loosing Isabella. If he hadn’t been fucking a terrorist she may still be with me. This bastard constantly fucked

with me one way or another. This is precisely why I didn’t want him back in my life. Yet, I had to act as normal as possible. I didn’t tell him Isabella was gone and I asked my parents not to tell him either. I wanted to see if he mentioned her leaving. He never did. He mentioned nothing about Andrea missing which raised my concern he knew where she was. I even went so far as to ask him when I would meet her and he said she was off in Paris on business. That had proven to be not true. There was no phone calls or text messages from his phone to hers. Gustan had checked and double checked. I still wasn’t buying anything yet. My gunshot wound was healing,

and the pain subsided more each week. My thigh was bulking up slowly and starting to resemble my old leg again. I was still doing physical therapy every day and extra at night to speed up the healing process. The scar on my leg was constant reminder of what I gave up, what I would not have again, and how I had no will to live anymore. It was nothing like the scar I carried on my heart and soul. The pain of losing her had me crying out in what little sleep I was able to get. That scar had me thrashing in bed, sweaty and wishing I was dead. Other than working at my home office, going to the doctor and physical therapy, Gustan was the only human

contact I had for a while. I would sit outside in the French country air amongst the growing grapes and cry for her when I was alone. No one knew. Maybe Gustan did, but he never said anything. I would never let anyone know the despair I felt. Not only was my body a mess, but my life was now ruined without her. I spoke once to Avery, who was more than pissed at me. I had promised I would take care of Isabella forever when she was in Paris, and I went back on my promise. She barely talked to me, and the call was short and very unwelcoming. I asked her how her heart was doing. She told me she was getting weaker and now with Cherise, her wife,

who was ready to have a baby any day, she reconsidered another heart transplant. I was relieved to hear that. She said she would watch over Isabella and would get in touch with me again soon. I knew better. I phoned Isabella’s mother. I had to explain to her what happened. I didn’t want her to think I did something to hurt her intentionally. We had a long talk, and as I listened to her cry on the other end I told her a hundred times how sorry I was, how I didn’t want this, but I had to let her go. She cried, and I choked up when she said Isabella had not stopped crying since she had been home. I died inside again hearing that. I said I would stop in the restaurant when I could. She understood

somewhat and promised to stay in touch. I had lost so many people when I lost Isabella. ~~~~~~~~~~~ With my injury healing, I tried to come across as the strong leader I used to be. I was still the French Ambassador, and whatever was going on in my personal life would have to be pushed aside for me to do my job. As the days passed, I was in more of a daze. My behavior became erratic, and Gustan was the one I took my anger out on now. He seemed unaffected with my constant burst of rage and ignored my tantrums most times. He never wavered or became upset with me. Maybe from his own experience, he knew what I was

going through. My physical appearance began to show the effects of the devastation of the injury and not having Isabella. I wasn’t eating, and I drank most nights to get through them without her. Vodka had now replaced the pain medication. My face became pale and haggard. I didn’t shave, and I barely showered unless I went to the Embassy. My mother, who stopped in to see me once a week whether I wanted her to or not, noticed my drastic appearance. “My poor son, you look tired. If you were still a boy, I would take you over my knee for this behavior.” I shot her a look. I knew what she meant. We were sitting outside, and she wanted me

to eat. She brought over my favorite foods in hopes I would devour them with a vengeance. I ate nothing, but promised her I would later. I noticed I lied more than ever. I’d never lied to my family before, but lying was what I did a lot lately. “Mamma, I look like I’m seventy years old. I don’t care anymore.” “Yes, you do. You care, Fabrice. You have given up. You think you aren’t the strong man anymore. You want to hide and be left alone, and you have no purpose to live without Isabella.” My gaze left her face, and I looked down at the ground. My mother always knew me so well. “I want to talk to her, and I don’t

know how to reach her. Would you care if I called her?” I shrugged. “Sure, Mamma, but please don’t talk about me.” “I won’t, Fabrice. That’s your life and your choice. What I will do is talk to her as my friend. You know she and I became good friends. I miss her.” “I miss her too.” I could not speak any more. I walked out into the vineyards so my mother wouldn’t see me cry. The last time I cried in front of her I was ten years old, and my favorite cat died. That was the one time I let her see my feelings. I have not let anyone see me cry, except Isabella. During the funeral for my first wife, I kept myself together

and didn’t show any emotion until I was alone. I was taught not to show my feelings to others. As a man, I kept them hidden as much as possible. That morning was the last time she mentioned Isabella before I went back to Washington. She didn’t bring her up again, and I didn’t ask whether or not she talked to her. I didn’t want to know. The pain of knowing my mother spoke to her would hurt too badly. On the day I heard I was able to get back to Washington, Pierre called to inform me he found the boy. The boy they threatened to shoot in the café was found in a little apartment in Paris with his parents. Pierre stopped to see him and his family and reported to me he

was alive and fine. He said that his mother was not one of the dead, but was injured that day. Not from a bullet but from falling on her son and breaking her arm. Thank God. Apparently, Gustan shot the terrorist before they hurt her. My feelings of relief that that boy was sparred came over me. I breathed a sigh of relief hearing that one bit of good news. Pierre picked up on my disposition. “You don’t sound like yourself.” “I’m not myself, Pierre. I took your advice and sent Isabella home.” There was silence on the other end. “You didn’t tell her why did you?”

He was adamant that I didn’t tell anyone about Andrea or my brother. “I don’t want to talk about Isabella, Pierre. No, I didn’t tell her anything. She’s just gone.” “I’m sorry, Fabrice. This boy, wants to meet you sometime. Now wouldn’t be a good time until you are better both physically and mentally.” He was right. I didn’t want the boy to see me in the shape I was in. I didn’t want him to think my misery had anything to do with him. “When I come back to Paris will you set up a meeting with him and his family?” “I will certainly set that up. Let me know ahead of time and we will get you

there.” “Thank you, Pierre. That eases my mind somewhat.” “I’m so sorry, Fabrice. I hope things get better once you’re back in Washington.” I didn’t say much more. I was two drinks into the phone call and wanted to go to sleep. I didn’t want to talk anymore. I had nothing left to say. My parents stopped by to say goodbye to me as I packed. My father was also as devastated as my mother from missing Isabella. I explained to him as best I could, what happened and why. “Fabrice, that girl lived for you. Why? Why would you push her away?” “Because she needs better. With my life unrecognizable anymore, I

couldn’t do my job and be a good person to her.” How could I get these people to understand why I did what I did? No one seemed to understand why. “You shouldn’t have sent her home. You’re a mess. I smell the vodka and you look like hell. You need to get yourself together, son. Get back to Washington and see her. If that’s what it takes for you to live, then don’t throw her love away. You have a job you were appointed to and you need to take your position seriously.” I shook my head in agreement. I was embarrassed he noticed how bad I looked. “It’s not just that. I was horrible to her. My depression and anger were something she didn’t need to be around.”

I looked down not wanting to show the torment in my face. “Fabrice, she would have put up with you. She loved you. Love looks past flaws. Love looks past obstacles. You know that. Look how you loved Celeste. Look how I love your brother no matter what he did to me.” “This is not the same. She is a beautiful, young woman who has a whole life ahead of her. Plus, there are other things I can’t tell you right now.” I looked back up at him. Our gazes caught and I hoped he would understand. “A life she wanted with you. You have to know how much she loved you. I saw the way she looked at you. It’s the way your mother looks at me. It’s a love

you won’t find again. I knew when I met your mother as soon as I saw her. Nothing would keep me away from her.” I heard him. I knew. God, I knew.

My reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. I was thirty-eight years old and looked older, damaged, and unlovable. I wish I could turn back time and do that day over, when I was shot. Of all the days in my life that was the one. That day that not only took my pride and strength, but the love of my life was now gone. That day had taken a toll on my mind and my body. A toll I was

afraid I would never get back. I was sure this day had taken my Isabella from me forever. How could she love me now, after I hurt her so severely. I recognized many features of the naked thirty-eight year old body in front of me – tall, dark eyes and hair, broad chest and tapered waist. But the reflection in the mirror staring back at me also showed a man who wasn’t there before. That man stood strong and proud. This man was nothing short of broken. And not just the fucked up leg that was looking better than it had, but the hollow, sunken eyes, the prominent cheekbones, and new wrinkles were that of a weaker man than stared back at me a few months ago.

The shock of what I saw in the mirror traveled through my gaunt body. I wanted so badly to go back to my bed and hide. I didn’t have the strength to face the world and my responsibilities. I closed my eyes and tried to will time to go back to the day I was shot. That horrific day that I could not get past. I had never been a man scared of anything. I’ve looked terrorist in the eye and shot them in the head without blinking. I’ve flown helicopters into gunfire and not thought twice about the danger or the fear. I shuddered at the thought of being weak, of not being the man I used to be. I was in an abyss of depression. Darkness embraced me with a grip so tight I feared I would not see light again. I

couldn’t seem to fight my way out. Everyone told me how lucky I was. I survived an AK 47 gunshot. The bullet hit my leg, not my head, my chest or anywhere else that could have killed me. I was ready to go to my office and pretend to be the man appointed to this position. My clothes no longer fit me, and my overly big suit made me look as if I was dying. I’ve lost a lot weight since Isabella left. I didn’t want to eat. I didn’t’ care about myself. I was a walking dead man. I shoved my hands into my pocket and felt the ring. It’s there. It’s there every day with me. The ring promising my love to the one woman I needed. I made sure I had it with me every day. I

kept her ring with me in case. In case what? That she would come back to me? Why would she? I told her to leave. I broke her heart. The ring was a little piece of Isabella I still had. Every now and then when I would put my hands in my pockets, I would feel the diamond and think of her. Somehow, having her ring with me, gave me what little strength I had. I had a duty to serve my country as the Ambassador. As depressed as I was, tired, and in pain, my obligation to my country had to be fulfilled. I went to work every day and continued to do as was expected of me. General Morou was with me and helped me to get through as much as she could. I confided

in her one afternoon and told her what had happened. She, like everyone else, told me I was crazy and needed to get back with Isabella. Because of my current physical condition, she suggested I see a psychiatrist. That was something I couldn’t do. No one could see I was weak, not even a psychiatrist. I had to let things be and work out my problems myself. I met with the President of the United States, and he and I had a long talk about terrorism. I had not met with him personally since the Correspondence dinner. He asked if I had been sick. I was a little embarrassed and quickly informed him that I had not fully recovered from the gunshot and

was healing slower than I expected. It nearly killed me when he asked about Isabella. He wanted to know how she was doing. I didn’t know what to say other than she was fine and she and I would be coming to the dinner that year. Yet another lie. I went over the issue with my brother’s girlfriend. If anyone could be trusted with this information, it was the President. He agreed the information needed to be kept secret and offered to let some of his men find out more. I agreed that would be fine and didn’t mention I had my own men. Once again he promised to have my safety top priority while I was in Washington. He offered more security, but I declined for myself. I was fine and could handle it. I

did ask for a little extra protection for Isabella and her family. Since he seemed intrigued by Isabella from the dinner, he quickly agreed. President or not, he was still a man and Isabella was a woman he found extremely attractive, and I used that to my advantage. I met with my defense team at the Embassy and was informed my country was going to begin airstrikes targeting known cell groups in Syria. The Defense Ministry thought they had pinpointed their primary base of operations and were ready to strike. I sat through the meeting with as much poise and grace I could muster. I kept the image of being ruthless, strong, and unhinged. Everyone was buying the fake persona I put forth

except for a few people close to me. I kept my head cleared and trudged on. The nights at home without her nearly did me in. When I would get home at night, I’d go directly to my room with a bottle of vodka. The chef would prepare dinner for me, but the food would sit until the next day. Since I kept my comments to mostly a few grunts and groans, the chef thought it would be a good time to engage me in a conversation one night. I was in no mood to talk. “Where has your beautiful girlfriend been, Ambassador?” The question was unwelcomed and irritating. I stopped pouring a glass of water and slammed the glass on the counter. My

temper hit a nerve. The chef jumped and looked away. My avoidance of speaking told him the answer to that question. “Accept my apologies for intruding, Ambassador. I’m not used to my kitchen being so clean every day.” “Well, get used to it,” I grumbled, as I walked out leaving his dinner to sit untouched. I had been back for a while and settled into my life as the Ambassador in D.C. Things were back to usual at work. I kept my personal life separate from my work life, and I made everyone aware my issue was not open for discussion. The only one I would talk to about my life with was, my long time office manager, Fran. I confided in her as a

friend. She was the only one I trusted. I would not tolerate anyone asking me about the day I was shot. I made this perfectly clear to Fran that she needed to address the office staff and inform them my personal life was not to be discussed. I was strictly business at all times and the best thing they could do was not speak to me. I got through the days knowing I could escape some of my torture by drinking at night till I passed out. My nights would be sleepless if it weren’t for the vodka. ~~~~~~~~~~~ The flight to D.C was perfect. I was making love to the most beautiful woman on earth. I haven’t been up to par since the gun shot and it was a

week ago that I was able to satisfy her in the way I knew she needed as well as myself. As we flew above Europe and headed towards home, my face was buried in her luscious sweet pussy. Dear God. The most wonderful place to be was either my face or my dick inside her. Today she got both. Fuck she was wet. She was always wet but today something about today was different. She was warmer and tasted sweeter. I could stay in her cunt forever and be happy. “Oh, Fabrice. Oh God. I’m so close.” That was her favorite thing to say to me when she was teetering over the edge of an orgasm. She didn’t

realize it I’m sure. But, she said that every time. That’s when I ease up and make the need build up even stronger. I love to get her right at the edge and then pull her back. Let the orgasm build up even stronger so that when she did come, it shredded through her. It’s the most beautiful sound and feeling. I love having her quiver on my mouth and my cock. I love the sounds she makes. Her moans are incredible. They are what I live for. “I know baby. I know you are close. Not yet. I want you to hold back. Relax.” I whispered to her as I let my mouth stop sucking on her clit. Since the accident, I had done a lot of reading while I regained my

strength. Most had been for work, but some has been for pleasure. I wanted to try new things with Isabella. I wanted to see where else I could take her. “Fabrice, let me come.” Kissing her pussy lips, I felt her shiver under me. Another sign she was close to an orgasm. “I will get you there, baby. Hold on. Enjoy this.” I coaxed her. She faded away. No. Come back. I was waking up. Being back with Isabella was a dream. Making love to her was a fucking dream. I reached over to where she used to sleep. I was still living in hell without her. The quietness of my loneliness took over. Trying to take in the fact she was not coming back

in my life brought back the dark solace of my life. Only thoughts of Isabella could upset me so much. I had worked through the attack on my life. I got past those sounds, smells, and memories. Each day they were farther away from my mind. Each day I was without her, Isabella grew stronger in my thoughts. I woke up hard and in need of her. The dreams were so real. As I did most mornings after I dreamt of her, I showered off my sweaty, bony body. I tried so hard to get up every morning to start a new day with a better attitude. However, the despair could not be washed away as easily as the sweat covering me. The sight of her face when I told her we couldn’t get married was

forever ingrained in my memory. The pain I caused her that day could not be taken back. In the darkness of my misery, I whispered her name. No one would hear me, but maybe she would feel me saying it. Wherever she was at that moment, maybe she knew how much I needed her. As if she was in the other room I said the one thing I wanted to say. “I love you.”

