“What the hell are you doing here?” he gritted out; at the same time he yanked her roughly into his arms and hugged her fiercely. With his lips at her ear, he whispered hoarsely, “God, I’ve missed you so much.”
“Uh, you folks gotta sit on opposite sides of that table there,” the guard informed them. “No huggin’ or nothin’ allowed. Prison rules.”
They separated, reluctantly, but not before Luc gave her a quick, wonderful kiss on the lips. Joy rushed through Sylvie as she sat down, as instructed, though she was still confused by his angry expression.
“Leave us alone for a few minutes,” Luc instructed the guard.
Surprisingly, the guard nodded. “The paperwork’s being prepared for your release anyhow.”
Luc scowled at him, then at her. “Where did you get $500,000?”
“From… from the bank,” she stuttered out. You’d think he would be glad she’d obtained his release. Instead, he acted as if she’d performed some criminal act.
Her answer clearly astonished him. When he finally shut his gaping mouth, he asked, “You have $500,000 in the bank?”
“I have more than that, Luc. A trust fund passed down through generations of Breaux women. Why? Does it matter?”
“Hell, yes, it matters. I have a thousand in savings, if that.”
“So what?” She’d come here to secure his release, not take abuse because her bank account was larger than his.
“You should not have posted bond for me without my permission,” he berated her.
“What? Are you a flight risk or something?”
“Or something,” he growled.
She stood abruptly and slammed her purse on the table between them. “You ungrateful slob. Why don’t I go out to the desk and take back my check? You can sit here till the cows come home for all I care.” She hated the tearful break in her voice that betrayed how hurt she was.
Luc reached across the table and put a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back gently to her seat. “I’m sorry if I was abrupt, Sylv. I guess I’m a little… uh, tense.”
“Don’t take your bad moods out on me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled at her.
“And don’t smile at me, either.”
“Why? Because my smiles make you breathless?”
“Oh, it’s just like you to rub in my own foolish admissions. No, your smiles don’t make me breathless… not anymore. They make me angry.”
“You’re pretty when you’re angry.”
“Ooooh, be forewarned, Luc. I’m about to belt you with my purse, and it’s really heavy since I just came from the bank.”
“What? You’ve got another $500,000 in your purse?” he asked with mock horror.
“This conversation is going nowhere fast. I came down here to spring you. Well, you’re sprung. I’m out of here.”
“Uh… just a minute, Sylv. I’ve been thinking.”
She forced herself to smile.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because you’ve been thinking.”
“That was mean, Sylv. Not like you at all.”
“Maybe you don’t know me.”
He glanced nervously at the large mirror on the wall, which was presumably a two-way glass. “This is the thing, Sylv.” He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself. “I don’t think you and I should see each other anymore… or for a while, anyway. We need to give it a rest… and… ummm, think things over. Slow down a bit.”
Sylvie gasped and put a palm over her heart, which was splintering apart at his words.
“I should have known this would happen. A one-night stand, that’s all we shared, right?”
He looked as if he’d like to speak, but held himself back after staring pointedly at the mirror, then at her.
“Well, I don’t know what I expected,” she went on. “The love potion was bound to wear off eventually. The fact that it did so earlier than I expected is disappointing, but the end result would have been the same. All I represent to the great Lucien LeDeux is a good lay… if that.”
“Sylvie, you can’t really believe that.” His body gestures were nervous as he squirmed under the presumed watchful eye of the police.
“Can’t I?” She didn’t care who overheard their conversation as she waited for a further explanation from Luc. When none was forthcoming, she felt she’d been given her answer.