French Fling To Forever. Karin Baine

      ‘I’m not that petty. Besides, it’s only the number plate that looks damaged.’ It wasn’t as though she’d written off his boy toy altogether.

      ‘Does your clown car not come with mirrors fitted?’

      He looked down his high-bridged nose at her with a smug expression she wanted to slap off his face. The car she drove was a luxury, allowed her by the generosity of her brothers, who’d painstakingly restored it from its rusty former self and made it hers with a bubblegum-pink re-spray. Not everyone was afforded the life of privilege she imagined he’d led, and any snooty slight against her family was the one thing guaranteed to make her blood boil.

      ‘I would have thought your ego was big enough to use as a force field and deflect the Pink Peril.’

      With three elder brothers, exchanging childish insults came as naturally as breathing for Lola. She already had a black mark against her for squaring up to him, so she might as well make it count. Besides, he’d gone down the snarky route first.

      ‘The Pink Peril?’ he echoed incredulously and the grin grew into a full-on beaming smile.

      He was treading on dangerous ground now.

      ‘My brothers named it,’ she huffed, and told her easily pleased inner schoolgirl, which was squealing with hormonal appreciation at the appearance of man dimples, to shut up. It was surely another sign of trauma manifesting itself that she found a man insulting her attractive.

      ‘Do I take it that’s a reference to your driving skills?’ His eyes shone with suppressed laughter, the skin creasing at the corners to elevate his hunk status.

      ‘I have excellent driving skills,’ she protested.

      ‘So I see.’ He lifted a thick dark brow as he glanced back at the damage.

      ‘Look, I’ve apologised. I’ll pay for repairs. So, if we’re done here…?’

      It was time she left—before she completely shot down her career. This man seemingly brought out the worst in her, and that wasn’t conducive to a happy six weeks under his tutelage.

      Far from helping her get over the day’s trials and tribulations, this whole evening had simply heaped more stress upon her. At least with this latest disaster she knew she could count on her brothers to make any necessary repairs with the minimum of fuss. If only they could come to work with her tomorrow and clear up the mess she’d made there, too, she might have a chance of clawing back some respect.

      ‘I think I have an apology of my own to make. I didn’t mean to insult you in there.’

      Henri ignored her need to end the conversation and perched his butt on the bonnet of his precious car.

      ‘And yet you did.’ She folded her arms across her chest as he brought up the subject of his slur against her character once more. He couldn’t know the throwaway insult had hit her on such a personal level, but that didn’t give him the right to end up the good guy here.

      ‘The problem is between Angelique and myself. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It’s fair to say I don’t exactly approve of the work she does.’ A shake of his head emphasised his dismay.

      ‘She seems like a woman who knows her own mind.’ Lola didn’t imagine a free spirit such as Angelique needed his permission to do something she obviously loved.

      ‘Ah, but Ange doesn’t always know what’s best for her.’

      The sincerity Henri expressed brought goosebumps along Lola’s skin. Even though he might not agree with his other half’s lifestyle choice, his devotion was beyond doubt. The only unconditional love Lola had ever had was from her brothers. The tragic tale of her failed past relationships was entirely to do with her reluctance to let anyone else get close. She considered Angelique a very lucky woman.

      ‘It’s chilly out here, so if we could get back to rectifying this mess I would like to get home. I really think your licence plate took the full impact, and I can get my brother to order you a new one. I hardly think it warrants involving insurance companies.’

      What went on behind the doors of chez Benoit was none of her business—she certainly didn’t want to warm towards the man responsible for ruining her entire day. All she wanted to do now was call it quits and start afresh tomorrow.

      ‘In that case we can sort the details out at work. I can see you’re in a hurry.’

      He finally took the hint and Lola dashed back to her car to wait for him to move.

      As she sat with her arms locked out straight, holding on to the steering wheel for dear life, she exhaled slowly. Everything seemed to hit her at once, and her heart started drumming so hard she thought she might just pass out.

      One night of escapism, thinking she could be ‘normal’, and she’d played stripper, crashed her car and had another run-in with her boss—embarrassing herself at every step. It was more excitement in her life than she cared for.

      The next six weeks working under Henri Benoit stretched before her like a prison sentence. One with absolutely no chance of getting time off for good behaviour.