There’s was a knock at my door. Why the fuck couldn’t people leave me alone. Every morning my day starts out like this. “Fabrice?” It was Gustan. The only person in my life I hadn’t told to go away. I tried, believe me. I tried hard as hell to get him the fuck out. He wouldn’t go. The door opened, and he looked

inside. “Are you ready to go?” I didn’t answer him. I never did. We went through this every day, and every day I responded the same, by not answering. I grabbed my suit coat, straightened my tie, and walked to the door. His eyes went from my face and over to my bed where an empty vodka bottle lay on its side. He knew what was going on with me. “You need some new clothes or you need to eat.” I needed to be Fabrice again, not this fucked up piece of shit. “Ronnie is downstairs waiting to take you to the office. Here, drink this coffee.” He handed me a to-go cup of coffee he brewed for me like he did

every morning. I grabbed the cup and took a sip to shut him up. My stomach clenched when the warm liquid hit. The only thing going into my stomach lately has been vodka. I stumbled as I slid into the back of the SUV. I no longer needed the cane, but I walked with a permanent limp, and drinking the night away didn’t help my balance. Ronnie, like everyone else in my life, knew after so many weeks not to talk to me. I wouldn’t answer. I never did. He nodded as I struggled to get in the back seat. The back seat I had taken Isabella in so many times. The back seat held the memories of her straddling me as I rammed my cock into her. That was

when I was able to make love to her like a real man. I ate her out right there as she clawed at my hair and begged me to let her come. I shook the memory out of my mind. I had to keep myself together. Like every morning, I stared out the tinted window watching the traffic and looking for Isabella. Every morning I scanned the pedestrians looking for the one woman that stole my heart and my love. I needed to see her one more time. I needed to know she was okay. I swore a woman on the street was Isabella one morning. She had the same hair, and same body. She was dressed like Isabella. My heart jumped in my chest. The closer we drove to this person, I realized that woman wasn’t her. I kept

searching, always searching. That’s what forced me to the office every morning. The thought I may catch a glimpse of my girl. That hair flowing across her face, and that body that brought me to my knees, those breasts that I wouldn’t touch or have in my mouth again. As we approached the Embassy, I mentally became ready to do my job. Gustan sat next to me ready to jump out and help my fucked up self out of the car. Frustration and anger tore at me as I walked up to the elevator like a wounded animal to the office. Today, I had several meetings with my staff, a call to Russia, and another briefing on the attack that nearly took my life. My country caught the fucking bastards in

charge of this attack. Andrea Noir was not with them. She was another mystery that could not be solved. I felt Isabella was somewhat safer now that most of the men were killed or captured. I wouldn’t be truly at peace till this Andrea was annihilated. I read a full report of the attack on me. The terrorists watched me when I was in Paris. They didn’t have the balls to get me in Washington. These cowards wanted to get me in my homeland, and wanted to kill my people along with me. I thank God, Isabella wasn’t with me that day. They knew I went to the Le Chocolatier Coffee Shop every day for lunch and knew that day would be crowded with people. I was told the group had been following me

since I was appointed the Ambassador, lying in wait until the right moment presented itself. To these pieces of shit, the right moment was a crowded coffee shop full of people. I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the glass doors. I looked like a fucking homeless man. Gustan was right. I needed to get some better fitting clothes. “Good Morning Ambassador.” “Fran.” I nodded. Fran tried every day to get me to smile. I couldn’t smile. I would never smile again. She had more food for me. Every morning she handed me food, but I didn’t want it. This game went on every day with me waiting till she walked out and I

would throw the food in the trash. “Ambassador. You need to eat.” Her gaze followed me up and down. I’m sure I was a sight even to Fran. “Thanks Fran. I’m aware of that. Leave the food on my desk and I will eat later.” I threw my bags down and sat down at my desk. “No.” I looked up at her. My brow furrowed angrily. I didn’t need this ever, much less on a busy day. And who was she to argue with me? “No?” I asked. She didn’t jump at the tone in my voice. “No, I did that yesterday and every day for the last month only to have you throw my food in the garbage. The cleaning crew told me.” Her eyes never

left my face as she stood in front of me with her arms crossed. I didn’t say anything else as I opened my laptop, turned on the news and went to work. “I want to watch you eat something. I’m not leaving here until you do.” She kept her stance in front of me. “I don’t need a babysitter.” This woman had balls taking me on. “It seems you do, Ambassador. You need to eat so you don’t end up in the hospital again. Please.” I reached for the food and opened a container to find it was filled with chicken noodle soup. The soup smelled good. I would take a few bites to get her to leave. She unwrapped a plastic spoon

and handed it to me with a napkin. My eyes bore into her. Fran was a tiny woman with no sense of fashion or style. She still permed her hair once a month and insisted on taking the bus into work every day. She didn’t care about how she looked but she was the best office manager in the world. She sat down in the chair across form me, folded her arms, and waited. She was really going to watch me. She smiled after I took a second bite. The soup tasted fine. Not as good as what my Isabella could cook. “Happy?” I asked, not smiling back. “No, I’ll be happy when you can

eat a steak again like you used to. I’ll be happy when I see you put on some weight. I’ll be happy when I see you smile and I’ll be happy when you have Isabella back.” This damn woman. I loved her. My stomach wasn’t accepting the soup as well as I thought. I drank the warm broth and left the noodles. “You know I talked to her last week.” She said with an urgent tone in her voice. My heart skipped a beat. I knew what she meant. I knew who she talked to. I looked up and tried to read what she was going to say before she spoke. “She’s a mess, Ambassador. Isabella loves you so much. She is

thinner, unkept, and depressed. Her eyes looked like she had been crying nonstop, and her face looked so troubled.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. My girl looked bad. She could never look bad. “Did you make her soup?” I asked, to lighten the mood. “Yes, as a matter of fact I did. But, she has her family around her, so I don’t need to babysit her. They won’t leave her side. They’re very worried about her. I have never seen such a family. And her roommate with the heart problem is in the hospital again.” What? Avery in the hospital? Oh God, Isabella would be a mess. I promised if something happened to

Avery, I would be there for Isabella. I broke another promise. “Who was with her?” I asked. “Her mom won’t leave her. Her sister Sophia and the baby. Isabella’s niece is the cutest baby I’ve ever seen.” Oh my God. What have I done to my girl? I reached into my pocket and felt for the ring again. She was living her life without me.

The

first few months after I arrived back from Paris, things were quiet and a good time to get readjusted to my role as the Ambassador. One of those adjustments was hosting an event at the mansion. I had to force myself to have a black tie affair at my home. I wasn’t looking forward to socializing. The thought of people traipsing through my home and asking where Isabella was,

sounded like a nightmare. However, entertaining was part of the job. A job I chose before this and one I was obligated to keep. Since I had not spoken publicly about the attack, this was a good time to answer any questions and make an appearance. The morning of the affair, I woke up pissed off and in pain. My leg hurt from exercising too much and I needed to dull the ache somehow. Vodka would do the job. I was pathetic drinking in the morning. I had not been much of a big drinker until the attack. Now, here I was having a double shot with breakfast to face the start of my day. The caterers were already scurrying around while I showered and

dressed. I wanted to go to the office a couple of hours before the bullshit started. Security was going to be a bitch. With what was going on in the Middle East, my so called assassination attempt, and my brother possibly linked to the widow of a known terrorist, Gustan felt the need to add extra measures. The extra measures were more armed guards at the door and metal detectors outside before the guests walked in. “Good morning, Ambassador.” The cook was in an all-out sweat with these strangers in his kitchen, he would have a fit if Isabella cooked, and I hoped he was stressed to the limit. I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to talk. I wanted a cup of coffee to go with

my vodka waiting for me in my room. “Can I make you breakfast?” I stopped what I was doing and turned to look at him. “We go through this song and dance every morning and what do I say?” His gaze locked onto mine, seemingly surprised that I answered with anything other than a no. “You say, ‘no’,” he murmured. “Okay, so why would today be any different?” He shrugged. I walked over to the coffee pot and chose a strong blend and brewed a cup. I don’t know why he feels the need to harass me every morning with this eating shit.

“This place will be getting crazy soon.” I felt bad for snapping at him so I made a little small talk. This new attitude of mine was going to ruin me if I didn’t get a hold of myself. There was no need to be a dick to people who had nothing to do with my situation. “Yes, the caterers are already destroying my kitchen. I will be glad when the night is over.” He busied himself at the stove stirring some kind of shit. “You and me both.” I grabbed my coffee and walked back upstairs to finish getting ready. While I was gone, my home was transformed into what resembled a night club. Usually, this type of thing didn’t

bother me until after the attack. I seem not to have patience for anything social. The night was endless and so were the drinks I was consuming. I tried not to make it obvious I was drunk by the time the last guests left. Women were throwing themselves at me left and right and I had no interest in any of them. The thought actually sickened me. These weren’t just any women. The women in my home that night were highly sought after models and socialites. The type I liked to fuck back in the day. Before Isabella, I would have thought nothing about taking a couple up to my room. Yes, I would take a couple. Back then, I loved a good threesome. That was all behind me now and something I would

not consider again. Gustan offered to find me a woman several times. I couldn’t and I wouldn’t. If there was no Isabella in my life, there was no one. No matter how hard I willed her to walk through that door, it wasn’t going to happen. My eyes stayed glued to the front door, imagining her walk through the door as she did the night of the gala. Her parents usually attended these things, but this one was not one of them. I looked for them, hoped to see them, but this was more for government officials. I had to make my way around the party and talk about things that didn’t interest me. I told the story about the attack at least fifty times, answered questions about what it felt like to be shot, and

asked when I was going back to Paris. I made small talk with the Secretary of State, the Defense Minister, and the Head of Homeland Security. Just another night in the life of an Ambassador. When the night was over and the ass kissing ended, I was exhausted, in pain, and quite drunk. I fell into bed and slept for a few hours until the next day brought a hangover and more pain, both physical and mental. I was living a life of hell from day to day with no escape. ~~~~~~~~~~~ I considered showing up for Sunday dinner one day at Isabella’s house. What would happen? Would she see me? Would her family be glad to see me? I was so lonely that the idea of

being with family sounded inviting. I drove the thought out of my mind when the phone rang and snapped me out of my crazy idea. “Yeah.” I said into my phone. “Fabrice, its Romain.” I rolled my eyes. “Romain, how are you?” I was still playing the idiot game about what I knew and pretending like nothing was different. We still haven’t determined his true connection to Andrea. I still and would forever blame him for losing Isabella. To talk to him again was torture. “I’m not good.” I could care less. “What’s wrong?” Christ if he asked me for money, I would have

thrown the phone across the room. “My fiancé has been missing for weeks now, and the police are questioning me about her disappearance.” “You mean Andrea is missing?” I laid the shock on good and strong. “Yes, I haven’t heard from her in over a month. She hasn’t answered my texts, calls, or my emails. That isn’t like her.” “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you know where she could have gone? Does she have family somewhere that may have decided to visit? “I don’t know. I guess I don’t know that much about her. “How long have you known her,

Romain?” This was an excellent opportunity to drill him for more information. “I met her at an AA meeting a year ago. We clicked right away and fell in love almost immediately.” “I don’t know why you are calling me with this? What do you want me to do?” “I thought maybe you would have some inside pull since you’re the Ambassador.” Of course he did. He only used me for what he could get out of me. “I don’t have a magic mirror, but I’ll see what I can do. You have no idea where she could be. She said nothing to you? “ “No, she didn’t. I’m just worried,

Fabrice.” “I understand. Can you tell me more about her? Maybe something about her family or the places she goes on business trips?” He was making this too easy for me. “I think pretty well. She has no family and she doesn’t share much of her past life with me. I don’t know, Fabrice, how well do we know anyone?” An ironic statement coming from him. “Has she gone away like this before?” I heard a sigh on the phone and as he hesitated. That hesitation could mean a lot. “She travels a lot. She is always going somewhere. But, this is different. It’s very unusual that I’ve not heard from

her. She usually calls me every couple of days if she is traveling.” “Well, let me see what we can do and if you hear from her let me know.” He agreed and hung up. I’d had a hard time reading him very well on the phone. I wasn’t sure I could truly believe what he told me. Pierre was in Washington at a meeting with other top officials to discuss terrorism in my home country. He asked to see me, and I set some time aside for him and me to meet over lunch. The last time we spoke was to find out if the boy in the coffee shop had survived. We had not spoken since then. I agreed to meet him at a popular diner close to the Embassy. When I arrived, he was

already inside enjoying a bowl of chili and a coffee. The sight of the food made me sick. I ordered a coffee, but didn’t touch it. “Fabrice,” He stood up to greet me. I saw the look in his face when he saw the changes in me. My weight loss was evident to everyone. “You look thin. How are you?” Pain racked me as I slid into the vinyl booth across from him. I didn’t know how to answer, so I avoided the question. “I don’t know. How have you been?” He watched me intently. Even with his wrinkled suit and tired appearance, he still looked better than I did.

“I’ve been good. I would have met with you sooner but you took off, and I have been so busy trying to get this threat from these fucking radicals taken care of. In the midst of missing my Isabella, I had put everything else out of my mind. “I know you’re still not with Isabella. I spoke to your mom last week.” I winced at his bluntness. I nodded my head. He crumbled up three small bags of oyster crackers and dumped them in is chili. “You need to get her back. You’re dying without her. If you could only see what we see, Fabrice. You need her.” I looked away unable to meet his

gaze or watch him eat. I forced myself to stay composed like the man I was supposed to be. I pushed my shoulders back and sat up as straight as my body would let me. I kept the stern look on my face, not giving away how much I needed her. That was so difficult when Isabella was involved. It tore me apart. “She needs more than me now, Pierre. She isn’t safe with me.” Pierre laid his spoon down and pointed his finger at me. “Who are you to decide that for her? Are you God? Can you read her mind?” I said nothing. He sat in front of me, wiped his mouth and folded his arms across his chest. “You were spared for a reason.

You have a life to live and a woman who needs you as much as you need her. Don’t throw your love away. You needed to get her home, but the way you handled the situation was harsh. Isabella is a smart woman. You could’ve went about sending her home in a better way.” I nervously ran my hand through my thinning hair. I agreed with him and knew all of this. I was out of my mind then. I wasn’t thinking straight. We sat in silence and he finished his meal. Once outside, we stood by my SUV. Ronnie and Gustan were waiting for me. Pierre and I shook hands and he gave me a quick hug. “I will be in the meeting we have tomorrow. We can talk more after,

maybe get a drink. You need to take care of yourself my friend. Please get well.” I nodded my head at him and climbed back into the car. Gustan sat in the back seat on his laptop. The bastard was getting on my nerves hanging around all the time. “Where to, Ambassador?” Ronnie asked. I gave him the address to Isabella’s parents restaurant. I had no idea why, I knew I had to go.

Ronnie

looked at me in the rearview mirror with a smile. “Will do.” Gustan looked at me in a questionable manner. “What?” I snapped. “Are you going to eat now?” He was being a sarcastic asshole. “No, I’m going to find Isabella. I can’t go on anymore.” “Smart idea. I don’t know if she is there, though.” He didn’t take his eyes

off his laptop. “What do you mean?” I turned my body toward him and shot him a look. He finally looked back at me. “I’ve been following her, remember? Fridays are usually her days off.” I narrowed my brow at him. Gustan was more a part of her life than I was. I still wanted to go to the restaurant. I could feel out the reception I would receive from her family and then go from there. I arrived after lunch time, which was good. Not too crowded, but people were in there and I didn’t want anyone to notice me. I was being talked about constantly in the news, and the paparazzi stalked me to see if I suffered from some

incurable disease. Ronnie pulled the car up front, and I slipped in quickly. I had a strange feeling walking into the restaurant. I had not been in there since before the shooting. The familiar smell of garlic hit me as soon as the doors opened, making my stomach hurt. Of course, I was greeted by Isabella’s mother who was at the hostess station. She looked at me once and it didn’t register who I was. She pulled out a menu and then stopped as she looked at me again. “Oh my god, Ambassador. I didn’t even recognize you. Are you here to eat?” I saw the disgust on her face, and the look of shock in her eyes. She walked up to me and pulled me into her

arms. Having Isabella’s mother embrace me, was wonderful. “No, I’m here to see Isabella. Is she here?” Tears filled her eyes, and she called for Mr. Piori. “Danny, come here,” she yelled towards the kitchen as she kept her tear filled eyes on me. “She’s at home today, Ambassador. Let me get you something to eat. Danny made a pot of minestrone. You can take the soup with you.” “Thank you, but I couldn’t eat. “Her face showed panic as if she was looking at a dying man. Mr. Piori came out of the kitchen dressed in his usual outfit of all black and a white apron that he was wiping his hands on. His face

showed concern and anger at first. When he looked me over, his face turned to pity and fear. I must look worse than I realized. He shook my hand and spoke. “Isabella is at our house. Go there. It’s only her there today. She needs you, Fabrice.” Hearing that from Isabella’s father was a relief. He was a very tough man who was very protective of his daughters. “I need her too, as you can see.” I hung my head in despair. Mrs. Piori took me in her arms again and held me close to her. “You poor boy. I don’t understand any of this.” She let me go and my eyes roamed

between both of them looking for anything else they could tell me. I was eager to get out of there and find Isabella. “I will see you soon. Maybe by then I will be up for the minestrone.” I smiled and walked out the door. The drive to Isabella’s home from the restaurant was short and stressful. Ronnie knew the way, and within minutes, the car pulled into the driveway. I hesitated, staying in the car and staring at the house. Was this the right thing to do? I had to. I couldn’t go another day without seeing her. “Ronnie wait here. I don’t know how long I will be. She may not even want to see me.”

