Three weeks later

Grace was perfect.

She is perfect. We’ve attended four weddings and one funeral – of a client that was way past his prime. She soaks up everything I tell her like a sponge and uses the knowledge to play the model girlfriend. While unlike real models or girlfriends, beneath her elegant poise the same challenging little vixen still lingers.

I don’t know what the fuck is happening here but for the first time in my life I’m out of my depth. Almost.

All I want every minute of every day is to hold her tight in my arms, feeling her let go of the tension in her pert little body and to bury myself balls deep inside it of course. But that first part is throwing me off. I’ve never felt much like protecting one particular woman. The outside world, sure – abandoned children, those suffering the brute criminal justice system, battered women. Those are all pet causes I give money to in a meaningful way.

But wanting to make sure one woman is safe from harm, and more, that her life is happy and with minimal stress – now that’s a new one on me. And so every day yo-yos back and forth between protection and devastating lust. Where do I take that after I’ve taken her? And I should have remembered that she’s my parolee intern. Would it not be vastly inappropriate to lodge her in my bed? But who’s making the rules here?

It’s definitely not like me to play by any but those I make up.

She been very quiet at the office every Monday after we spend our Saturdays at various social events. During the week we don’t see each other that often as I have meetings that run early and late. Not everyone spends their summer in Cap D’Antibes. They send their wives out there, to the Vineyard or Mediterranean villa, and then play freely in the city. Same as I do year round. Hanging out at Illicit, or other clubs created for our amusement.

Except I haven’t been to Illicit for a month. Not since before Grace started working for me. Not since she took over my head. I’m just thinking I should get through the summer and then things will get back to normal when she moves forward with her own life.

But when we do cross paths in the office, we’re very cordial, for the benefit of our co-workers. I’m pretty sure I was enticed by the little minx’s rebel behavior. Something that’s entirely vanished from my own life. It was an insane, even irresponsible idea, to make her the offer to play my girlfriend but I never renege on my word.

I text her Friday, just as I’m leaving a meeting in Boston, to remind her we have another society bash on the weekend.

I don’t get a response and when I arrive back in the office, mayhem has plundered by usually serene space.

“I’m so sorry, Sir, I had no idea.”

Janice leaps up as soon as I emerge from my private elevator, expecting to unwind in a quiet office. Instead there are cops everywhere and my Grace is sitting on an office chair in the middle of the hallway, her hands cuffed behind her.

In the fucking hall, where anyone coming to speak to me or Janice can witness her humiliation. Blood rages into my brain until I see bright lights of fury. If I had any sort of weapon on me right now, I’d be lethal. All I have is my personal power.

“What the fuck is going on?” I roar. “Uncuff her right now.”

“Excuse me sir, but we have the girl restrained for everyone’s protection,” the dick cop says. One of those that gets off on restraining girls one tenth his size. One that puts up a barricade against the power I wield, seeking to oppose it with his own tinpot authority given him by a government that will strip it away just as fast. Rage burns like wildfire in my gut. How dare he challenge me.

“I don’t give a shit. I said uncuff her,” I bark.

Grace hasn’t looked up once from her drooping head, her eyes on the ground, shoulders hunched. I want to pull her into my lap and have her smiling and laughing again. I can't stand it when she’s downtrodden. The paunchy cop doesn’t move. I control my urge to fist him and instead round on him with the menace I wield.

“She isn’t a danger to anyone,” I hiss, “Or aren’t you fit enough to restrain one tiny girl?”

Yeah, let’s toss a little shame his way, see how it feels. And he’s brandishing weapons attached to his sagging stomach, he’s not a helpless poor girl.

“I have authority over my staff in my building here, no one else.”

He looks like he might refuse still but his partner nudges him and he reluctantly goes to uncuff Grace. She still doesn't lift her gaze from the carpet. All the work I did building her confidence back after the hit it had clearly taken has evaporated.

“What did she do?” I demand.

“Sir, there have been multiple fraudulent charges on your Amex card,” Janice steps in. “Aside from gold and diamond jewelry, there’s a trip to Europe, fine hotels, and then for ten people to a resort in Tahiti.”

I eye Grace. The thought that she’s planning to take off on me renders me speechless with rage. I don't care about her using my money. How can she be plotting to leave without so much as a word? Is it vengeance for the way I’ve been treating her? I gave her an apartment but I withdrew the promise of myself in the mix.

I did my best to be the responsible boss but now I realize I had no intention of her leaving, ever. Which makes the end of her summer temp job a little awkward. My time of pulling back from her hasn't helped at all. If anything I’m more frustrated and as pent up as a bear. It wouldn’t take much to unleash my rage on the arrogant cop.

