She breathed in deep, hoping to find the numbness that helped her get through life. That helped her get through uncomfortable moments. That helped her deal with people who wanted to hurt her.

She couldn’t find it, couldn’t shield herself from the things he was making her feel. He looked at her, looked at her as though he could see right through all the walls she’d spent the past eleven years building to partition herself off from the world. And she felt naked. Like he could see the worst of her scars, into her, past the damage on her skin.

“Do you have pictures of this dress?” he asked, pulling her out of her thoughts, his focus on the business at hand helping rebuild some of her crumbling defenses.

“I take pictures of every piece. I have them in my portfolio.”

“Excellent. Email it to me and I’ll send it to Karen at Look.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.”

He turned to go then. Without even saying goodbye. It was like his mere move to exit should be sufficient. Standing in her own studio, he managed to make her feel like she was the one who had been dismissed.

She gritted her teeth against rising annoyance. Annoyance and something else that made her feel hot all over, made her face prickle.

She opened her laptop again and got ready to send the email to Blaise, using the address he’d so helpfully provided on the loan paperwork, those documents that gave him so much power.

So much power over her. She hated that. Hated him a little bit, too. This was meant to be her success, not his. The evidence of how far she’d come. Of all that she was capable of.

She attached the picture and left the body of the email blank. She didn’t have anything to say to the man. She would work with him, do what she had to do to hold on to her business. And as soon as she could, she was paying him back and getting things back on track. Back on her terms.

She looked at the clock on her computer’s task bar and swore mildly. She’d been invited to a Parisian socialite’s birthday party and she needed to make an appearance. Blaise might not think it was effective marketing, but she thought differently.

He might own her business, but despite what she’d thought in her most dramatic moments, he didn’t own her.

And she had a party to go to.

SHE was a pro at working a room, that was certain. Blaise tipped his drink to his lips but didn’t take in any of the bubbly liquid. Alcohol and the buzz that came with it held little appeal to him. Losing control wasn’t his idea of fun.

He watched as Ella talked to the small group of women that stood around her. She laughed, lifting up her foot slightly so they could get a better look at the electric-pink stilettos she was wearing.

The dress was sleeveless, showing off rough discolored patches of skin, the flesh on the upper portion of her left arm obscured completely by the marks. She seemed unconcerned, making grand, sweeping gestures as she talked.

He noticed that while no one looked at her with disdain, they did stand at a distance. He wondered if the scars were to blame. Ella didn’t seem to care either way.

She was bubbly, confident. She was smiling, something he didn’t know if he’d ever seen her do, not in a genuine way. But then, she didn’t like him very much. Something he should be used to by now.

He set his drink on the bar and wove through the crowded club. Ella looked up from her friends and he saw her blue eyes widen, watched as her smile became forced.

“Mr. Chevalier, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” she said, her manner smooth, but he could feel the strain it was taking for her to remain composed.

“I was invited, but wasn’t sure if I could make it.” This wasn’t his usual scene. If he wanted to find quick and easy female company then he might bother with party attendance, otherwise, he had no reason to go to events like this.

Lately he hadn’t even felt compelled to find a temporary lover. He found the games tiresome. Sex had been a catharsis after Marie had left, a way to try to wash away the memory, but now the endless stream of one-night stands had become boring. More than that, it filled him with a vague sense of disgust. Not anything new, but he found no reason to add to his sins.

Even now, one of the women in Ella’s group was giving him a look that let him know all he had to do was ask and she would be his for the night. Knowing that a few months ago he wouldn’t have hesitated to take her up on it made him feel a tinge of discomfort.