Ronnie slid out of the front seat and opened the door for me. “Take your time, Ambassador. I’m in no hurry.” Gustan started to get out and I put my hand up to stop him. “Gustan, let me do this without you hovering over me. You two go get some lunch, make out, or do something.” My sense of humor was coming back. Gustan shot me a look. “Wow, turning into a comedian. That’s a good sign.” I ignored him and started walking. The walk up to the porch was one of apprehension and excitement. The tension in my shoulders radiated to my neck. My leg throbbed, but I walked through the agony. I was determined not to let my leg keep me from her again.

Of all the fear and terrifying moments I have faced in my life, that moment was the most fearful. That moment I stepped on my Isabella’s porch and stood within feet of her, my heart raced, and my stomach clenched. What if she didn’t want to see me? What if she was with someone else? I would not have a reason to go on anymore. I was bound and determined to get her back if it killed me. I have been a man that went after what he wanted. I wanted her the first time I saw her and I would have her again. Nothing stopped me when I was set on something. I knocked and waited. Her mom said she was alone. I heard footsteps. I kept my hands in my pockets and held

my breath. I felt the ring. Would she wear this again? The door opened and there she was. My beautiful angel stood in front of me. She gasped. Her hands went to her face as her face distorted with pain. I heard “Oh My God.” She was dressed in jeans, a college t-shirt, and she was barefoot. Her hair was put up on top of her head and she was so much thinner. Her curves were prominent still, and her breasts pulled her shirt tight. She was still the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. No one compared to her. The need to have her hit me with a force I had not felt before. My gaze took her in from head to toe.

She fell to the ground crying. Her hands were covering her eyes, and her body shook. I didn’t know if the tears were from the pain of seeing me, or because she was happy to see me. I reached down and picked her up and held her to my body. I sucked in a breath and looked into her watery eyes. “You’re not Fabrice.” Her hands went to my face as she placed her palms on my cheeks looking into my eyes. Only then did I realize how different I looked. I grabbed her hands and kissed them. Her skins familiar taste woken my dying senses. We stood looking at each other. Isabella’s soft, cold hands were squeezing mine tight, her eyes were spilling over with tears, and her breath

catching in her throat. “I am. It’s me. I’m dying without you.” Her face had turned to white and she shook. The pain of the memories without her slammed into my head. The desolate nights alone, the fear of her not loving me again, and the need to touch her made me gasp. I let go of her hands and pulled Isabella’s head towards my chest. She melted into my body. My heart beat so loud I heard the pounding in my ears. She kept her head rested on my chest as she continued to speak. “Are you sick?” My hands stroked her hair. “No, not officially. I’m heartbroken.” She looked up at me again.

“How did you know I would be home?” “Your parents told me. I stopped by the restaurant before this.” “You shouldn’t have come here,” she murmured through her tears. Her hands went to wipe her tears away. “I couldn’t stay away another second. I had to come. I had to see you. I’m dying of a broken heart, Isabella. I never thought that was true. I’m not going to live without you.” Without thinking, I pulled her closer to me again, and kissed her hard. Her hands raked my hair. I thrust my tongue into her warm sweet mouth. Jesus Christ. She moaned and accepted my kiss. I was starved from not eating and

even more starved for her. Our hearts both beat against each other’s chest. I wanted her so bad. My life would not be my own without her. She didn’t push me away. She wasn’t sickened by me, or at least, she didn’t act like the sight of me was appalling. I kissed her again. Her lips tasted so good I couldn’t get enough. I was home again. She suddenly pushed away from me and put up her hand. Something was different. Her eyes looked broken and sad. “I can’t do this Fabrice. Not yet. Not again.” She stepped farther away from me. My heart sank.

“Please don’t push me away. I can’t go on without you. I swear I will die. Let me come inside to talk to you. I don’t want Gustan and Ronnie watching, or God forbid the paparazzi. They are following me everywhere trying to find out what is wrong with me.” Without saying a word, she stepped aside and let me in. I walked into Isabella’s family home reluctantly. I had been in there several times before, but this time, my senses were on high alert. I noticed something cooking on the stove. I could smell the familiar aroma of spices and sauce. The clock was ticking in the distance, and I noticed the news was on in the living room. I stood in the open

foyer and pleaded my case. “I love you. I can’t go on without you.” I whispered, as she stood against the wall with her arms crossed. Her eyes bore into me. I walked up closer to her, not touching her. I felt her breath on my skin. “Why did you do that to me? I didn’t want to leave you. The way you treated me that morning killed me.” She took her fists and pounded my chest, not hard but enough to make me realize she was still upset over what I had done. I grabbed her fists and held them to me. She didn’t pull away again. I had to say the right thing. My head was foggy. “I was a mess, Isabella. I was

taking too many pain pills, I was afraid I couldn’t satisfy you, I thought you needed better than me. I was so angry at being shot.” She recoiled and stepped away from me. “You hurt me, Fabrice.” I hung my head. I knew what I did. We stood in the foyer in silence again. “What you did to us was shitty, Fabrice. The wedding was announced. People were making plans to come to Paris, I was going to marry my best friend.” She was crying now. The tears were pouring out her eyes. She walked off somewhere and came back with a tissue to wipe her face. What could I say to that? What the fuck had I done?

“I’m sorry, Isabella. I love you so much, that the thought of you having to deal with my depression and mood swings pushed me to send you home.” She looked at me and waited. “I hope you understand; I thought of you when I sent you home. I thought having you leave was for the best. I didn’t know how to start that utter nightmare other than make you pissed off at me.” My voice was strained. I felt weak. Weaker than I had in a while. I needed to sit down, but I couldn’t. I squeezed my eyes shut to get my balance. My stomach was queasy. “All those nights I cried for you. I begged God to bring you back to me. I thought I was going to die myself when I

came back here without you. You made love to me so perfectly the night before and then the next day you told me to leave. I wanted to die. I didn’t care about anything. I wasn’t able to get out of bed and start living again till last week.” “I wasn’t thinking straight, Isabella.” She didn’t meet my gaze. She was looking at the floor. I lifted her chin and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Look at you. Why are you doing this to yourself?” She asked angrily. I couldn’t answer her, yet I didn’t want the conversation to end. I didn’t want to leave her. I looked away from her trying to think of something to say.

“Why are you here now? If you did all that so I would have a good life without you, why are you here now?” She was beginning to raise her voice at me. I noticed her hands now in her pockets. “Because, I can’t go on without you. I had to see you. I have to hold and kiss you. I want to make love to you as best as I can. I need you back. You are mine and I miss you so fucking much.” “That’s not a good enough answer, Fabrice.” She looked at me now continuing to wipe her eyes with her tissue. “What do you want me to say? It’s the only answer I have. It’s the truth.” “So you can do this to me again

when the road gets rough. So you can push me away again when we hit another bump that might be difficult. That’s not what a couple does.” I felt like I was going to pass out. The room began spinning. What the fuck was wrong with me. “Can I get a glass of water?” I leaned up against the wall to anchor myself and not fall over. She nodded and walked towards the kitchen. “Come on in and sit down, Fabrice.” She went to the fridge and grabbed me a bottle of cold water. I sat down at the counter on a stool. “Would you eat something if I fixed food for you? I could make you a sandwich?” Fuck I would eat anything

she fixed for me. I couldn’t eat, yet. “I can’t eat right now.” I straightened in my chair and sipped the water Isabella handed me. The light in the kitchen was bright, and I was able to get a good look at her eyes. They were tired, with dark circles underneath. Her beautiful, full lips were drawn down into a frown. “I don’t know what to say, Fabrice. I don’t know how we can get past this. You broke my heart.” “I loved you. I wanted you to have a good life and I didn’t think you would have one with me. Not in the shape I was in. I was so mean to you and took out my pain on you when you were so good to me.”

“First of all, who are you to say what kind of life I should have? Did I once complain or yell? No, I loved taking care of you. Was it hard seeing you like that? Of fucking course! I knew your injury wasn’t going to last. I know how you are tough and wouldn’t accept that as your life. I didn’t care how long you took to get well. That’s what love is, Fabrice.” She leaned up against the fridge. God, I wanted to hold her in my arms and comfort her. She narrowed her eyes at me. I had fired her up and she became angry. In the large open kitchen her anger at me and hurt permeated the space. She took her hands out of her pockets and ran one of them through her hair.

My throat became tight. The water was helping, and the sudden queasiness I encountered earlier was subsiding. I looked around the kitchen and saw baby toys. Her sister’s baby. I forgot about her. “Please, accept my apology. I was a total disgrace to myself, and I thought I would be to you. I’m so sorry. You have to know that wasn’t me that told you to leave. I fell in love with you the night of the gala. As soon as my eyes met yours, I knew. You were the one. You will always be the one. The minute you left me I fell apart. Being without you has been hell, Isabella.” I sipped the cold water waiting for her response. Exhaling deeply, I looked at her.

“I can’t let you stroll in here and I’m supposed to trust that you won’t do this to me again. You were hurt? I can’t go through losing you again, Fabrice. I have too much going on in my life right now. My brother, my sister’s baby, my future. I can’t let you do that to me again. I shot her a look. “What is going on with your brother? And which one?” “It’s Danny. It’s a long story. He was being questioned in the death of Anthony.” My heart sank. Anthony was Isabella’s abusive boyfriend that apparently killed himself in his parent’s garage. “I thought he killed himself? “I asked, thinking that was a done deal. “Yeah, well it turns out he may

have had some assistance. I can’t think about that shit right now.” She scrubbed her face with her hands. Her voice turned to shaky sobs. It took everything I had not to grab her in my arms, put her in the car and take her home with me. “I don’t expect you to jump in my bed and forget. I love you more than anything. You are my hope and my dreams. I can tell you that I want you in my life now and forever. Through the good times and the bad. If you look at me right now, you will see without you I’m nothing. I want to marry you, have children with you, and love you till I take my last breath. Just know that, and if you feel the same, my arms are open.”

Reluctantly I stood up from the bench and looked her over one last time. She was crying and her eyes were not looking at me. We both needed each other. She was mine and only mine. I pulled her ring out of my pocket and laid it in front of her. She gasped. “I’ve been carrying this with me every day since you left. I hope you will wear this ring again and spend the rest of your life with me. It’s yours, and you are the only one who can be my wife.

The ride back to the office was silent. Ronnie knew better than to ask me how things went. Gustan sat quietly next to me. My body was racked with pain inside and out. I stared out the darkened window of the SUV, lost inside the misery of my own thoughts. That didn’t go as I had planned and yet, I shouldn’t have expected anything more. I cannot break off an engagement and then expect

her to take me back with open arms. I may be a rich and powerful man, but she was a woman with needs of her own, with feelings and with a life. I hope she understood the sincerity in my words. I hope she will find it in her heart to love me back again as much as I still loved her. I should have told her the truth. I should have told her the real reason I sent her home. I couldn’t do that yet. I don’t know why? I watched the traffic as Ronnie took me back to the Embassy. I had a full day ahead of me with meetings and phone calls. At least keeping busy would take my mind off my misery. Fran was at her desk eating lunch when I returned. Thankfully, she was the

only one there. Her gaze caught mine, and she knew by the look on my face that I needed to be left alone. She said nothing, and pretended to be busy working while she ate. I walked back to my office and shut the door. I felt torn apart, and yet I had a job to do. I wanted to go home and drink away the pain. The picture of Isabella was on my desk. I picked the snapshot up and looked into her eyes. She was smiling and happy. She was mine in that picture. Would she ever be mine again? My phone buzzed snapping me out of my thoughts. “Yes, Fran.” “You have a visitor.” “Tell whoever is here, I’m in a

meeting.” “It’s a crying woman. It’s not Isabella,” she whispered into the phone. What the shit? A crying woman? “Who is she?” Still whispering she informed me who was out there. “She says her name is Marin, and you were her fiancé once.” I rolled my eyes and sighed. Not today. I didn’t want to see her today of all days. I had blown her off numerous times and should have known she would show up eventually. Marin didn’t take no for an answer. God dammit. I might as well get this meeting over with. “Send her in Fran. Interrupt me in ten minutes with an emergency of some sort. I don’t want her in here too long.”

“Yes, Ambassador.” In a couple of seconds there was a light tap at my door. Fran poked her head in and behind her was Marin, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Fran walked in and set a cup of coffee down on my desk. “Thank you, Fran.” I nodded at her and my gaze caught hers. I didn’t get up. Marin wasn’t worth my effort to stand. “What can I do for you, Marin? “Fabrice.” She rushed to me, and I put a hand up. Her eyes were filled with mischief, alerting me to the fact she was up to no good. “Take a seat, Marin. I don’t have much time. I have constant meetings back

to back.” I sipped my coffee. “I’ve wanted to see you since I heard you were shot. My God, Fabrice. I was so worried about you. I tried to get in touch with you many times. Did you get the flowers I sent you?” I didn’t fucking know. I couldn’t have cared less if she sent me flowers. There were so many flowers and gifts that came. Fran took over sending thank you cards and I’m sure she sent one to Marin. “Yes, thank you,” I agreed to be polite and shut her up. “How are you feeling? You look so, so thin.” “Getting shot with a high powered weapon, even though I was shot in my leg, is quite devastating. I’m getting

better every day.” I took a deep breath, wondering where this little rendezvous was headed. She sat in silence wiping her eyes of supposed tears I didn’t see. I looked at my watch. “What can I do for you, Marin?” She looked at me. Her light blue eyes appeared icy and calculating. She had such cold eyes compared to Isabella’s that were warm and inviting. She was up to something, she always was. “I heard you were single again. I wanted to see if I could come over and take you out to dinner one night. I would love to help you and maybe cook for you and…”

I cut her off. “That’s not a good idea.” “Why not? You need a woman to take care of you in the kitchen and the bedroom. We had a wonderful time together, and I think being with me would help you right now.” I blew out my breath. I didn’t need this shit today. “I’m good. In fact, Isabella and I are back together. When I was shot, it took a toll on both of us. Isabella sat up with me at night when I was in pain, took my mood swings, and fed me when I didn’t have the strength to eat. We had a lot of alone time in Paris. If anyone will help me in the kitchen or my bed, it’s her.”

She gasped. “I heard you broke off the engagement. That was the smartest thing you could have done. She is not for you, Fabrice. She doesn’t understand you like I do. She’s not as compatible. You can’t be back with her.” I was becoming pissed off quickly. The sight of her was putting me in a shitty mood. I sipped my coffee and looked at my watch again. I had about five more minutes of this hell before Fran would call me. “I loved you, Fabrice. I still love you. We were meant to be together.” She was dressed in a tight fitting red dress, nude shoes, and her hair pulled back in a chignon. She was letting the dress ride seductively up her thigh. I’m still

somewhat a man and she looked fucking hot. If you didn’t know her or she didn’t open up her mouth, she was fuckable. I even thought she was fuckable at one time, but that was all she was good for. She didn’t love me like Isabella did. She would have never stayed with me in Paris like Isabella did. “No, you didn’t. You loved the idea of being with an Ambassador. You didn’t love me, Marin. I didn’t love you. We both used each other. You are not and will never be Isabella.” Her expression distorted into sadness and anger. I hit a nerve. “Thankfully I’m not her. What do you see in her? She’s a classless Italian.”

