Her Haunted Millionaire

The wind blew wildly outside. The rain and grey skies perfectly matched his mood.

Raphaël Sauvage sat in his home office, listening to the rumble of the thunder. The power of the sky was evident in the deep, rolls of thunder and the flashing lightning.

He found it exceptionally beautiful.

He swiveled his brandy in its glass, his jaw clenching.

Her eyes flashed in his memory.

The blue-green sparkling as she threw her head back in laughter.

His dear sister.

Fresh anger burned through him as he remembered her death, with deep sadness following hot on its heels.

His dearest sister. Dead.

There was a knock at the door.

Raphaël looked up as Rosa, his housekeeper, entered.

"Raphaël," she said.

"Hm," was his answer.

Reaching over with a sigh, Rosa took the glass of brandy out of his hand.

He let her. Rosa had been around for as long as Raphaël could remember.

She was there even before his parents died. Her presence replaced theirs and he was grateful.

He looked up at her, his eyes a strong steel grey.

"Raphaël, you must not think of it," she said quietly, her Italian accent slight. "It will only hurt you."

He nodded, silent.

Rosa sighed. "I will be gone this week, you know this. My niece will be here, however, to take over my duties."

Raphaël frowned. "I don't want a stranger here, Rosa." His husky voice resonated through the office.

"Oh, I assure you, she will not get in your way. Besides, she's been here before. Many times, when you both were little... but you were younger, you may not recall."

He nodded, silently picturing the red-cheeked little face he remembered from when he was little. Rosa sighed again, reaching over to pat his hand as she turned to leave.

"Rosa."

She stopped and turned back to him.

"Yes, Raphaël?"

He hesitated. "How... how is he?"

Rosa nodded. "He is peaceful. I have put him to bed now."

Having gotten his answer, Raphaël nodded and turned in his chair, facing the glass behind him as the sky cracked up with light.

"It's been weeks since he arrived here now and you continue to avoid him," Rosa said sadly. "You must speak to the little one, Raphaël, you're his Uncle. He must know you. He needs much help."

Raphaël dragged a hand through his hair.

"J'en sais pas, Rosa. How... what do I say to him?"

"One step at a time. You, like your father, are very wise. You will find a way, Raphaël. "

He scoffed, nearly spitting out a curse at the mention of his father. "Wise, my ass."

"Raphaël-"

"The child," he said before she could tell him to mind his manners and all such. "...he still hasn't spoken?"

"Not one word," said Rosa.

Rosa watched Raphaël turn to her and the anguish in his eyes tore at her heart.

The sky was lit up for a moment, casting a flash of light over his face. To Rosa, it was like seeing a ghost. From birth, he resembled his father. The dark looks, thick brown hair. That intimidating height and those wide, large shoulders, his stubborn chin and hard, grey eyes. Many trembled in the presence of Raphaël Sauvage.

How proud she was of him.

"Isabelle will be here tomorrow morning," Rosa said softly and left, closing the door quietly.

Raphaël leaned back in his chair, consumed by his own darkness. His own pain was dragging him down and drowning him, mercilessly. So, how in the hell would he help this child?

He closed his eyes, his mind running wild with thoughts as he silently wished and prayed, willing his demons not to visit him tonight.

"Damn you!"

Isabelle kicked at the rock that nearly tripped her with an annoyed scowl.

"Stupid rock..." she muttered.

On a sigh she looked back up at the long driveway ahead of her.

Was this road taking her to the Sauvage mansion to heaven? Why was it so long?!

Isabelle tugged on her suitcase, damning every item of clothing in there that had made it this heavy, down to the tiniest thong! Why did she have to suffer this way?

Pausing for a moment, she wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, glaring up at the sunny sky. Such horrible weather. Was this France or the middle of the Sahara desert?

With a groan, she trudged on. A few more torturous minutes that felt like hours finally brought her to the crunchy gravel before the Sauvage mansion.

Isabelle looked up at it with her mouth hanging open. She didn't remember it being so damn... shiny. And expensive looking.

The nostalgia hit her out of nowhere, bringing to mind flowery afternoons she spent playing on this huge property. Her mouth curved in a smile before she stilled it, reminding herself that she wasn't here on vacation.

Gosh, this magnificent house. Its tall French windows, the black, wide front stair railings, giving the house this dramatic feel. It had been changed since the time she was a child, but it still had this majestic air about it.

A house fit for an emperor.

Well, maybe a few centuries off there, but still.

