The Frenchman (Crime Royalty Romance Book 1) by Lesley Young Read Free Book Online

back of Louis’s head, intensely. Angrily? I glanced at Bastien. He was watching Marie closely. Something was off. It was her body language. She was stiff. Her legs were spread. Her arms slightly out at her sides. Plus, her mouth had flattened, and her hands were in fists.
    No time for that because the elevator reached our floor. I was going to have to pass by Louis. Dread steered me back to anger. I couldn’t let this man make me feel this way. Ashamed. Undesirable. Wounded. The list was long considering he was practically a stranger. Yeah, one who could I.D. my snatch in a series of random nude Snapchats.
    I squared my shoulders, preparing to give him a nasty stare as he stepped out to let us pass by.
    But he didn’t look my way. Instead, his lasers were aimed at Bastien .
    Louis’s face was stiff with animosity, and I gaped, speechless, at Bastien. Even as the elevator doors closed—Louis slayed Bastien.
    What in the . .  .
    Bastien didn’t acknowledge my silent question. He rubbed the outside bridge of his nose and glance at Marie, eyebrows raised expectantly.
    Yes, what was with Marie? She was still tense.
    They shared an expressive look.
    “ Salaud (Scumbag),” muttered Marie.
    “ Tu le gardes tout près . (You’re keeping him close.)” He shrugged. “ Tu pourrais déménager . (You could move.)”
    Huh, what?
    “ Non ,” she barked. “ C’est chez moi ici . (This is my home.)”
    Shocked, I interrupted. “Uh, Marie, do you—” I cleared my throat, wanting to appear casual “—know that man or something?”
    Smack . She slapped me with my first glimmer of her policewoman stare. Without answering, she took a step down the hall, but paused suddenly, turning to me. “Stay away from him,” she hissed.
    My stomach dropped and my pulse quickened. “Oh, uh, sure. I mean, but, why?”
    “Just do as I say!”
    Taking in my no-doubt-surprised reaction (I was desperately hoping she couldn’t read the guilt on my face—already kind of seen him, Marie), she softened. “Fleur, you need only to trust me in this. You see what kind of man he is with two salopes ,” she added, upper lip curled. She shuddered and headed on, leaving me utterly gobsmacked.
    Not only did she know Louis, she disliked him. Furthermore, she’d ordered me not to see him.
    I needed an explanation. But I couldn’t demand one. Marie might ask me why I wanted to know, in which case I would have to explain. “Oh, yeah, well I nearly bopped him in your bedroom just last night, no biggie.” Not exactly dream-daughter material. We were still getting to know each other. The last thing I wanted was to ruin her impression of me.
    Curiosity competed with discretion.
    Nope. Don’t say a word.
    I clomped down the hall, brooding on the other inexplicable Louis moment: the whole stare-down with Bastien. He’d zeroed in on our dinner companion with a look that seemed to say, “Prepare to die.”
    His actions could only mean one of two things, I deduced, as we paraded into the apartment and set about unloading groceries.
    Either Louis knew Bastien—and really, what were the odds?—and he didn’t like him, or, Louis had blasted Bastien on my account. And that sure as blue blazes didn’t make sense. Because even if Louis had mistakenly thought Bastien and I were together, why would he care? He’d made it very clear, last night and definitely just now—I rubbed my face, surprised to feel my nose tickle with tears—that he didn’t want me.
    And frankly, I didn’t want him anymore either.

Chapter 4
    Okay, I still wanted him.
    It had been a struggle to prep the meal, drink and be merry, knowing what Louis was up to six floors above me.
    Of course he could totally handle two women, I fumed. Just not one virgin.
    Worse, how could I still want him? That was the truly baffling part. People wonder why women are attracted to bad boys. I always thought the answer was easy: picture Ryan Gosling in a biker jacket, fitted out in movie-set press-on