I could no longer control myself. I stood up and began to walk around my desk. Her eyes suddenly shown fear. “That’s enough, Marin. I think it’s time for you to leave. We’re done with this meeting.” “Give me another chance, Fabrice.” “I don’t love you, Marin. Now stop begging. With your money, you can have any man out there. There are plenty others for you to choose from.” Suddenly her face changed to the vindictive evil witch I knew she was. She stood up and walked over to me. The scent of her familiar perfume, burned my nose. “You’ll regret this, Fabrice. Mark my words. I will ruin her. You don’t

think I can. I messed with her before and I will hurt her again. Maybe not her directly, but I will hurt her somehow.” I remembered her sending pictures of me and my first wife’s sister in Paris out to dinner. She tried to make Isabella think I was having an affair with her. If she was a man I would have flattened her. It took all my strength not to punch her in the face. What the fuck did I ever see in this glorified whore? Rage surged through me and through gritted teeth. I let her know she will not make threats anymore. “You do anything to her or anyone she loves, and I will ruin you. Don’t test me, Marin.” She laughed. “You’re no threat. I

heard you barely can do your job. You can’t fuck your girlfriend, and you drink yourself into a stupor every night. What can you do to me? Not a damn thing.” The rage to hurt her brew inside me. “Get the hell out of my office before I have you thrown out. I can make one call, and your bony ass will end up in jail. Do you want to test me, Marin? You are making threats to a government official. I can make your life miserable if you want to play the game. One call and you will be someone’s bitch in jail by tonight.” “Fuck you.” She yelled. Her face was bright red now and matched her overly processed hair. “No thank you. I would rather be

shot again than touch you.” I walked over and threw the door open. “You will regret this, Fabrice. I guarantee you will.” I wanted her out of my face. The sight of her enraged me. “What I regret is ever touching you or wasting a second of my life on you. Stay the fuck away from Isabella and me.” She narrowed her brow at me and huffed out of my office. I wanted to slam the door behind her, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction she upset me. I quietly shut the door and sat down to finish my cold coffee. That woman had been a pain in my ass when I was fucking her and she was even worse now that I wasn’t. I don’t know how I

tolerated her for as long as I did. When I knew she was gone, I stepped out of my office to apologize for her behavior. “That woman is a menace.” Fran nodded in agreement, and nervously went to get me a freshly brewed coffee. I thanked her and went back to work. Ten minutes after my party with Marin, the phone on my desk flashed from Fran. I picked the receiver up expecting the call I was waiting for from the ambassador of Ecuador. “Put him through, Fran,” I said without hesitation. “Fabrice?” “Isabella?”

“I wanted to hear your voice. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have called you at work.” My heart raced in my chest, and relief poured over me hearing her voice. I straightened in my chair. “I love you, Isabella.” My eyes were closed as I silently thanked God she called. “Can I come over tonight? We can talk more, and I want to make sure you

eat.” “I’ll be home after seven. Let yourself in or wait till I get there and I will see you as soon as I can.” I heard her crying on the phone. My heart jumped in my chest, and I took a deep breath. “Don’t cry, baby.” “I want you to know, I don’t know.” “Tell me, what?” I sat back in my chair and took in the beauty of her voice. That voice that soothed me during my roughest nights. “I want you to know, I need you as much as you need me. I’ve been so alone and lost without you. Things are going to take time. I can’t give you my heart back

all at once.” A tear slid down my face. I brushed it away as I listened to the words I needed to hear. “As long as I have you back in my life we’ll work on our relationship. I don’t expect you to fully forgive me right away. But you should know, I never stopped loving you, not for a second.” “I never did either, Fabrice. I will be there around seven.” I hung up the phone, and was amazed at how much better I felt in those few short minutes. Her words ran through me and awakened my dying body. The rest of my day went quickly. I had my meetings, physical therapy, and had coffee with Fran at the end of our

day. My physical therapy nearly killed me. My therapist, Steve upped my workouts now that I didn’t need a cane to walk. I busted my ass in the gym to get back to my old self. I would not accept anything other than where I was. My chest was heaving with strain and every muscle in my body burned. I liked the feeling of a good workout. I was lifting weights again and I felt pumped. My impromptu meeting with that witch Marin spurred my anger to work out harder. If I ever saw her again in my lifetime, it would be too soon. In the back of my mind, I knew it wasn’t the end of her tirade. Nothing scared that bitch when she was on a mission. I rushed home and took a shower. I

had made sure the refrigerator was stocked with any kind of food Isabella would need by calling the grocery service. Everything had been delivered before I arrived home. I sent the chef home early and anyone else in my way at the house. I didn’t know what to expect that evening, and I didn’t want anyone or anything interrupting us. I dressed, started a fire, and put on some Dean Martin in the distance. I felt like a teenager waiting for his girlfriend to come over. I was so excited to see her, I felt a slight tinge of an appetite. At exactly seven, I heard her pull into the driveway. My heart jumped to my throat. I wanted to run outside and grab her in my arms. I eagerly watched

her get out of the car. She wore a dress and I felt my cock strain against my pants. I greeted her at the back door and opened it before she knocked. “Hi.” Her voice was beautiful. Her lips were stained a deep blood red. I loved that color on her. Her legs were perfection. Everything about her was more than I could ever ask for. “Hi. Come in.” Her hands were clutching her purse in the front of her, and I looked at her finger. I had to see if she put the ring back on. She hid her hand from me. I didn’t want to ask, but I needed to see. “Would you like something to drink?” I asked. She looked at me with love in her

eyes. I needed to see that. “Yes, I would love a vodka.” That was what she had the first night we were together. I smiled for the first time in six months. “The kitchen is all yours. Make yourself at home and work your magic,” I smiled. Isabella rushed into the kitchen as if she and I had never been apart. I wondered if she was naked under the dress. The way her breasts bounced around she had to be braless. Christ, she was beautiful. I was as hard as a rock looking at her and remembering what was under her dress. I hope she didn’t notice my cock pushing against my pants

like an overzealous teenage boy. Fire shot through my veins as if I was hit by lightning. I felt alive again for the first time since the attack. This was more than sex. This was a passion for a woman that ignited my soul. My world was full when she was there. I wanted to make love to her before she started cooking. Hell, I wanted her and nothing else. “I bought everything I thought you would need to cook with. My fridge was bare for quite some time.” She sipped her vodka and walked over to see what I bought. Her tight round ass was outlined in the dress she wore. Her dress was short and barely covered her ass. Her legs were toned and tanned, and she was barefoot. I

wanted to bury my face in her ass. I would be before the night was over. She opened my refrigerator and looked inside. I hope I had bought what she needed. “Are you hungry?” Dear God. What did I say? I was hungry for her. “I don’t know if I want to eat right away, Isabella. I have had no appetite for the last six months as you can see.” ‘Well I want you to eat, then we can talk. You look like utter shit, Fabrice. I’m sorry for saying that, but you have to know this is not a good look.” I smiled at her brashness. “What are you going to cook for me?” I wanted to wrap my arms around her and fade into her. Her familiar scent

was now in the air again. I could breathe. “First, I want to make you some pasta. Fatten you up again. Then I brought over some of my mom’s chocolate cake that you love.” Oh, I did enjoy that cake. I guess if I want to get laid, I should eat. I needed the strength to satisfy her. “Why do you have that look on your face, Fabrice?” I had no idea what she was talking about, but I pictured her naked underneath me. “What look?” “You know, that look.” “I’m so happy you are here. You have no idea, Isabella.” She became serious again. Her face told me how hurt she was. She

sipped her vodka and looked into my eyes. I saw the tears pooling in them. Could we ever be back to normal again? She leaned against the counter and studied me. “I don’t understand how someone of your status could allow yourself to turn into this. Do you see yourself when you look in the mirror?” I looked down. “I didn’t care. Nothing mattered. When I told you to go home that day, I died.” “Then why? I don’t understand why you did that? Your outbursts and mood swings didn’t bother me. Yes, dealing with you was upsetting at times, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever. We would have been fine.”

“I don’t know why I did anything I did those three months we were in Paris. I was so sedated with pain medication, I was depressed, and I didn’t think I deserved you.” I didn’t want to tell her the real reason yet. Not until I was settled in my mind that the threats were completely over. She frowned and started chopping garlic and broccoli. The smell in the air was heavenly. Isabella cooked this for me the first night we were together. How tough I was then, so in control, and confident. I had been recently appointed Ambassador, and I had invited her over for the first time. She blew me while the broccoli sautéed that night. “You know that’s bull shit. I’m so

sick of everyone in my life thinking they know what’s best for me.” She began to pace the kitchen as she started the water boiling for the noodles. I adored her when she became fired up. She poured another splash of vodka in her glass and took a sip as she started to chop lettuce for a salad. My stomach began to growl again. “Fabrice, I’m so mad at you. So mad. How you could do that is. I don’t even know.” She was chopping harder and slamming the knife down on the cutting board. I was becoming a little worried and wondered if Gustan should have been there. “I know baby. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say.” She looked at

me and stopped chopping and put the knife down. “You broke my heart into a million pieces, Fabrice. I don’t know if my heart can be put back together again.” She wiped her eyes as the tears dripped down her cheeks. I walked over to her and pulled her into my arms. I didn’t care anymore; Comforting her was all I wanted to do. “Baby, come here.” She softened in my arms and didn’t fight me. I lifted her chin to get her to look into my eyes. I kissed the tears away as mine began to spill over. She reached around my neck and pulled me to her. Her body shook as I held on to her. Her mouth found mine.

Oh my God. To kiss her again was pure paradise. Her mouth worked with mine as we both hungrily ate at each other’s lips. Lust and love erupted from me. My hands brought her closer to my body. My cock was hard as stone. My eyes stung from the tears pouring out of them. I laced my hands around her waist. The boiling water hissed as the water spilled over the top of the pot. Isabella jumped and walked away to tend to the boiling noodles. She turned off the burner and I walked up behind her. Fuck the food. I went this long without eating; another hour won’t hurt. My arms went around her. The softness of her curves told me I was

home again. I laid my face in her neck and breathed in her perfume. “Fabrice, I need to feed you.” She whispered not turning around. “Not now. What I need is you to feed me with your love and your body. That is what I need. We can eat later. I need to make love to you.” She turned around in my arms and cupped my face with her hands. My hands roamed her body as I lifted her dress up past her ass. As I thought, she was naked underneath. “Give me you, Isabella. You are all I need right now. You are what will make me whole again. Let me love you the best way I can.” We were both clutching onto each other and groaning

as if our souls knew we were destined to be together. Isabella spoke as I kissed her again. “I promised myself I would not go to bed with you. I swore I would not let this happen.” I didn’t say anything. With all the strength I had to muster, I lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist. I prayed to God I could carry her upstairs to my bed. I was going to carry her if it killed me. With her body wrapped around mine, I carefully managed the stairs to my bedroom and placed her on the bed. I devoured every inch of her with my eyes. She pulled her dress up and stretched out completely naked. Her stomach was sunken but her breasts were still full and perfect. Her

nipples were hard and her pussy begged for me. Bending down I kissed her mouth. She was as hungry as I was. Her hands grabbed onto my head and she pulled me closer to her. “Fabrice.” Isabella moaned into my mouth. My tongue dove in and tasted her. “My baby.” I cupped her breast as my other hand trailed down her supple skin to her soft pussy. She was so warm and wet, and I wanted nothing more than to have my face buried deep inside her. She arched her back when my finger found her spot. I could have come just from touching her. It took all the control I had to not come right then. I wanted to

be inside her when I did. She reached for my shirt and started to unbutton the first button. I didn’t want her to see me naked. I was pathetic. I stopped her hand from undressing me. “Not yet.” She clawed at me and pushed my head down to her stomach. She wanted me to taste her. I kissed my way down her smooth silky body until she opened her legs for me. I had to look at her. So bare, pink, and perfect. Her clit was already swollen with need, her lips slick with want. My mouth watered. This was the food I needed to stay alive. This was all I needed to be me again. I kissed her pussy. Her scent awakened me. My tongue slipped inside, and she cried out pushing my head deeper. I

licked her clit with the tip of my tongue and she shuddered. My mouth was so hungry. My face was covered in her desire for me, and I wanted more. I couldn’t get enough. I would never get enough of her. My thumbs opened her up wider, and I sucked harder. The orgasm went through her fast as she cried out my name. I held her to me as she throbbed against my lips. Her legs tightened around my head. I reached under her ass to push even deeper. More, I wanted more of her. Once her body stopped shaking I worked my way back up to her. My mouth was covered with her and she eagerly kissed me. The passion and pure lust was incredible. Her hands found their way to my zipper. She slid the

zipper down and pulled my rock hard cock out. I pushed my pants down far enough to fuck her. I didn’t want her to see me completely naked in the shape I was in. I lifted up and hovered on top of her. Isabella guided my cock into her. I pushed deep feeling the warm softness envelope me. After my long trek through hell, I was in paradise again. “Isabella.” I could barely speak. The tightness of her pussy wrapped around me, her hands pushed me harder into her was more than I could bare. My hands pulled at her hair as I unleashed an orgasm tearing at my insides. Over and over I continued to push deeper as my cum poured out of me into her. The orgasm wouldn’t stop. Finally, I

collapsed on top of her, my shirt soaked in sweat, my heart beating in my ears. For the first time in a long time, I was alive. Nothing had felt better in my life. Isabella continued to hold my body to her. She sobbed uncontrollably. I looked up into her face and brushed the hair out of her eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?” Through her sobs, she was able to whisper. “I’m me again. I missed you so much. I love you more than anything in my life. Don’t leave me again.” “I will never leave you. You are a part of me, Isabella. You are the best part of me. I swear I’m closer to God when I’m inside you.” I held onto her as tight as I could. The warmth of her body

made me exhausted. My stomach growled as my appetite returned in full force. “Remember when we broke up, and you were in Paris and couldn’t come home?” I nodded my head yes. I remembered. Not having her was unbearable then. She completely cut me out of her life because of Marin sending her pictures of me with Celeste’s little sister, trying to make her believe I was cheating. “This was so much worse. I thought that was bad, but this was a million times worse. Oh, Fabrice.” I held her tight against my ailing body. I wish I was naked and could feel her warm skin against mine. In time.

Right now I didn’t want her to see me in the shape I was in. I didn’t know how I would get around her not noticing. She relaxed in my arms, and I caressed her back reassuring her we would never be apart again. Her fingers caressed my face as we lay in silence and held onto each other. “You are so thin, Fabrice. I can feel your bones. I don’t know what has happened to you.” “I didn’t care about anything, Isabella. You were all I cared about, and this fucking leg has really messed with me. I don’t know how I did my job. I really don’t.” “Didn’t your mom see this? She had to see how much weight you lost?”

“My weight issue wasn’t this bad in Paris. When I came back to Washington, I couldn’t eat at all. Every day was a reminder of you. That office reminded me of you, driving to work I would look for a glimpse of you on the streets. And you know what else?” “What?” “I would drive to the restaurant and sit in the parking lot to see you leave at night. I’m surprised you never noticed. I would sit there and look for you.” Saying that made me sound like a nut case. “Oh, baby. You were as miserable as me. I would work, come home, and go to bed. I thought about you every minute of the day. Sometimes I would stay with

Avery until she got tired of hearing me sob all night long.” “We’re pathetic.” I kissed the top of her head. Her body warmed me, and it was so good to hold her to me. If I died right then and there, I would have died a happy man. She started to get up and move off the bed. “Well, let’s go downstairs and let me feed you or I can bring the food up here and serve you dinner in bed. “Why don’t you let me take a shower and put on some comfortable clothes and I will be down in a few minutes.” Though I showered before she came over, I was covered in sweat and wanted to get cleaned up. “Can I jump in with you?” she

looked up at me with those chocolate brown eyes that melted my insides every time I looked at her. “I don’t want you to see me naked. It’s pretty bad, Isabella. Soon, after you feed me a while. I can’t bear to have you look at me like this.” She understood, thankfully and didn’t push the issue. As the hot water soaked my body, I hurriedly washed up and put on my sweats and a t-shirt. I wanted to be comfortable and be with her. When I walked downstairs she was in one of my t-shirts and nothing else. Her hair was in a messy bun, and she was barefoot dancing around the kitchen. My heart melted seeing her like

that. She didn’t know I was watching as she danced crossed the kitchen. I felt the darkness begin to lift.