Sighing, Isabelle trudged on.

Goodness, it was going to be a task. Housekeeping this gorgeous but gigantic house, coupled with the greatly feared Raphaël Sauvage all juggled with her book writing, which was her actual career.

It couldn't be helped. Aunt Rosa needed her help while her uncle was ill in Italy, so she'd have to suck it up and help her aunt. Even if it meant seeing Raphaël Sauvage again.

Ignoring the icy shiver running down her spine, she scoffed and rolled her eyes.

They weren't little kids anymore. She would look him in the face with no fear whatsoever.

Whether that happened before or after he froze her to death with his cold gaze was yet to be seen.

Ignoring that thought, Isabelle picked up her pace, her sandals making slight crunching noises on the gravel.

The birds were tweeting and the sun was shining, spring was in full bloom. The delightful sight brought nothing short of nausea to her stomach.

"God, I can't wait for winter," she panted as she approached the door. "Bloody butterflies."

Isabelle reached the front stairs and touched a hand to her head to ensure that all her thick, brown hair was neat. It wouldn't do good to look like she carried a beaver's nest on her head the moment he opened the door.

She whipped out a small mirror and flipped it open, checking her reflection. With a groan, she dabbed at the sweat glistening on her forehead with the sleeve of her denim jacket. That damn long driveway was now on her list of enemies.

Her heart-shaped face was well structured with soft, but visible cheekbones, soft lips and expressive blue eyes which sparkled when she laughed and flashed when she was angry. Which... was too often because of that nasty short temper.

She didn't know where she got it from because her mother had been the sweetest woman alive. And her father? Well... who knew if the man was even alive?

Shoving the mirror in her pocket and glancing down at her outfit, Isabelle hoped that the cute above-the-knee floral dress and the denim jacket weren't too casual for this.

But who gives a damn anyway? She liked her appearance and Damn him, with a capital D, if he felt otherwise.

With that settled, Isabelle lifted her hand and pressed the doorbell.

A somber 'Ding dong' sounded through the house and Isabelle shivered at the gloomy sound. It had sounded so dark, like she'd just rang the doorbell on the door to death.

She rocked back and forth on her heels, wondering where the bloody Butler was.

"Do they still have a Butler?" she murmured aloud. "Oh, right, they fired him when we were in fifth grade. Poor guy."

Isabelle stopped talking to herself when she realized nobody was answering the door. On impulse, she put her hand on the door knob and turned. The door glided open.

"Okay," she murmured. "Wow. Is this trespassing? This isn't trespassing, they're expecting me. They are expecting me, right?"

With no answers to the questions she was asking herself, she pulled her bags along and walked cautiously into the house.

"Woah." Stopping, she turned her face up to the chandelier, staring with her mouth open at every last thing in the front hall. She didn't remember this place looking like a five star hotel!

The floor? Wood shiny and expensive enough to buy her little broken car fifty times over!

Shaking her head, Isabelle walked further into the house. How was she supposed to keep this whole place running? How the hell had Aunt Rosa done it for so many years?!

Putting her hands on her hips, she looked around. When she was a little girl and would come by with Aunt Rosa, she was limited to the kitchen and the fabulous garden on the other side of the house. Her aunt was always too scared that young and very mischievous Isabelle would break some priceless glass thingamabob or forever damage some Sauvage treasure. Therefore, Isabelle was kept far away from the irreplaceables.

Never really came in here and she only ever caught glimpses of the precious Sauvage children.

The interior was truly beautiful.

The smooth white walls made her afraid to even sneeze in this parlor.

She walked on and then came to a large, beautifully furnished lounge area.

Damn, to watch a horror movie on that gigantic screen! Bucket list.

The large black sofas look ideal for a movie night too, although she couldn't imagine this beautiful wood floor littered with popcorn.

Suddenly, an arrangement of photographs captured her attention.

Slowly, her bags forgotten by the closed door, Isabelle approached the photos.

A father, a mother, a son and a daughter.

The beautiful Sauvage family as it once was.

Isabelle remembered the parents from her childhood. Then they died and Isabelle left France for Italy and then the States. She never really knew much about them after that. She wondered how the kids were doing.

Wondered how Raphaël was doing.

She never saw him for years, but she did hear that dear little Raphaël built an even bigger empire than his father. His reputation of business ruthlessness and his competitive streak were continuously explained to her by her maternal uncles in Italy who had heard all about his deals in Italy.