My gaze piercing into Grace’s bowed form must connect to some deep sense in her, because very slowly she lifts her head, then her eyes to locate mine. I know in one look there’s something more going on here. This girl isn’t your normal fraudster thief. I’ve spent enough time around phonies and with her over the last few weeks to know Gracie is genuine in her heart.

Anyway, I’’d give anything to wipe the smug self-satisfaction from the officer’s face.

“I gave Miss Hart my Amex card,” I announce.

“But, sir...” I hold up my hand for Janice to quiet down which she immediately does. She knows better than to correct me.

“Yes Ms. Markle,” I say for the officer's benefit alone, “I know that as far as you’re concerned, she was supposed to buy a business outfit but I also gave her permission to use my card for further purchases.”

“But the thing is, Mr Grady, Grace here denies using the card,” the smug one intervenes with a ‘gotcha’ grin.

He’s acting like he can’t wait to get her downtown and work her over. Like he’s saving the world from evil by arresting one broke girl.

“She’s clearly distressed at her treatment here today,” I say casually but firm. “I may have to discuss this with my legal team and see what grounds we have for harassment. As it is, you don’t have a case if there’s been no fraud and so I’ll allow you to take your leave.”

The officers look at each other then at Janice who I assume confirmed their suspicion, seeing as she fired Grace a few weeks ago. I stand firm, between the cops and their suspect and eventually they leave slowly, unwilling to give up an easy snag and disgruntled. Janice bustles about with paperwork, while apologizing and looking for the way back to my good graces.

My eyes remain fixed on my only Grace. The terror in her eyes tells me everything that she suffered in the prison she was locked in. If you aren't accustomed to that kind of chaos, if you didn't grow up in violence and hatred, or if you did and also had shame heaped on you from an early age, a cell can be a horrific experience.

I get Grace up out of her chair where she seems almost frozen solid, limbs rigid with what must be fear.

“Have a good weekend, Janice,” I say and with Grace held in my arm, weaving like a drunk, we leave with Janice’s slack-mouthed gaze following us. It seems no one quite believes that Grace and I are suited. Not that I give a fuck what anyone thinks.

“Thanks for the Knight in Shiny routine,” Grace slurs. She leans into me for support and the blood surges hot in my veins just having her close to me again.

“Any time,” I say. “I hate that kind of assumption of guilt.”

“I didn’t...”

“Shhh, It’s okay. I think you’re in shock. I’m going to take you home.”

“I’ll be okay. I mean I won’t let you down tomorrow.”

I get her into the elevator and across the lobby, waving away the concierge when he rushes forward to help a little too eagerly for my liking.

“Are you okay, Grace?” He asks her.

“She’s fine,” I grit, what the fuck is it to him?

“Thank you Ryan, I’ll be okay.”

Her fingers reach to his arm and I almost detonate with rage that some guy wants to protect her when that falls to me. Is this who she wants to be with? This type of down to earth dude could make her feel comfortable?

Ryan – how does she even know the guy’s name? - holds the door and I lead Grace to my car, at last Henry discreetly averts his eyes. Grace gives the appearance of a drunk, the way she’s slurring and rambling. She rests her head on my shoulder and when I don’t take her hand in both mine as usual, rests her palm on my thigh. Her touch sends searing heat straight to my balls. My desire for her has in no way diminished despite my best efforts.

She’s still woozy when we arrive at her place and I summon all the discipline I have to not take her home with me. The thought of her alone in her apartment is unsettling. The thought of her alone with me in mine is more so. I know I can’t control myself any longer.

“Don’t worry I’m fine,” she says again, as I help her out of the car, then immediately stumbles into me.

I catch her and pull her close, trying to ignore the temptation of her perfect curves against my body.

“Come on, baby girl, let’s tuck you up.”

Holding Grace in one arm, I get her upstairs and unlock her door. Once inside I get her out of her clothes, picturing cold showers and when that doesn't work, icebergs and freezing to death in the death zone on Everest, the coldest place I’ve ever been when I summitted on my thirtieth birthday.

I leave her underwear on. There are limits to my endurance.

“Don’t go,” she moans as I turn to leave. She reaches out her arms for me and the surge through my blood is irresistible.

“Just a few minutes,” I tell her. “Until you fall asleep.”

I take off my jacket and lie down beside her, wrapping her under my arm. She curls into me, wriggling herself into the spaces created by my swollen muscles, then further settling her softness into my ridges. Her little fingers toy along the length of my ab muscles, purring softly as she explores. She’s not herself. She’s not thinking clearly. I have to restrain the wolf rearing up in me from ravaging her.

Moments later Grace is snoring lightly, passed out from the stresses she went through this afternoon that have taken a huge toll on her body. The most perfect body I’ve ever had nestled in my arms. She fits into me like the key to the kingdom.