“I’ve

got something.” Gustan was on the other line. Slipping into my suit coat, my pulse raced as I registered his words. I was at my D.C. office working and ready to head out to a meeting with the Vice President. I wondered if this call had something to do with my brother. Romain contacted me several times over the last couple of weeks. The last time,

he mentioned his need to go to Paris and wanted to know if he could stay at the vineyard. I wasn’t comfortable with him there. First of all, this was Romain and secondly, I wasn’t convinced he wasn’t part of the Andrea connection. Gustan had been trailing him and still could not find Andrea. “What do you have for me?” I asked, grabbing my notes and bag for the meeting. Isabella had bought me a leather messenger bag I loved. She liked to fill the pockets with snacks for me so she could fatten me up again. “They may have found Andrea.” “What do you mean may have?” You either found her, or you didn’t. “Well, they think she was part of a

training camp outside Yemen that was blown up yesterday. Forensics is still determining if the body parts of this woman is her. Have you talked to your brother today?” “No, I try not to make that a habit. You want me to talk to him and see if he says anything?” Gustan sighed, and I could hear him pounding his huge fingers on a keyboard. “No, let him contact you first” I looked out my window to see Ronnie had pulled the SUV up to the door. I needed to get my ass moving. “Ok. I’ll let you know. I’m on my way to a meeting with the Vice President. Well talk later, Gustan.” I ended the call and rushed out of the

office and down to the SUV. Ronnie was more talkative now that I was in a better mood. “The Capitol?” “Yes, Ronnie.” “Smiling today, Ambassador?” Ronnie grinned at me. He knew Isabella was back. He’d picked her up several times. “Ronnie, things are looking up.” I patted him on the shoulder. “I would be smiling too, Ambassador. You are a lucky man.” I plowed through the meeting like a new kid on the job. I was on top of it all without a blink of an eye. Fran, noticing my new lease on life, smiled at me several times and gave me a thumbs up. I

smiled at her and whispered in her ear, “I may be eating a steak soon.” She knew what I meant and squeezed my hand. I knew what I was doing and was on my game all day. Nothing could stop me. I was so happy to be back and be the Ambassador again. General Monrou was impressed and relieved to see me commanding the meetings like the leader I was born to be. She was concerned about me and my mental status the past six months. She took over a lot of my work when I was too damn depressed to cope. I owed her a lot. Gustan was instructed to stay with Isabella again. I didn’t want anything to happen while I was working. He agreed and followed her everywhere without

her knowing. I spoke to Pierre and he convinced me that they were not getting any more communications from the terrorists. There was no chatter and basically, we could go about our lives as we did before the attack happened. I wasn’t that comfortable yet. There was still this small problem of Andrea or Assata still missing though her trail was looking cold. At the moment, Isabella worked at her parent’s restaurant, taking an advanced chefs cooking class, and had put a down payment on a small space for a bakery near downtown. I have not been able to check the place out as of yet, but planned on going to see what she found. She told me she wanted to open up a

French-style bakery and name the bakery after my mother calling it Antoinette’s. I was speechless when she told me this. Doing something like that was quite an honor. Her goal was to expand and have a restaurant and possibly a shop in Paris. I liked that idea. I worked late nights again. I didn’t get back to my residence till after nine most nights. My angel had something cooking in the oven that smelled heavenly. Since we were back together for the past few months, I had put on ten pounds. She made a habit to cook for me every night and have lunches for me to take in the morning. I had a permanent smile on my face. I began to look like me again and could look in the mirror

without wanting to be sick. She still called her parent’s house her home but she never stayed there, she was always with me. I wanted her to move into the Ambassador residence permanently and planned on bringing the issue up soon. I came home one night and found Isabella in the shower singing. I didn’t want to scare her, but a hot shower sounded amazing after the long day I had. I lost my mind seeing her naked silhouette in the frosty glass. Since I gained some weight back I was not as self-conscious with her seeing me naked. I was still a bag of bones but that night I didn’t care. I felt the need to soap her up and then fuck the hell out of her before dinner. She noticed me when I began to

undress. Neither of us said a word. The silence between us made me even hotter for her. No talking, only primal animal lust. When I opened the door and stepped in my cock was already hard and bobbing around. She was a sight to behold. “Fabrice.” She slithered into me with warm wet skin. Reaching up and touching my face she purred. I couldn’t catch my breath as I stroked her wet skin. “What a way to end the day.” “I hoped you would get home soon. How was your day?” She hugged me tight and my pulse beat loudly in my ears. The effect this woman had on me was sinful.

I couldn’t answer right away. I was overcome with joy as I realized the one person that kept me alive was back in my arms and back in my life. I was whole again. I sighed and held her tight to my body. I was never letting go. All those lonely nights I spent wondering where she was or if she would love me again were now a distant memory. “Remember working there when the day was back to back meetings and phone calls? That is what today was like. I also had a long and energized call to Russia, and an evening at the Capitol. I’m glad today is Friday, and I can spend tomorrow with you. What would you like to do? “ “Why don’t we sneak away for the

day, only you and me? I have an idea.” My hands grabbed a bottle and I soaped her up. She giggled as I ran my hands across her flat belly feeling her muscles tighten under my touch. “I can’t be too far from the Embassy right now. Things are a little intense overseas and I need to be close. Whatever we do should be around here. I’m sorry.” I didn’t want to tell her yet about Andrea and my brother. “That’s fine with me. We can stay here and chill out and watch movies in bed and fuck like rabbits. You know we still have a lot of catching up to do.” “That’s true. We have many days we missed out on. I think we need to start right now.” My voice echoed in my

large shower. “Oh, do you? Right here now in the shower?” I let my hands roam across her body. Before I could answer her, she was on her knees in front of me. The image of her wet, looking up at me and putting my cock in her mouth was beyond words. I placed my hands on the wall to steady myself. Her mouth took me in one sweep. I couldn’t help but moan. “Oh God, Isabella.” I looked down and her eyes were looking up at me still. She did this so well. Just enough sucking across my head sent my blood bursting through my body. The way her mouth was working me felt so good my ears were ringing. That tongue of hers was like

warm velvet as she let her it run up and down my shaft. Her hand found my tight balls, and she tickled them lightly. My muscles were tight everywhere in my body. This girl of mine rocked my world, and I was about to spew. I tried to hold off to enjoy what her tongue was doing to me. I was in another world as I caught myself moaning again. She let her mouth run up and down my cock as she took all of me deep. I felt the head hit the back of her throat. Fuck, her lips were amazing. I was so close. My body was rigid, and Isabella knew me well enough to know I was close. She started moving her mouth more aggressively up and down and sucking as she did. Her hands grabbed the back of my thighs as she

pushed me deeper. I was about there when she sucked hard one last time. I threw my head back and came like a geyser. Holy fuck. After the last spurt, I pulled her up to me. Her face was red, her lips were swollen, and she had swallowed all I had given her. She looked so turned on I had to satisfy her. I was amazingly still hard and still throbbing. “You tasted so good, Fabrice. I love when you come.” She whispered. “It’s your turn now. Turn around.” She had one of her hands between her legs fingering herself. “You’re worked up aren’t you?” she nodded and put the finger she had inside herself inside my mouth. Oh, fuck.

She kissed me, and both of our mouths tasted like each other melded together. We were tasting each other with a pure animalistic need to have every part. I turned her around and caressed her perfect ass. Still round, tight, and red from the hot water, I slid into her, and she yelled out. Her body trembled as I grabbed on to her waist and roughly slid in and out. Her pussy was so swollen and needy. “Fabrice.” She moaned with each thrust. Her hands were now holding herself up against the shower. The hot water beating down on us and the steam hung heavy in the air, adding to our heated passion. I couldn’t get deep enough. Her pussy sucked me in. I let my

thumb touch her ass. That sweet puckered spot that sent her over the edge every time I pressed into it. This time, I pushed my thumb all the way in and I felt her convulse as I continued to pound into her. She made such a lust-filled noise, I could have come again. She trembled in my arms as she came down and went limp as I held her to me. I heard her stomach growl. “That was round one. We need to refuel for the second round.” She turned around and faced me. “We are not leaving this house until I’ve fucked you at least twenty times.” “You may do me in before the weekend is over.” I smiled at her and turned off the water so we could get out

and dry off. I had the staff buy two big fluffy robes for us to put on and they were hanging on the back of the door. I handed her one and she laughed. “Matching robes, Fabrice?” “Yes, they are easy to get on and off. That is the wardrobe for the weekend.” I was dead serious. “And expandable because I intend on not only fucking you into oblivion, but fattening you up before Monday.” I grabbed her hand and led her down to the kitchen. We ate and talked until we fell asleep on the couch. The ringing of my phone woke me up from a peaceful sleep. I had half a mind to ignore the call but, with this Andrea issue still not resolved, I had to get up and answer.

“Fabrice?” It was Gustan. “What now Gustan? I think it’s two in the morning. Could this not have waited?” “No, your brother’s in jail. He’s asking for you.” I felt like someone punched me in the gut. “If this is about drugs, I want no part of whatever he has going on.” I now paced around my residence. Isabella was sound to sleep on the couch. “It’s not drugs this time, Fabrice.” There was a pause. “It’s murder.”

“Murder?” I stood up from the couch and walked to the kitchen, so I wouldn’t wake up Isabella. “Yes, he killed Andrea Noir.” I sat down on a stool at the island in my kitchen. I ran my hand through my hair and took in what Gustan said. “I thought she was possibly dead in a training camp?” “They determined the remains

were not Andrea. Can you get to Rome?” Can I get to Rome? I’m the fucking Ambassador and I have a job here. If Romain was in prison for murder, that was his fucking problem. “Why do you need me in Rome?” “He’s asking for you. He wants to talk to you.” Mother fucker. This bastard was going to be the death of me. I thought for a couple of seconds. I’d have to rearrange some things, but I could claim a family emergency. “Yes, I can get to Rome. How soon?” I looked into the sitting room. Isabella had sat up on the couch and brushed the hair out of her eyes as she looked at me curiously.

“As soon as you can. This will be a quick trip, Fabrice. I’ll go with you.” “No offense, I don’t want you to go with me. I want you to stay with Isabella. I’d feel better if you stayed with her.” I ended the call and looked at Isabella. I had to tell her all of it now. Telling her would be okay now. She needed to know because part of why I left, was the story. “Where are you going?” she asked. I walked back to the couch where she was snuggled under a heavy blanket. I knew she was still naked. I wanted to fuck the shit out of her again before I left. I sat down next to her and pulled her in my arms. “I have to fly to Rome. I won’t be

gone long, only a couple of days. I’m sorry about our weekend being ruined.” “Is this Ambassador work or something with this terrorism thing?” Now was the time. I had to tell her. “Listen to me. Romain killed his girlfriend. She is tied to one of the terrorist. There is more to tell you, Isabella. I haven’t been completely honest with you.” She turned to look at me. I saw the fear in her eyes that I was about to tell her something painful. I raked my hand through my hair nervously. I didn’t know how she would react. “What do you mean, you haven’t told me everything?” She sat up, pulled the blanket around herself and stared at

me. A rush of fear went through me. She finally heard the real reason I sent her home. She sat on the couch and didn’t move as she listened intently. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth? I’m not an idiot, I would have left.” The iciness of her gaze told me she was upset with me. I shouldn’t have lied to her. I swallowed hard. I had to say the right things. “I didn’t think you would leave, I didn’t want you to worry, and I couldn’t tell you then because if anyone else found out, it could have made the threats worse. Plus, I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know why I did the things I did then.” She sat looking out past me. “You

lied to me.” I hesitated again before I spoke. “Yes, I did lie. I lied to everyone then, not only you, Isabella. I lied to my mother, father, my brother. I didn’t want you to be in any danger. I didn’t know what I was doing. I thought I was protecting all of you. I would die for you. If you are mad that I lied, then you will have to be mad. I’m sorry again.” I glanced at her to see her reaction. She gave me a half smile and reached for my hand. “It’s okay. I can’t lose you again and I don’t want to let this get between us. We can talk about this more when you get back.” I leaned over and kissed her forehead and pulled her in on my

lap. “You are amazing; you know that don’t you?” I smiled at her. I fought the unbearable urge to make love to her before I left. I covered her mouth with mine. She was more than I deserved. I had to get going, but I promised we would talk more when I came home from Rome. I breathed a sigh of relief that there were no more secrets between us. In about an hour there was a knock at the door. Gustan was there to go to the airport with me and give me more information on what happened. “This pisses me the fuck off, I hope you know,” I said as I rushed around to pack.

He nodded and said nothing back. Ronnie pulled the SUV up to take us to the airport. I didn’t want to leave. This was the last thing I wanted to do when I just got back with Isabella. I hated to have to tell her goodbye. She was getting dressed in my room and I walked in to see her smiling at me. I walked over and pulled her to me. “I want you to stay. I want you here from now on, permanently. I will have your things moved here. Whatever you want. I don’t want you to leave.” “I don’t want to leave. I want to be here with you. Please tell me you will be okay and you will come back to me. This trip is about your brother and nothing else?”

“Of course. This is nothing. I swear to you I won’t lie again or keep things from you. I will be honest and open from now on. I will be back in two days. I would take you with me, but this is something I need to handle myself.” “I know. I will get settled in here and cook and when you come back to me I will be officially living here. Please eat while you are gone.” She smiled up at me and I could have taken her right then. “I’m so happy you aren’t angry again. And we are going to get married soon. The sooner I make you my wife the better my life will be.” Love filled my heart as I looked at her standing in front of me. I loved when

she didn’t wear makeup and her hair was wild. Her swollen mouth still showed signs of the amazing sex we had the night before. Her eyes were alive again and so bright. She was my hope and dreams. She was my happiness and my life. ~~~~~~~~~~~ The flight to Rome was uneventful. I landed and was taken to the Italian prison outside the city. During the flight, I had to let Washington know what was happening. I made a call to Homeland Security explained what happened. Romain wasn’t an American citizen so there was nothing they could do about that, but I wanted to be upfront and honest about what was going on. I called

my father after I spoke to Gustan and explained the situation to him. He agreed to meet me in Rome. I could do what I had to do and get the hell out of there. The biggest problem was getting inside the prison. A car and driver were provided for me and once we pulled up the reporters were everywhere. It didn’t take long for the news to put two and two together and link my brother, his fiancé, and the terrorist attack together. My car was swarmed with reporters yelling questions. I said nothing as I pushed my way through the doors. They had him held in the Regina Coeli jail in Rome. This prison was once a monastery but was now horrifyingly dilapidated and overcrowded. I couldn’t

picture my brother in there. He couldn’t handle the conditions at a luxury rehab let alone what was going on in this prison. I met up with my dad before we were taken to a room to await my brother. While we waited, he told me I looked better than the last time he’d seen me. At least I was able to unknowingly bring a small piece of comfort to him. I had told him the week before Isabella and I were back together. “Tell me what’s going on, Fabrice?” He was upset with Romain, I could see the disappointment in his eyes, and I heard the sadness in his voice. I saw that look many times before when Romain would be arrested, or sent to rehab. He still didn’t know about

Andrea and her connection to me, the hostage taking, and the terrorist attack. “Dad, listen to me before you go in there. While I was in Paris, Pierre had Romain followed. He also had his fiancé trailed, and they discovered she was the widow to the man I killed in the hostage siege. We didn’t know if Romain was aware or involved in any way. I didn’t say anything to anyone about this because I feared for your safety. I believe this has something to do with that.” “Jesus, he better start doing some explaining. I swear to God if he had anything to do with your shooting in any way, I will kill him myself.” My dad had lived through Romain’s lies and told me

several times if it was not for our mother he would have no contact with him. He spent many nights bailing him out of jail, tracking him down, and giving him money. Repeatedly, I had heard the bullshit would be the last time, but because Romain was his son, he wouldn’t give up on him. We were led down a cold looking corridor. The walls were crumbling and cracked. The smell of the prison was putrid like a combination of urine and sweat. The heat inside was intolerable. Men were hanging out of their cells yelling, and some were crying in desperation. I was amazed at the condition this place was in. There were three and four men to an overcrowded

cell, laundry hanging on ropes across the cells, and men yelling at each other. We reached my brothers cell. Romain sat alone, not looking up. The clanging of the lock on the cell door spurred his attention. Our eyes locked onto each other. He was ashamed and I was pissed and confused. Drugs were one thing, but murder was something totally different. Even if this were justified, he would be in for a long battle. They grabbed him roughly and handcuffed him. His face looked a mess. He had bruises all over him, and his lips were cut up as if he had been hit with something repeatedly. We were led to a room and they left us there together with a guard standing in the corner.