She ran a finger down a photograph of Raphaël. His thick brown hair worn collar length, a baseball bat in his hand.

He had always been such a handsome boy.

She ran a finger over his bright smile.

"Having fun?"

Isabelle jumped with fright and spun around, only to collide into the owner of the voice.

It was like running into a rock. She got shoved away by sudden impact, throwing her hands out wildly and seeking something to hold on to. When her desperate fingers found smooth, silky material, they held on tight.

Balance was restored.

And the awkwardness of the situation skyrocketed.

With her hanging onto the end of Raphaël's robe and with him standing there, hands behind his back, like she weighed no more than a chipmunk, the two stared at each other.

Until the sound of tearing silk split the air.

"Crap!" Isabelle muttered before the material ripped completely and she landed painfully on her bottom.

"Mummyyy!" she whined, then glared suddenly up at him. "Uh, ouch?! Couldn't you have caught me or something?"

Raphaël lifted an eyebrow, looking down at his torn robe, a large portion of his chest and abs visible. He looked at her, she who was glaring daggers at him.

"You have no manners, girl. I do not recall inviting you into my home. This," He pointed a finger at her. "...is called trespassing."

She narrowed her eyes in a deadly challenge. "You knew I was coming..."

Raphaël didn't answer. He was currently trying to match the face before him with that of the little girl he remembered. His eyes involuntarily travelled down her body, seeing her dress hiked up due to her fall and her jacket hanging off one creamy shoulder.

He could swear he'd never seen legs as long in all of France.

It made him think of sinful things.

And how disgusting of him. On the first meeting after years, too. Disgraceful!

He felt his lips part and immediately snapped his eyes back to her face. Only to find her still glaring at him.

Clearing his throat, he injected ice into his gaze, looking coldly at her.

"It can't be called trespassing, you knew I was coming," Isabelle repeated, her cheeks turning red.

Raphaël rolled his sleet grey eyes. "N'emporte quoi. Get off my floor and make yourself useful."

Her eyes narrowed even further as he started to walk away.

Well, how rude! He said she had no manners, but he behaved like this? This was the reception he gave guests?!

Only she wasn't a... guest. She was technically his servant for a week. Damn it.

"Oh, and uh... Isabella," Raphaël said suddenly, turning back to her. Isabelle found herself openly staring when he lifted his hand to his torn robe, undoing the belt and letting the silk slip off his powerful shoulders. Her throat was already dry at the mini strip tease, but it turned into sandpaper when he held the material out and dropped it onto her lap. "Make sure to go into town and get me a new robe. Silk. Black. "

With those last words, he turned and walked away, clad in only his black silk pajama bottoms.

Isabelle was still on the floor, staring.

Little Raphaël.

The man with the dark eyes, tousled hair and body sculpted by the gods was little Raphaël! How had Little Raphaël grown into that?!

Sure, he was only three years older than her twenty three, but fact remained that when they were younger, he was shorter than her.

She would still call him Little Raphaël, it didn't matter if he was bigger than her now. Dear Lord, he was much bigger. He was as big as a mountain.

"But that's not the point," Isabelle murmured to herself, eyes looking in shock at his butt.

He had a better butt than her.

In a flurry of rage, she flung the torn off piece of silk at his retreating back, only to have the flouncing material flutter ineffectively to the ground, not having made it even halfway to its destination.

And a big, arrogant destination it was too.

Sighing, she lifted herself off the floor. He didn't even help her up.

She rolled her eyes at his rudeness. She didn't know he was that way. She'd always seen him playing and laughing with his sister as kids. She'd thought he was nice!

She remembered those days when she wished they would call her to come and play with them, more specifically, with Raphaël. They never did.

They'd known she was there.

Usually when she'd poke her head out of the kitchen door, she'd see him and they'd stare at each other for a minute before she was called back into the kitchen by her aunt.

Those moments were special to her as a child. But oh, what nonsense.

She couldn't expect him to remember that and act like she was his long lost lover. She was the stand-in housekeeper, he was the boss.

And the first order of business was to get that chest of his and those abdominal muscles out of her head. Not to mention his butt which was better than hers!

Ugh. It would serve her well to forget, but damn it if she could ever close her eyes again without picturing honey or caramel dripping down that chest.

But anyway... back to real life.

He didn't even show her to her room, the cheek of him! Luckily she knew where it was.

On her way to the room her aunt usually used, something caught Isabelle's eye.

Her gaze snapped to a doorway. Nothing.