When he sat down I was on him with questions. “What the fuck, Romain?” I blurted out. He had no expression in his eyes. “I had to.” “Had to? Have you confessed?” My gaze tore into him. I tried to read his face as I sat in front of him. My father sat quiet and still. I couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or letting me do all the talking. “Yes,” he said and nodded his head. I rolled my eyes. This fucker was an idiot. I felt sorry for him that he was this stupid. Now was my turn to play stupid and ask him questions I already knew the answers to. “Did you know who she was?’

He looked up at me, and his eyes came to life. “Only right before I killed her. She told me she was sent to kill you, Mamma, Dad, and Isabella. I had no choice, Fabrice. I had no clue until she told me. She was going to kill me and go after all of you. I did what I had to do.” “You never had any suspicion she was a terrorist?” “No,” he yelled. His nerves were rattled and I could tell by the nervousness in his voice. “She was good at disguising herself. From the moment I met her she talked about living in London and wanting to travel. She said she was a historian and had to travel all the time. I

believed her, Fabrice.” I could understand how he could be easily swayed. He always was weak when it came to most things, but women along with drugs, were his biggest weakness. The conditions in the prison made me shiver in the stifling heat. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I looked at my dad and I could see he was heartbroken. Here he had this son that was nothing but a problem from day one, and now he confessed to murdering a woman who threatened to kill me. I couldn’t imagine the heartache he was feeling at that moment. I couldn’t imagine the pain and heartache my brother was going through. He was genuinely in love with this woman who

was only pretending to love him to hurt me. “Do you have a lawyer?” My dad finally spoke. Romain shook his head no. “They were going to provide me with one.” “Bullshit, I will get you one. I know one of the best here. I already called him and he will be meeting with you today.” “Why did you want to see me, Romain?” I was still confused as to why I had to be there. “I have to make you understand. I want you to know what happened. I’m not a murderer, Fabrice.” “Tell me. I have had men following her for quite some time. I knew who she

was. That is why I had to get Isabella back to Washington. I didn’t know if you were involved.” “I didn’t know. I swear to you.” He smashed his handcuffed hands down on the table trying to make me understand. “I believe you. I had you followed, too. I needed proof that you were not involved in this.” He looked at me with shock. “You can’t think I would do that!” “Look at your track record, Romain. I had no idea what you may have been up to. As soon as I heard she was involved in this terrorist attack on me, I had to do whatever was necessary to protect me, Isabella, and our parent’s. I had to know you had nothing to do with

trying to kill me.” “I may be a lot of things, but I would not hurt you like that. You’re my fucking brother, Fabrice. We were raised by the same parents. Nothing, and I mean nothing would make me want do something that would cause you bodily harm. I truly thought she loved me. She used me to get to you.” His gaze left mine, and he hung his head. “I know what she did.” There was a silence. I looked around to see another person come in. My dad jumped up and greeted him. That must be the lawyer. My dad introduced me to him. His name was Pablo Bassi, and he and my dad went way back. He lived in Italy,

and was one of the best lawyers around. Before they talked legal issues, I needed to hear from Romain what had happened. How did he know she was sent to kill me? My dad gave him a cigarette, and he took a long drag and seemed to settle down a bit. He was ready to talk, but whether or not he would be honest was yet to be seen. I would know if he was lying. I always knew. He told me his story of how he met her at a narcotics anonymous meeting. She told him she was a former user, and he believed her. They became friends, and she acted rather needy always wanting him around when she was in town. She traveled a lot and said her constant traveling was for

work because she was a historian. He was happy with her. They seemed to have so many similar likes and interests. They fell in love quickly, and he asked her to marry him last year. He not once suspected she was anything other than what she said she was. He did admit he had not met anyone in her family, and she never talked about her family and only a couple of times did she meet my parents. Everything was normal until last night. She was acting strange. She had come back from a trip to London, and Romain said she acted irritated and put off. He thought her behavior was from being tired. He left her alone until the evening when they went to dinner in Rome and came back to Romains apartment. That’s

where she came after him with a knife. She told him he had to die because he was not playing the game right. He was to die and then she was going to kill our parents and me. The killings would be revenge for Fabrice killing her husband ten years ago. She attacked him with the knife and put up a good fight. She managed to cut him across his stomach. He lifted up his shirt and showed us the wound. Bandages covered his stomach, and his wound was evidence he did get in some altercation with someone. That is why his face was so beat up he said. She put up a good fight, but Romain wrestled the knife away from her. She kept coming after him, punching him, and grabbing another knife under her pants

leg and coming after him again. She wasn’t going to stop until Romain was dead. He managed to grab his gun he kept in his drawer by the bed, and he shot her. She wouldn’t go down though, and he had to shoot her a second time. Only then did she stop coming after him and he knew he had killed her. The police were called, he was brought here, and he asked for me. He was set for a hearing the next day. With the facts in front of him, the lawyer seemed to think Romain would not spend much time in jail. He would have the information verified before they went in front of the judge and the lawyer asked if I would testify as to what happened to me and how this situation was related. I agreed,

reminding them I would be returning home the day after. The guard reminded us that our time was up. We said our goodbyes and Romain was in tears when they led him back to his cell. My heart hurt for him. He may be an idiot and a chronic drug user, but he was my brother and he was there because he actually was doing something good for a change. I left my father and the lawyer there and went back to my hotel. I was exhausted, in need of a drink, and I wanted to talk to Isabella. This time I avoided the mass of reporters by meeting my driver in the garage area. The accommodations at my hotel were perfect. I had a wonderful view of the city, a nice walk out balcony, and a

bed big enough for ten people. I ordered room service and turned on the news to see my brother discussed along with me. The story was of the terrorist connection and the murder of Andrea Noir by my brother. My phone rang like crazy, and before I could talk to Isabella, I had to speak to Washington. They said a representative from Homeland Security was flying down that evening. They offered me protection which I declined, and they promised to help my brother if his story was proven to be true. I discussed what I knew and that I would meet with them again the next day. I was able to speak to my girl afterwards and relaxed as I listened to the sound of her voice. I couldn’t wait to

get back to her and share my home with her. Her brother and dad helped her move in. She was now officially back in my life and mine. I smiled to myself, laid my head on the pillow and actually slept for the first time in a long time.

I

made my way to the first family Sunday dinner at the Piori house. I had flown in from Rome in the early morning hours and then headed over to Isabella’s family home. The entire family was gathered around the table, and everyone was there to see me, and happy Isabella and I were back together. Through the entire dinner, I couldn’t wait to get Isabella home and fuck her brains out. I

had not touched her in four days and my cock became hard just looking at her. Of course, she had to wear one of my favorite dresses and while I stood in the kitchen she whispered in my ear she was wearing nothing underneath. After that, I knew something had to be done before dinner was served. While everyone was gathered around Sophia and her baby, Isabella curled her finger at me to follow her. I hurried after to her bedroom. She quickly pulled me inside and locked the door. Before I knew what was happening, I was pinned up against the door, and her body was pressed up against me. She pulled up her dress to reveal

she had not worn a thing underneath. I almost came looking at her bare pussy. She winked at me and smiled. “I can’t stand looking at you and not having you.” “What if your father or brother finds me deflowering you in your bedroom? They’ll beat the shit out of me.” I laughed as my hands grabbed her ass and pulled her up against my cock. I throbbed against her. “Baby, I’ve been deflowered a long time ago in my bedroom.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, really? I bet you have not had an Ambassador in your room before.” God, I wanted her. My hands roamed up her ass to her waist and then to her perfect full breasts.

She panted. “I can’t eat if you don’t fuck me first.” My lips devoured her. She smelled so good and tasted even better. “I have ached for you, Fabrice. I can’t function unless you fuck me now.” She fumbled with my zipper. My cock begged to come out. “Are you sure we should be doing this here?” The thought of having someone from her family walk in on us was a mood killer. She wasn’t taking no for an answer. I’d never seen her this aggressive. I caressed her bare thighs as I ran my hands up between them. So soft and warm. Then I was inches from her sweet pussy. I was going to make her go insane before I entered her. I could hear

the carrying on down the hall with the family laughing. Isabella had my cock out and rubbed it against her pussy lips. Through heavy lidded eyes she looked at me and said. “Fuck me, Fabrice. Please fuck me.” My cock was going to explode before I was inside her. My body was so tight and the blood pulsated through my veins like fire. “Turn around and bend over,” I whispered. She complied as I ran my hands up under her dress and felt her hard nipples. One swift move and I would be inside her. She stuck her ass out enough for me to push in. My hands grabbed onto to her hips and my cock slid in fast. Holy fuck she was wet. I felt her tremble as I reached around and

fingered her clit. One more thrust and she moaned deep inside so no one would hear us. I felt her orgasm as she squeezed tight around me. I blocked out the laughter and commotion outside the door, and thrust one more time. I came hard and quietly closing my eyes and enjoying how she felt wrapped around me. Repeatedly I came into her as she squeezed my cock. When I was done, she pulled her dress down, went to her drawer and put on a pair of panties, kissed me, and waked out of the room with a naughty grin on her face. She didn’t clean up. Now I had to sit through dinner with her family, knowing she was dripping with me. I pulled my pants up and walked down the hall and into the

dining area as the praying had begun. I looked at Isabella and she licked her full pink lips, winked at me, and squirmed in her chair. I was nowhere near done with her yet. As soon as I got her home, I had a few surprises for her. The dinner was wonderful. Once again I was welcomed into this incredible family as if I had not left. I loved looking at my girl and seeing her so happy. My heart hurt to know she was in pain and sad for as long as she was. I looked around the table and inside rejoiced at the wonderful love I had found everyone laughing, joking, and eating as if there was nothing going on outside the four walls. Isabella’s father stood in the kitchen and looked out

smiling. He and I needed to discuss what happened, but today was not the time. Today was a day of celebration. ~~~~~~~~~~~ “Please, Fabrice. Oh God.” Isabella was tied to my bed post and begging for me to stop teasing her with her own vibrator. Getting on all fours still hurt and put too much pressure on my leg, but the pain was easing with each time we enjoyed this role playing. I loved watching her pussy get wetter as I slid this vibrating piece of plastic in and out. My cock was on high alert wanting to burrow inside her. I had to hold off as much as I could. Isabella pulled on the restraints, and arching her back. I loved her so much and bringing

her to the point of begging was what I longed to do. “You are wet, so wet, Isabella.” I stopped and let the vibrator rest on her thigh. She squirmed and groaned. I was playing with her and we both loved this game. “Fabrice, I want you. I want you inside me.” “Not yet, we aren’t there yet, baby. I just got started.” Oh how I loved this. I was back with a vengeance. She thrashed around tethered to the bed posts. Her body arched up silently begging for me to take her over the edge. Her breasts bounced with each move as she bucked up straining against the restraints. Fucking this amazing woman

was a gift I didn’t deserve. What I felt, watching her want me was so incredible, almost surreal from where I was a few months ago. I became a different person when she was with me. I looked down at her and couldn’t help not tasting her dewy skin. I licked and nipped my way up to her neck and back to each nipple which I ravenously sucked on. While I did, I started the heavenly torture of inserting the vibrator inside her again. I was careful not to let the vibrator touch her clit or she would come fast. “I have never wanted a man as much as I want you. You are my life, Fabrice. I’m complete with you.” I

wasn’t expecting that. We were in the throes of all out primal sex, and Isabella decided to get mushy on me. I noticed tears in her eyes as she looked at me. I didn’t speak. I wanted to be inside her and with the skill of the master, I was. I was deep inside heaven without missing a beat. I felt her quiver as I took her slow and gentle. She was still tied up and I turned on the vibrator again pressing it against her anus. With each stroke my eyes bore into her. She loved the dominance as I turned the vibrator on high and pressed harder. I could feel the vibration as my cock rammed into her. I looked down and watched as she orgasmed again. Her moans were cries of pure ecstasy.

After the both of us came, I untied her, and we snuggled into the darkness of my room and warmth of my bed. I felt tears on my chest. She was my anchor and my soul, and we needed to get married soon. “Don’t cry, baby. We are in a wonderful place now. A place where we will stay forever. How about you make plans for our wedding again. I love seeing you wearing my ring.” I noticed her wearing the ring the other day, and my heart flipped seeing the diamond on her finger again. That ring helped me through the worst time of my life. Knowing she would wear my ring again kept me from doing myself in. “They are tears of happiness,

Fabrice. I’m so happy.” “So am I, baby. So am I. Tell me what I have missed since I’ve been away from you. Your sister looks so happy with Ben and the baby.” I was curious to know what was going on in her life since we had been apart. We didn’t get a chance to talk much in the few days we were together. Sophia, her sister and Ben were expecting again. I think she is going to be a baby making machine. Ben’s Korean family have accepted Sophia and the fact that Ben is married to someone of a different culture. Her brother, Danny was questioned in her ex-boyfriend, Anthony’s death. Anthony didn’t commit suicide as believed earlier, but was

murdered. Whoever set the scene, made some big mistakes. They turned the car on, and put the body in there after the body had been dead for a while. They were able to tell the car had a half a tank of gas, and would have run out before Anthony died. They arrested Isabella’s brother. Took him right out of the restaurant one night, and her Dad was about out of his mind. After questioning and interrogating him for hours, someone came forward that Anthony owed money too and confessed he killed him. The guy that murdered Anthony was one of Danny’s friends when they were growing up. Out of loyalty to Isabella’s family, he couldn’t let Danny take the heat. “That’s horrible. How is Marco?”

Marco was Isabella’s younger brother who left the restaurant to travel with his rock band. “Marco is doing well. He made a second album with his band and met someone he’s in love with. Fabrice you have missed so much. Everyone has missed you and they were so happy to see you. I though Aunt Fina was going sit on your lap. She couldn’t get enough of you.” I loved the fire in her eyes when she talked about her family. “Next Sunday dinner we will talk about the wedding again and make plans.” She became silent. “You still want to marry me, right?”

“What kind of question is that?” “I’m afraid to make plans, and then something happens again.” “Nothing is going to happen again. Let’s get married. I don’t care how or where I only want to marry you. The sooner, the better.” “Fabrice, we shouldn’t announce our wedding again and make a big to-do. Let’s make the wedding small and go to Paris. I want to marry you in Paris.” Isabella looked up at me and stared into my eyes, waiting for my reply. “Let’s do this. No big to-do, only the family, and at the vineyard house. “Really?” I was surprised. “Let’s make the vineyard better

again. The vineyard is perfect. That is our favorite place, and I love to be with you there. A wedding in Paris at the vineyard. What could be more perfect? A honeymoon somewhere far away with no Romain, Gustan, or anyone else, but the two of us. “I like that idea. We can erase the bad memories I created.” I glanced at the clock and noticed it was midnight. We had spent four hours in bed. If I wasn’t totally exhausted, I would have stayed right where I was and not go to sleep. She was snuggled in my arms as she drifted off to sleep first. I brushed my thumb across her cheek. She was a delicate rose lying with a thorny bush.