She could have sworn she saw something there.

She resumed walking, a little slower this time, and sure enough a small, dark figure once more appeared at the corner of her eye.

She spun around again and it was gone.

"Bloody hell," she muttered.

Wait...

Isabelle suddenly recalled her aunt mentioning a child. She hadn't heard most of what Aunt Rosa had said, having been too busy trying to figure out what was wrong with her broken car this time, but she remembered hearing something about a child. A little boy, to be exact!

Oh yes, that must be him. How could she have forgotten? He must've been playing a hide-and-go-seek of some sort.

A smile curved Isabelle's mouth as she continued to her room. She made a mental note to find him the second she put these bags down.

A sudden loud crash broke the silence.

Isabelle shrieked at the sound, feeling like her heart had exploded.

Half panicked, she abandoned her bags and turned to the place where the little boy had been hiding.

It came from somewhere there.

She hurried through the doorway and realized it was another wide corridor. Isabelle came to an immediate halt when she stepped into this corridor.

At the end, before a closed door, stood a beautiful little boy.

She smiled nervously. "Hey, buddy. You okay?"

With his dark, curly, brown hair unruly and his matching pizza slice pajamas, he looked absolutely adorable.

And being a sucker for adorable kids as they simply melted her heart, Isabelle was already moving towards him.

She swept her gaze over the remnants of a broken large vase and understood where the crash sound had come from. That wasn't what was worrying her though.

It was the look of tremendous fear in the child's eyes that was bothering Isabelle. His chubby little face was pale and his blue eyed were wide with guilt.

When he took a step back and two fat tears rolled down his cheeks, Isabelle stopped, her gut telling her something was wrong.

She held out a hand to him, feeling a sudden need to calm him. "Hey, it's okay, sweetie. Its just a vase."

Well, maybe it was an irreplaceable Sauvage treasure, but that was nothing for this poor baby to look so sad over. What's a bit of treasure anyway?

The kid didn't look like he was calming down at all. Isabelle wondered if it was okay to go closer to him. She should have paid attention when her aunt was telling her about him.

Suddenly, Raphaël appeared out of nowhere, his black tie hanging undone around his neck as he filled the doorway, staring at her.

For a second, her eyes roamed down his body. Yeah, that black shirt clung very well to his body. Very well indeed.

"What's going-" He stopped when his eyes landed on the boy.

Isabelle glanced worriedly at the child and then looked at Raphaël. "Little Raphaël... I think something's wrong with your son."

Raphaël hadn't heard Isabelle. He was too drawn into his own mind, staring at the child before him.

And it was a good thing too because, Isabelle reckoned, if he'd heard her call him Little Raphaël', it would probably have cost her the whole housekeeper job. And it wasn't even her job to begin with.

Turning back to face the child, she made up her mind. If Little Raphaël was too busy being weird, she'd have to do something.

Using her foot, Isabelle pushed aside the shards of marble lying between her and the child and began making her way carefully to him.

"What are you doing?" Raphaël uttered behind her. "Don't be a fool, girl. You'll hurt yourself as well as Rayan."

Isabelle smiled. Oh, Rayan. What a sweet name.

"Hello, Rayan," she called. "Come on over here." She stretched out her hand to the child, ignoring Raphaël's warning.

Rayan looked at her uncertainly, his cheeks still wet with his earlier tears of distress. He'd broken that huge vase when he was running away to hide from the strange lady and he was sure he was going to get a terrible beating from someone at any second now. If he stayed in this corner, maybe they wouldn't be able to get to him and he'd be safe.

Isabelle watched the child squeeze himself closer to the wall, shying away from her outstretched hand. She stopped moving towards him.

He blinked his big blue eyes up at her.

She tilted her head at him, giving him a soft smile before moving to him and carefully dropping to a crouch before the boy.

He flinched.

Isabelle's heart froze and her smile faltered. This was starting to give her a very bad feeling.

Restoring her smile, she placed her hand on the wall for support, the last thing she wanted was to lose her balance, fall and have a long shard of marble slice right up her ass.

In front of Raphaël! The embarrassment. Not to mention it would prove him right when he said she would hurt herself.

Blinking to clear the thought, she brought herself back to the moment.

When she raised her hand and he flinched again, Isabelle first inwardly frowned then felt hot fury burn up within her. Swallowing, she tried hard to not look angry to the child. He would misunderstand and think she was angry at him.