How my very existence was so entwined with her. I pulled her tighter to me, and she whimpered. I breathed in her scent and let my body relax knowing she was mine, and we would not be apart again. In the quietness of my room in the dark, she whispered, “I love you with all my heart.”

On

a cold blustery day in October, Avery was rushed to the hospital. She had fought like hell to keep her heart, but her new heart was rejecting. The medications she took were causing her to have other health problems. She had high blood pressure and diabetes. The increase in medication caused her an infection in her lungs. This infection wasn’t responding to antibiotics, and

Avery grew weaker. Isabella and I were woken up that morning by Cherise crying on the phone. Their baby was three months old, and Cherise was beside herself with fear and sadness. We rushed to the hospital to find Avery in ICU. By the time we arrived at the hospital, she was unconscious, and Isabella became hysterical. The doctors didn’t expect Avery to live through the night. Avery’s family was there, her wife and baby and the two of us. The doctor came out to tell us her organs were failing, and she didn’t have much longer. The sobs turned to screams and I didn’t know how to calm Isabella down. All I could do was hold her while she thrashed and pounded on me. Eventually,

she relaxed in my arms and cried quietly until she had no more tears. “She was going to be my maid of honor, Fabrice. She was so excited about us getting married.” Isabella choked that out as she looked at me with swollen eyes. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” I caressed her back and stroked her head. I hated to see her this upset. Her tears tore me to pieces. Remembering the talk Avery and I had the time she came to Paris and how she said she couldn’t fight anymore came into my mind. She was tired, and the drugs were making her sick. I never told Isabella, and I never would. “I didn’t get a chance to say

goodbye or tell her I love her. No, not Avery.” She cried in my arms in the waiting room all night. All of Avery’s family came and when Isabella was around them she hid her grief and calmed down. We stayed at the hospital for the night waiting and remembering the times Avery made us laugh. We sat around her bed and talked to her, hoping she could hear us. The baby had no clue what a remarkable woman her mom was, but I knew how this woman changed everyone’s life she touched. I should have told her how much she meant to me, but I never did. I was too wrapped up in my own stupid problems. I didn’t have the chance to tell her what I needed to say. You always think you have time to

tell the ones you love how much they mean to you but you don’t. In an instant, your life could change and what you wish you did or said could not be replayed. I will always remember Avery as the girl who said what was on her mind, made you laugh when that was the last thing you wanted to do, and didn’t have a bad thing to say about anyone. She came from so much, yet her privilege and money didn’t change her. To me, Avery would be in my heart always. In the wee hours of the morning, she took her last breath with all of us gathered around. My heart broke while I watched Isabella cry for her again. I took her home and stayed with her all

day as she tried to come to terms with losing her best friend. The funeral was tough on everyone. I never knew Avery had so many friends. She didn’t talk about the volunteer work she had done or the contributions she made to charities. I didn’t know that behind her sarcasm and smart ass humor was a person concerned more with others than herself. Small charities I had not heard of came to pay their respects, and celebrate a life gone way too soon. Her funeral was supposed to be a celebration of her life. She made her wishes clear before she died she didn’t want a traditional funeral. She wanted her funeral to be a happy occasion. She specified to Cherise she

wanted a band to play rock music, a bar, food, her Chanel wardrobe put with her, and her casket closed. I had not seen anything like Avery’s funeral nor will I ever again. At the end of the service she wanted Crazy Train played as per her wishes, as everyone said one last goodbye to Avery and she was taken to the family mausoleum. I found out weeks later she had left a letter to Isabella. I didn’t read the letter, but my girl said the letter was something she will cherish her entire life. When the will was read, Isabella was told to be there. In a final show of love to Isabella, Avery left her the rest of her wardrobe and a huge amount of money to start her

business when she was ready. ~~~~~~~~~~~ They say that bad things come in sets of three. After the attempt on my life and the fact I could have died, we were faced with the heart retching passing of Avery, and one evening while I sat in my office preparing for my next day at the United Nations, I received a call from my father. “Dad, how are you? Is everything alright?” There was dead silence on the phone as I listened to him breathing. “What is wrong, Dad? Is Mamma okay?” “Yes, yes your mother is fine. Romain is the problem.” Holy fuck not

again. He was bailed out of jail awaiting his trial for the death of his fiancé. My dad’s attorney said Romain would be an easy case. He would probably do little or no time because of the fact he defended a government official against an impending terrorist attack. My father paid his bail and Romain was able to stay at home under house arrest until his trial. He moved into the house in Paris. All he had to do was to keep a low profile until the trial. I provided them with security until I knew no one would hurt him or my parents. “What did he do?” I heard his voice start to shake. Fuck, he had to be dead. The thoughts of me finding him overdosed when I was a boy entered my

mind. I remember the needle sticking out of his arm and the white color of his skin. That was an image I would always remember. “Is he dead?” I asked, when my father didn’t answer right away. I closed my eyes. I knew what the answer was going to be. They found him in his room in the same condition I had once found him, or he hanged himself. “I don’t know. He isn’t here. He’s gone.” “Gone? How can he be gone? Didn’t I have someone watching your place twenty-four hours a day?” “Yes, you did and yes the guard was here. Romain went to bed early, and your mother and I were watching a

movie. I went upstairs to go to bed a few minutes ago, and his tracking device lay on the floor. His room door was open, and he wasn’t in there. Son of a bitch. “Have you checked the entire house?” The place was so big you could get lost without even trying. “Yes, the entire house was checked from top to bottom by me and the staff. There is no sign of him.” “Did you call the police?” Surely that was the first call my dad made. “No, I wanted to call you first. I wanted to check with you on what to do.” That was an unfamiliar statement coming from the one man who was sure of all he did in life. My dad was always on the top of his game.

“You need to call the police and then Bassi. For all we know he up and left. I don’t think anyone kidnapped him if that is what you think. Romain is not one to face his mistakes. You know this is his track record. He will up and run when things don’t go his way. He always has.” “I know. I don’t know where he could have run to. Rome, I presume.” “I have a few guys that can be out there in a few hours. They are costly, but they find what I need them to find. I can send them to you, but in the mean time you need to call the police before he’s gone forever. He won’t go too far.” My head tried to take in all types of scenarios that could have happened.

More than likely he ran. Romain has never been able to face anything, even if it involved him doing something he shouldn’t have done. Romain was a runner. He ran from his problems either by hiding, taking drugs, or by going away where no one could find him. “Call me back when you get the information. I can’t fly out right now, Dad. I have some important issues I need to contend with her at the Embassy, and I’m supposed to fly to the UN later today.” “Hell, I understand. I don’t want you to fly out here for this. No, I needed your advice. Thank you, Son. I will call soon.” I hung up the phone and switched

on the televisions in my office. I had each one set to a different news channel. I blew out a sigh of relief to find out the news story wasn’t on any channel, yet. When I thought he had his life turned around he went and did something stupid again. He was so fucking stupid. I wasn’t helping him. Unless he was kidnapped, murdered, or beaten to a pulp, he was on his own. He could rot in jail for the rest of his life. I had to let him and his problems go. I had my own personal and public issues to contend with. My phone rang again within a few minutes. It was my dad again. “Well, did he resurface?” “No, he did not. I called the police. They are coming over. We’re

trying to contact his acquaintances.” Surely he had already gone far away. Why the fuck would he do this when this was such a cut and dry case. He would have been a free man. Now he faced real prison time. I was so tired of the bullshit. “He left a note though, Fabrice. I don’t know what to make of it. Can I read this letter to you?” My dad was beyond agitated. I could hear the anger in his voice. This asshole brother of mine had put both my parents through so much over the years. “Of course. Go ahead.” “Somethings will never be right. I can’t ever be the man I should be. I have tried many times but I can’t do it. I’m

sorry for the hurt. I’m sorry for being your son. Please forgive me, and I hope one day you will understand. I’m leaving. I can’t face any more scrutiny. I killed her to protect you and Fabrice. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me one day. I love you all but you won’t see me again. I’m going away for good this time. I want to ride off into the sunset like a man. This is my one and only gift to you. Much love, Romain.” Well that didn’t sound good. He was either going far away or he was going to kill himself. Knowing my brother, he didn’t have the balls to kill himself. He was too much of a wimp to do himself in.

“Dad, he’s going away. We need to come to terms with the fact we may not see him again.” I didn’t know how else to explain this to him. “I know he isn’t going to kill himself. He isn’t man enough to do that. What he has done is cause pain and suffering to your mother again, and I will not have her go through this ever another time. This is the last straw, Fabrice. I want you to know I’m through with him. If he is alive, he is dead to me.” “Dad, I understand. He has made a mockery of our life by his actions. Yes, he did kill someone for us. But, he could have been pardoned and been able to go on with his life. That was too easy for Romain. Does Mamma know?”

“Not yet, I didn’t tell her.” I heard his anger in his voice. My dad was always a level-headed and calm man. He was a tailor and built a business by being the man he was. He never became too angry, but he let you know he was nobody’s fool, and when he had enough he had enough. I could tell now he had enough. With irritation dripping from his words, he said to me. “Fabrice, I’m done. This was the last time I will consider him my son.” I didn’t answer. There was nothing left to say.

I spent the next few weeks working hard to become stronger both physically and mentally. Isabella was still down from the death of Avery. She and I needed to get away and we decided to go somewhere for a short trip. We chose New York City. One of Isabella’s favorite places, and I had to be at the United Nations one day, but then we would have the rest of the time together.

We spent the days getting lost in the crowded city and passed the nights trying different restaurants and making love until we couldn’t move. I saw her smile return, and I knew she was starting to feel better. I took her to a French boutique my father had connections to. I had suggested she look for a wedding dress and she tried on one for fun. It wasn’t traditional that I saw her in the dress, I know. She fell in love with the first one she tried on. I loved watching her eyes catch fire when she looked in the mirror. The ivory color against her skin was perfect. I could not see her in any other dress but that one. “Why are we doing this?” she smiled at me as we both looked in the

mirror. “I don’t know. I thought you might like to try one on and see what you liked. I know it’s strange, but I wanted to see if there was anything in here you may fall in love with.” We both couldn’t stop staring at her in the that dress. The dress was perfect. “This is the one, isn’t it?” Isabella tried not to smile so broadly. She couldn’t help herself. Madame Camille, the boutique owner, smiled with us, nodding her head. “Fabrice, Mrs. DeFrizio, is going to be so angry.” I had no idea what she was talking about. “Who is Mrs. DeFrizio?” I asked

trying to understand what was going on. “She’s the owner of Bella Luna Dresses. She made Sophia’s dress and I promised I would go to her if I ever married.” She was kidding, right? “I think she will forgive you, Isabella.” I wrapped my arms around her waist as I stood behind her admiring the dress she would wear in a couple of months. “No, you don’t understand, she will be very angry.” She was serious. I tried not to laugh as I looked at her wearing a very expensive French-made wedding dress. “Is she in the mob?” “Shut up, Fabrice. I don’t know how I will explain this to her.”

“I know, don’t, and if she says anything tell her my father is a tailor and he made the dress. Simple as that or should I say Bada Bing Bada Bang?” “You’re awful.” She turned around and kissed me. The dress would be delivered to the vineyard in time for the wedding, and then we went to pick out our wedding bands. I wanted Cartier to match her engagement ring. She agreed, and we headed over to the store to purchase two platinum bands. Our wedding came together perfectly. On our last night, we sat in Central Park eating a hot dog from a vendor. We decided the last of the details to our wedding. “I want close family and friends,

Fabrice.” “That is fine with me. We will have a small Catholic ceremony at the vineyard. Mamma wants to plan the wedding and reception if you don’t mind. The planning will help keep her mind off Romain.” “Of course. Let her. I hate that kind of thing and I just want to marry you.” Taking her hand that held my ring on her delicate finger, I kissed her ring and then kissed her on the lips. We sat in silence, her head against my chest and watched the sun go down. There was so much love and lust between us. She was my universe and my reason to live. To make her my wife would be the best day of my life.

The

memories of that moment in the coffee shop was still fresh in my mind, even months later. I had flashbacks and nightmares nearly every day. Something I never had when I was in special Ops. I’ve been through shootings, bombings, and massacres. Nothing like this has ever affected me as badly. The flashes were the faces of the people being shot. The look of terror in a child’s face as a

gun is pointed at his head. The mothers voice in my head pleading for the cowardly killer to take her life instead. The screams of the innocent as they were slaughtered for no reason other than being at the wrong place at the wrong time. They were unlucky to be where I was that day. They were going about their day, enjoying life, and then, executed as if they meant nothing. The smell of blood I can’t get out of my memory. There was so much blood. Bodies everywhere were strewed across the floor in front of me. The thoughts kept me up most nights even with Isabella next to me. If I did sleep, I slept for a couple of hours a night and woke up in a cold sweat. Reaching over and

feeling her next to me, helped calm my night terrors. I didn’t tell her about how bad the dreams were. She didn’t need to know. I was restless and insomnia was now my enemy. I slipped out of bed leaving her warm and safe under the covers. I made my way to a shower and decided to get to the office early. The memories could not be washed away as easily as I hoped. I found myself standing in the scalding shower trying to forget the pain. I looked down at the scar forever reminding me of that horrible day. The pain, the smell the sounds. It was too much to bare at times when I thought of the poor, innocent people that lost their lives because of me. They

probably didn’t even know me, yet they were to pay for what I had done. The guilt lingered as I dried off and started my day. I didn’t notice Isabella watched me standing in the doorway. I jumped when I turned around to see her standing there naked. Her hair a mess from sleeping, her face clean with no makeup. I still didn’t feel worthy enough for such a remarkable woman. “What’s wrong?” she asked in her sleepy voice. “Can’t sleep, so I’m going to go into the office early. What are you doing up?” I was like a deer caught in headlights. Gazing at her I felt my cock get hard. “I was horny and wanted you. You

weren’t there. Come back to bed and make me come, Fabrice.” Holy fuck. How could any man refuse that? Her need for me pushed away all the bad thoughts when I looked at her. No one in their right mind would. I was the luckiest mother fucker around. I walked toward her and she held out her hand to guide me back to the bed. She climbed in and waited for me to get in next to her. The covers were still warm from her sleeping there while I showered. She lay on her back and spread her legs. I looked down. She was right she was horny and wet and all mine. Gazing at her laying in the soft white of my bed sheets brought out the femininity in her that drove me mad and

made me glad I was a man. Her tanned skin against the stark white, her hair wild and crazy fanned out over the fluffy pillows and most importantly the look in her eyes that told me only I could satisfy her the way she needed. “Fabrice,” she purred as she writhed around. For once I didn’t know what to do. I shivered gazing at her. She had the most perfect body there ever was. She was a sexual playground, and she waited for me to start playing. I bent down and took one of her nipples in my mouth and bit her ever so lightly. She moaned. My hand roamed across her and down to her pussy. My fingers slid in low, and she raised her hips up. Isabella grabbed onto my cock and rubbed it on

her clit. The wetness of her want made me even harder. The need to bring her to an orgasm became vicious. Watching her squirm with need made me insanely horny myself. My fingers were still inside her. I loved knowing I could hit that spot that made her scream. I took my fingers out of her and she grabbed my hand and put my fingers to my mouth. I knew what she wanted. I licked them as I looked at her. We said nothing as I sucked on my fingers. The sun came up and peeked through the curtains. It cast a dim light around the room making the mood even more sensual. “What do you want my sweet girl?” I could barely speak. Her hand still clasped my cock as she worked me

up and down. I hovered over her as she looked up at me. “I want you to come all over me, Fabrice.” Fuck. That was hot, and I was about there. She kept stroking my cock from the tip down to my nuts. She pulled my head down with her one hand and kissed me, tracing the outline of my lips with her tongue. I was so close. My cock hurt I was so turned on. The way she jacked me off was like nothing I ever had before. Her hand so firm yet soft, and she knew when to go fast and slow down. “I want your cum all over me today, Fabrice. I want to know you are with me. Come hard all over me.” She was being so naughty, spurring on my