But the way he kept flinching was raising huge red flags and waving them in her face.

Her jaw clenched. If anybody had laid a hand on this precious baby, Isabelle was ready to simply skin them alive. Then pluck out their toenails and shove them down their throat.

She sighed, calming herself down. She leaned towards the boy and he widened his eyes, looking at her strangely. But he didn't flinch again.

"Hello," Isabelle said quietly. Rayan looked down at her mouth as she said the word, then brought his eyes back to hers.

"I'm Isabelle," she continued.

He stared silently at her face.

Pursing her lips, Isabelle tried anything she could, hoping it would work. "I need your help, Rayan," she started, not sure where she was going with it. "All these pieces on the floor are sharp and dangerous and we need to get away from them else they will hurt us, but I'm scared. I need you to help me be strong so the sharp pieces don't hurt us."

Rayan's eyes were immediately filled with doubt and confusion, but a little less fear.

He tilted his head slightly, thinking it over.

"Will you help me?" Isabelle whispered, her heart constricting in her chest.

A few seconds went by and she waited, then like a miracle Rayan nodded.

With a smile, Isabelle nodded back at him before pulling herself up.

Slowly, she stretched both her hands out to him and watched in plain amazement as he lifted his arms and allowed her to pick him up.

No wailing or screaming, how miraculous to Isabelle. This was a child who was being the opposite of bratty and noisy, which she more accustomed to, no lie.

Isabelle settled him gently against her, holding him up with an arm beneath his legs and the other wrapped around his back, securing him so he didn't fall.

He sat stiffly in her arms, fidgeting a little bit. Isabelle turned and began to make her way out of the mess on the floor and back towards Raphaël.

She looked at him with a triumphant smile, but he only stood there, gaping at her. His mouth was slightly open, a frown creasing his forehead, making a perfect single line between his eyebrows.

Isabelle sent a questioning look at him, but he only pursed his lips and looked down, barely looking at the child in her arms. The closer she got to him, the further away Raphaël turned, until he just walked away from both her and Rayan.

Isabelle stopped and frowned in the direction he'd gone.

His attitude left her puzzled. Why in the heck was the child behaving in such a timid, frightened manner? And what did Raphaël know about it to react in such a bizarre way?

And come to think of it... just who was little Rayan to Raphaël? Was he truly his son as Isabelle had allowed herself to believe?

Damn, what had Aunt Rosa said about the child? Isabelle hadn't heard a thing. Damn her mosquito-like attention span!

Anyway, all her questions were logical and Isabelle intended to find some logical answers to them.

And she'd be damned if the Mighty Sauvage would dismiss her queries with his assessing grey eyes and his cold, calm way of speaking which could easily make one feel stupid.

With a silent, solemn vow, Isabelle decided to get to the bottom of the matter.

She held the child closer.

"Why don't we go to the kitchen?" she asked, smiling at Rayan.

He looked curiously back at her and continued to stare at her all the way to the brightly lit kitchen.

Isabelle had always loved this kitchen. Though the house was beautiful and modern, the kitchen wasn't the cold tiles and stainless steel type she saw in the magazines. It rather had warm, dark wood and white granite.

Placing Rayan on the smooth kitchen counter, Isabelle stood back and put her hands on her hips.

"Let's get breakfast into you, hey? Pancakes?" she asked with an eyebrow raised.

Rayan's eyes widened a little bit.

Isabelle's smile faltered a little and she began to wonder at the boy's lack of speech.

"Rayan?" she called.

He looked down at his fiddling fingers suddenly, like she hadn't even called him.

Isabelle leaned against the counter as he continued fiddling with his fingers.

She looked curiously at him. "Would you like chocolate pancakes, sweetie?" she tried again.

His hands stilled for a moment and then resumed fiddling.

"Okay, let's get you fed first," Isabelle said in response to his silence.

Maybe he was like her. She also couldn't function for crap when she was hungry, much less answer questions from strange housekeepers.

She hurried about the familiar kitchen, pulling out ingredients and getting to work.

Isabelle had the bowl lodged between her hip and hand like a football when it suddenly started raining outside.

She turned around and smiled at the sky through the large kitchen windows.

"Yaay! Rain!" she cheered, like it was raining money instead of water. "Sunshine and chirping birds one moment, porous skies and dark clouds the next. I love it."

She turned back to Rayan who was watching her attentively, his hands clasped together between his knees.

"I love the rain," she informed him. "The sound is so soothing and-"

The sound of rain stopped.