orgasm as I felt it coming up and my body tightened. I looked down to see her pussy slick and open to me and I spewed like a volcano, all over stomach. She stopped stroking me after the last spurt and rubbed my cum into her skin like lotion. When she was done she looked extremely horny and I wanted her to come. I knew she needed to come so I flopped on my back and pulled her to me. “Turn around and stick your ass out. I want to get you off.” My voice sounded hoarse, and my cock was still semi hard. She stuck her ass out and quickly settled her pussy on my face. She arched her back and I knew she liked me teasing her. Playfully I lapped her up and

sucked on her clit until I felt the throb in my mouth. She was close. With her wetness covering my face she cried out. “Don’t stop Oh god don’t stop.” Her body tightened, and my hands caressed her ass as she came hard grinding into me. Listening to her groan as she continued to use my face to rub her clit to an orgasm was so fucking hot. Her thighs tightened around my head. Once the orgasm slowed, so did her gyrating. I could have stayed like that all day. Needless to say, I had a rushed morning after that. I spent the day at the Embassy with her taste on my lips. ~~~~~~~~~~~ My brother was still not located after two months. The FBI looked for

him in France and Italy. I had spoken to the Italian Ambassador and briefed him on what happened. He was glad to help out in the search or whatever he could do. There was no sign of him anywhere. I found that hard to believe. Romain wasn’t that slick to up and run away without a sign. Where he was, I didn’t know and at that point in my life, I didn’t care. My mother took the news as well as I had expected. That was her first born. He was a prince in her eyes no matter what he did. But, like my father, she had enough. She kept saying he would come back. After all the times he disappeared on us before, he always came back or contacted my parents. This time, he just vanished. I began to believe

maybe he did kill himself. What helped my mother cope was telling her I needed her to plan the wedding for Isabella and me. Isabella called and told her what she wanted and my mom had a renewed energy to get things moving. We also insisted they fly to DC for Thanksgiving and she and Isabella would be in charge of the entire meal. It didn’t take much to get her to agree. We were moving on with our lives and doing the best we could to make everything work. With Andrea now dead, and my country confirming the bombing of this groups headquarters, I felt we were safe again. They had bodies of this group. All of them were confirmed dead, and with that including

the sons of the terrorists. I was satisfied. There was still a lot to do even though the plans had changed. We needed a caterer, a band and a priest. I offered to fly Father Dave down to Paris to surprise Isabella. He agreed. The band? I got a hold of Marco and offered to fly him and his band down if he would play. He agreed. We were at five weeks out, on schedule, and the wedding couldn’t get here soon enough for me. At Thanksgiving, my parents came to Washington and we spent the holiday with the Piori’s. We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in France, but I felt this was a good time to start a new tradition. We were now almost Americans, and Thanksgiving was a major ordeal for the

Piori clan, and a beautiful holiday shared by the people we loved the most. I decided to have dinner at the mansion for a change. My house was used for all types of parties and benefits, why not a family Thanksgiving? I had someone come in and decorate. My girl was in her glory, cooking the day before. My mom and dad came out early and of course, the two women in my life were back in the kitchen doing what they did best. The smell throughout the house was so inviting. It was like parties we had when I was a boy living with my parents in Paris. I loved having the family around me and for once in months I felt like myself again. My dad and I took some time together the day before, and I

took him to the Embassy to meet everyone. The week before the wedding we flew together to Paris. Isabella’s parents stayed at my parents. We put everyone else up at the vineyard. The place was crowded, but so exciting and indescribable. I wanted a home filled with family and kids and I sure had one. With her sister Sophia, Ben, and their little girl in our home, I imagined how nice life would be to have a baby running around. The night before the wedding, Gustan, Isabella’s brothers, her father and I went out. We had a man’s night out on the town. That included lots of drinking, meat eating, and smoking

cigars. The night before my wedding was quiet and calm and that is how I wanted to spend the evening. I didn’t need a bachelor party. My whole life up until Isabella, had been a bachelor party. I was done with all that and none of it sounded appealing. The day of the wedding, our vineyard was turned into the most beautiful place on earth. That morning there was a light snow. My mom did an amazing job with organizing the event. There was a huge heated white tent used for the ceremony and another for the reception. Throughout the vineyard, candles were lit everywhere. French and Italian music played throughout the grounds. A horse-drawn carriage waited

for us. Marco and his band set up to play for the reception. Isabella loved dusk, so we planned a twilight wedding. The night could not be more perfect. The sun set and the sky was a mix of pinks and purples. The best part was watching my angel walk down the aisle. I felt my legs weaken when I saw her. The dress looked even better on her that night, and all I could think of was taking it off her. Gustan slapped me on the shoulder and winked when he saw Isabella, and everyone laughed. Isabella had no idea Father Dave was officiating the service until she met me at the altar and he stepped out. That brought the tears and the smiles. The loss of Avery was hard for

everyone when the wedding began. Father Dave mentioned she was there in spirt and her name brought tears to some eyes. My wedding day to Isabella was the most beautiful day of my life, and it’s something I thought would not happen. I was marrying my true soul mate and the love of my life. I couldn’t stop crying. The tears streamed down both of our cheeks as we faced each other and repeated the vows we wrote ourselves. I insisted on speaking first. “With you, I’ve found strength, true and undying love, and a partner for life. I admit, I have put you through hell. When I almost died, you were who I looked for. You made me whole again. Pushing you out of my life was the hardest thing I

ever had to do. I promise with all my heart to never hurt you again, to never see you cry for me unless its tears of joy. You have made me a better man.” I wiped tears from my eyes and continued. “Being the Ambassador of France is second to being your husband and sharing my life with you. You are the most beautiful and mysterious woman I have ever met. I promise to protect you, love you, and help you become whoever you want to be the rest of my life. We have so many wonderful memories to make. I look into your eyes and I see happiness, love, and wonderment. We have so much to look forward to in our lives and filling this vineyard with babies as beautiful as you are. You are a

gift from God. You are the greatest thing God ever created. Thank you for loving me.” Her family started to clap and yell. Isabella could barely get the words out. Father Dave hugged her and handed her a new tissue. “The moment I saw you my heart stopped. I knew you were going to be mine one way or the other. I was a naive girl going to work for you at my first job away from my family. I never dreamed you would love me as much as you do. I feel your love every day. When you almost died, I didn’t know how I would go on. When we ended our engagement I felt like every day was hell. The day you showed up at my porch looking so bad, I understood what true love was. You are

love, you have made my life complete and each day you are in my world is a gift from God. I plan on being by your side through our entire life holding on tight waiting for the next memory we can make together. You Fabrice Arbidoux are my rock, my strength, and the greatest love of my life. Thank you for giving me you.” How I made it through that was a miracle. I could hear my mamma and Isabella’s mom crying. When we officially were pronounced man and wife, I grabbed her in my arms and kissed her with such force, we almost fell over. The family whooped and hollered and gave us a standing ovation. We walked down the aisle hand in hand. The carriage was

going to take us for a ride through the vineyard before we entered the reception. It was the first time we were alone the entire day and as husband and wife. I grabbed her in my arms and held her close to me not wanting to let her go. “Well, Mrs. Arbidoux how does it feel to be a married woman?” “I’m so happy, Fabrice. I married my best friend. How does being an old married man feel to you?” “Like our lives are only beginning. We have had some trials already but you and I make one hell of a team. We have so much to look forward to. I love you, Isabella. You are simply one of a kind. You look so fucking beautiful.” I kissed

her sweetly on the lips and tried to get my hand up her dress. She playfully slapped my hand away. “Oh no. You must wait till later. I have a few surprises for you.” “I plan on taking you in every position tonight.” “I’ll be taking you, in every position. You may need to take a small nap before this reception is over.” As she kissed me, she said, “You are all mine now and I’m going fuck you into oblivion tonight.” “You should have said that in your vows. There is nothing I want more tonight then to be fucked into oblivion.” The evening was beautiful, magical and totally perfect. We danced,

drank, and sang until the wee hours of the morning. Before we headed out to our honeymoon, the band played Non, je ne regretted rien, the song I’d sung to Isabella on the boat the night we were on the River Seine. We looked at each other and laughed. I pulled her close to me and whispered in her ear. “I believe you came to this song once.” “Yes I did, and I want you to sing to me again tonight when I have come for the twentieth time.” My parents wedding gift to us was ten days in Bora Bora. The day after we arrived, I sat in the over-the-water bungalow of our exquisite house overlooking the ocean. I watched the

boats drift on the ice blue water as I enjoyed the silence and looking down at my wedding band. She was officially mine. I was finally married. I thought back on the past few months. Getting shot, losing her and now having her as my wife. I would do it all over again to have her. I would give up everything for her. What I felt for Isabella could not be bought or sought after. It just was. The way we met and the lengths we went to be together was something you can’t understand. She was made for me and I for her. I couldn’t sleep, and I had just showered while my Isabella still slept. The place we were staying in was amazing. The floor was glass and I was

standing on top of the ocean while I walked around this bungalow. I could move here eventually. I saw her tanned muscular leg sticking out from the mammoth bed we had made love on all night. The sight of her leg made my cock hard. Even after what we did the night before, I wanted to do it all over again and again. I wanted to run my tongue up her beautiful sculpted leg until I made my way to her pussy. I had a feeling we wouldn’t be leaving this bungalow much. Thank God for room service. I heard a rustling in the bedroom as I looked to see my new wife waking up. The woman was beautiful beyond comprehension. I remember the first time I saw her when she came to interview

for the job as my assistant. I knew then I would not be the same. I didn’t care what I lost, I knew I had to have her. We traveled a rough road to get to where we were, but I was relieved we were married. I couldn’t imagine having a life without her. There was no life without her. I adored being alone with her again and I planned on enjoying every second of her and our time together. “Fabrice,” she said, in her husky well fucked voice. I walked into our room and stood by the bed. The one woman I have wanted the most in my life was in front of me naked and wanting me again. Me, who was scared, damaged and almost wrecked. She saw past my scars and wounds and loved me for who

I was. She loved me and nothing, not money, the Ambassadorship or anything else mattered. With her I was the man I needed to be. With her, I was just Fabrice Arbidoux. “Why are you up already, baby?” she asked, sleepily with her beautiful dark brown eyes hooded in sleep. “I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to see the sun come up over the ocean. This place is like paradise,” I said. “I have all the paradise I need to see standing right in front of me. I want you, Fabrice.” “Isabella,” I groaned. I pushed my boxers down and stood in front of her naked. “You are all I need or ever will

need. I’m so happy, Fabrice” she said. She pressed her face into my stomach, breathing me in, and grabbing my bare ass. I couldn’t resist her and the sight of my Isabella lying on the bed wanting me, was enough to make my cock stone hard. She pulled me down on top of her. “Come here and make love to me.” “I live to make love to you, Isabella. Satisfying you is why I was born.” I slipped inside her pussy with little effort. She had to be sore after the night we had. Listening to the ocean and the silence serenaded our love making. She whispered in my ear as she raked her hands through my hair. “I love when you’re inside me,” My skin tingled with every stroke and my body tightened.

I enjoyed teasing her by giving her a little and then taking my cock out. The next stroke was deeper and then I would stop. The more I did that the wetter she became for me. I devoured her breasts and sucked her nipples while I thrust myself in her slowly and tantalizing. I heard a moan escape my throat as she teased me, letting her tongue run up and down my neck. I loved to look down and see her engrossed in making love to me. Watching her was a gift in itself. I was the luckiest man on earth the moment I saw her. I ached knowing how much we loved each other. How being apart nearly killed us.

Her moans became louder and her breathing more labored. “Fabrice, I’m going to come. Please don’t stop.” “Yes baby, I want you to come with me. Tease yourself and enjoy every inch going in and out of you. How perfectly I fit inside you,” I said, slowing down the thrusts until I was dying for more. She grabbed my ass and squeezed hard bringing me inside her more. I stopped thrusting and lay on top of her. My cock throbbing inside and her pussy clenching me tight. “Please, Fabrice,” she begged. I could feel her smile as I kissed her full pouty full lips that were warm and wet. looked down at her. Her eyes were half closed as she stared at me. Then she

started gyrating under me. Her hands let go of my ass and trailed along my back and shoulders. My hands fisted in her hair as we rocked to our own rhythm. She stopped and looked at me again. “I live for you.” I wonder if she knew what she did to me saying that. To hear her say that was amazing. No one has ever said that. The rush that took over me was as if I was on a high powered drug. My heart pounded and my body was tense. She moaned when I grabbed her hair and pulled. “Come inside me, Fabrice.” Sparks shot up my spine. My balls grew tight, and I knew I was almost there. When I came, she shuddered and came

with me. Together we rode out the orgasm as I held on for dear life. I collapsed on her and buried my face in her neck. We were both drenched in sweat. “I meant it when I said you are the greatest thing God created,” I whispered in her ear. “I love you so much, Isabella.” “I love you more.” I rolled off her and gathered her in my arms. My leg held up pretty good through that round. She stroked my newly messed hair as she lay on my chest. “I was always yours, Fabrice. No one will ever take your place. I’ve been yours since I was born,” she whispered,

as she looked up and kissed my chin. “I still can’t believe we made it here,” I said. “Bora Bora? I never knew you wanted to come here so bad.” Isabella lifted her head to look at me. “No, that we are now married.” “Well, we would have gotten married sooner, but you lost your mind and kicked me out of the house.” Now she was being a comedian. “That’s not entirely correct. You agreed to leave, took off my ring, and refused to see me. I’m not all to blame.” “Bullshit. You told me to go and the wedding was off. I was pissed. Do you know that Marin was at my condo the next week and knew what

happened?” I had no idea. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?” “I forgot, I really did until now. She said the two of you were back together and I was to leave you alone. She would be taking care of you and you sent her to the condo to inform me that we would never be together again,” she laughed. I remember Marin telling me she hurt Isabella, and she would again. This is what she meant. “I wish you would have told me. She came to my office the same day I went to your parents’ house, begging me to take her back. I had to get nasty with her and threaten her to leave you alone. I see my threats worked. I never spoke to

her before or after that. How would she have found out?” “Everyone knew you broke off your engagement. Not only was I heartbroken, but I was humiliated.” Isabella smiled at me “Wait till she finds out we are actually married. I may have to kick her ass if she bothers me again.” She snuggled back into my arms. “Be my guest. I want to watch though. About our time in Paris, I’m so sorry. Isabella, I will spend the rest of my life making that up to you.” She blinked up at me fighting to keep tears from pooling in her eyes. “You already did. You made me your wife and that is the best gift in the world.”

I caressed her hair and ran my fingertips across her cheeks and she relaxed. I drifted off to sleep thinking about how far we have come since the terrorist attack and what brought us back together. Our love was something out of a fairytale. Our love was not going to end. No one or nothing would ever take her from me again. Before I fell asleep, I told her what I had been thinking about. “You know now that were married, you should stop taking the pill and see what happens.” I wanted to have a child with her. To see a part of each of us grown inside her would be the ultimate gift of love. “Oh really? You want me knocked

up and fat?” “I would love you knocked up and fat.” There was a silence as she looked up at me again. “Well, I’m one step ahead of you. I quit taking the pill last week. We may already have your wish granted, Ambassador.”

This book is dedicated to my daughters. My rocks and my heroes. I love you Hannah and Abbi. You are my inspiration every day to be a better

person. Thank you for putting up with me. I wouldn’t be writing if it wasn’t for the two of you. Thank you to the bloggers and reviewers for reading my work. It means so much to me that you took the time to read my story. To my ladies, Elizabeth, Angel, Melissa, Emma, Barbara, Katie, Melody and Yasmine. You’re the best. Hope you will be with me through my entire career. I love you all. Thank you Helena Rizzuto. Without you, no one would be reading my books. I’m so glad you came into my life. To my editor, M.E. Montgomery. I think

you know how much you mean to me. You are a treasure I hope to keep with me for the long haul. Thank you for helping me become a better writer. Jackie Sheats thank you for tolerating me again.