Isabelle looked at the windows in shock. "Aw, what happened?" She stared at the sky. "What was that? You call that rain? Son of a b-" Looking at Rayan, she stopped the words on her tongue and smiled instead. "Ha-ha. Guess it won't be raining today."

And how annoying too. The rain makes Isabelle's entire day better and when it started to rain, her mood already started improving. Now the damn rain disappeared. She glared at the sky for a second, feeling like she just got click baited into a good mood. How spiteful.

She huffed, aggressively mixing the pancake batter in her bowl. "Bloody sky, acting all tough just cause you're up there and I can't get my hands on you, you pale blue piece of crap."

Rayan tilted his head and Isabelle froze, looking at him and the look he was giving her.

She cleared her throat. "Okay, child, I know what you're thinking. The answer is no. No, I'm not completely mad. Just a tad bit."

He remained silent, his blue eyes thoughtful.

She sighed and set down the bowl when he remained silent. On top of her rain disappearing, this dress was squeezing her around the middle and annoying her. She had to go and change. "Come, Rayan," she said.

She lifted him up, off the counter and onto a comfortable kitchen chair.

Placing a cup of orange juice in front of him, she ruffled his curly brown hair. "Be right back, sweetie."

She dashed out of the kitchen, looking back from the doorway to ensure that the boy wasn't already somersaulting on the counter.

Something told Isabelle that Rayan wouldn't do a single jumping jack on those polished counters, much less a somersault.

Still, she increased her speed just in case the thought of countertop somersaults did cross his mind.

Unfortunately, increase in her speed, plus her distracted mind, plus her looking down into cleavage and noticing increase in boob size - hooray! - equaled collision of woman with great wall of muscle.

"Oomf!" Isabelle let out as Raphaël held her at arm's length to steady her, a fresh frown on his face.

"You seem determined to constantly ram into me, Isabella," he said coldly, putting his hands in his pockets.

Isabelle nearly swallowed her tongue at his words, her mind putting a whole new spin on them, but she managed to lift her chin which only served to give Raphaël a better view at the blush creeping up her neck.

"You're mistaken, Sir. I'd as soon ram into a bull, I assure you. "

"Ah, is it? And seeing as you've rammed into me twice now... you don't mean to say you make it a habit of ramming into bulls, do you?" Raphaël asked crisply.

Isabelle scowled. Gosh, he was annoying. With his crisp and cold voice. If the freezer could talk, she could bet it would sound just like Raphaël!

His eyes narrowed when she stayed quiet, as though assessing the thoughts of her mind through her eyes. It was so nerve wrecking to have him staring at her like that.

For lack of a response, she stuttered, "D-did you know that head butting, Sir, is a common way to battle for dominance in the animal kingdom? The animal..."

"Spare me," Raphaël said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Isabelle bit down on her bottom lip to keep from telling him off and more importantly to keep the nervous talking in.

"I couldn't care less..." he continued. "...about what is done in the animal kingdom. Just don't find yourself butting heads with me too often. Clear?"

"Crystal. Sir," Isabelle muttered with just a pinch of sarcasm.

"Where is..." he hesitated. "Where is my nephew?"

Isabelle's brows reach for her hairline.

"Oh!" she exclaimed with a clap of the hands, much to Raphaël's annoyance. "I've been wondering how you're related. I just couldn't figure out..."

She immediately trailed off when the ice in his glare began to give her shivers, clearing her throat delicately. "He's in the kitchen, Sir."

"And you've left him alone? Unguarded?" Raphaël seemed to have just realized that if she was here then she wasn't with Rayan.

Isabelle inwardly pursed her lips.

"I'll be returning to him in a minute, Sir. As a matter of fact, I would have been back with him if it hadn't been for..." she shrugged. "I need to hurry, I don't want to leave Rayan alone for too long."

She began to walk away.

"Make it fast, Isabella," Raphaël snapped.

She turned to face him with an annoyed sigh.

"My name, Mr. Sauvage, is Isabelle, E double L, E. I don't know where you're getting the 'ella' from..."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Isabelle, E double L, E. Just get a damn move on."

With those final, and in Isabelle's opinion, very rude words, he started stalking away from her.

She bit her lip in fury, glaring at the back of his perfect, thick brown hair. "What an annoying jerk!"

Raphaël stopped walking.

Isabelle's heart stopped beating.

He turned around and stared at her, his gaze piercing through her like daggers. "What did you just say?"