Revealing Us (Inside Out #3)(58)

“Would we like to sit down?” Chris asks, as if Neuville had ofered. “Absolutely.”

I ight a smirk as Chris’s hand settles on my back, urging me to the table where he sits at the end, opposite Neuville. I sit at Chris’s left.

Chris and Neuville lock eyes, and the air thickens as they prepare to match swords.





Nineteen


“Where’s Ella?”

I blanch to ind the piercing stare Neuville had been aiming at Chris suddenly directed at me.

“Why are you looking for her?” Chris asks before I can reply.

“Ella and I were”—he pauses for obvious efect—“involved.

I moved too fast for her and she got spooked. She took of and I haven’t seen her since.”

The many ways I can read “involved” set my nerves further on edge. The idea of this man playing dominant to Ella is not a good one. “What does you ‘moved too fast’ mean?”

He arches a brow at me, looking rather smug. “Do you really want the gritty details?”

Yes! I scream in my head, and then amend my answer to No! I might come unglued if I heard details. “I just want to know where Ella is.” I don’t try to keep the bite from my voice.



“Then we have something in common, Ms. McMillan,” he drawls.

“You’ve been quick with your answers,” Chris comments.

“Some might think you planned them in advance.”

“Others might simply say I’m telling the truth,” Neuville responds.

Chris doesn’t miss a beat. “I guess it depends on how much that person knows about you.”

Neuville arches his brow again, this time at Chris. “What exactly do you think you know about me?”

“More than who you like to f*ck,” Chris replies, and I barely hold back a gasp. “When did you last see Ella?”

“A week ago,” Neuville says, as if Chris hadn’t said anything unexpected at all. “I’ve been looking for her ever since, and, naturally, when I discovered her best friend was arriving in Paris, I assumed it was to be with her. I have yet to ind that to be the case.”

“Why not ask Sara through me, rather than have her followed?” Chris asks.

“I didn’t know you were involved until I had her followed,”

is his rebuttal.

Chris doesn’t look impressed by that answer. “And yet you didn’t call me when you found out.”

I want to ask about my stolen wallet and passport, but I hold back. It’s not like the content is valid anymore, and Neuville is drumming his ingers on the table, irritation radiating of of him. “For the same reason you didn’t just call me on the phone tonight. You didn’t want me to escape before I heard you out. The same applies to me with Ella.”

This answer has my attention. I do not like his use of the word escape, any more than I like remembering how enthralled Ella was by Rebecca’s journals and the idea of a Master. If this man opened Ella up to one potential Master, could she be with another man now who might be dangerous?

I open my mouth to speak and Chris steals my question from my lips. “What happened to Ella’s iancé?”

Neuville snorts. “If you mean the idiot who’d upset her the night I met her, I have no clue.”

“Where exactly did you meet Ella?” I quickly ask.

Neuville licks me a look. “I was in her hotel on business.”

Chris jumps on that. “What hotel?”

Again, no hesitation from Neuville as he replies, “H?tel Lutetia.”

Chris frowns. “Her doctor iancé could aford H?tel Lutetia?”

Neuville shrugs. “I have no intimate understanding of this man’s wealth or lack thereof. I was in the lobby when Ella exited the elevator in tears and ran smack into me. She was upset, and I ofered to buy her dinner at a nearby restaurant. When we returned to the hotel, her iancé had checked out and left her with no money and no passport.”

My jaw drops. “What? He took her passport?”

“He did,” Neuville conirms. “As you can imagine, she was devastated about the entire situation. I ofered to have her stay with me and she accepted.”

This doesn’t sound like the Ella I know—but then, the Ella I know would have called me weeks ago, too. “She just said ‘yes’

to staying with a stranger?”



“I don’t believe she saw me as a stranger, Ms. McMillan.”

His lips twitch.

Something in his expression sets me of. I lean forward, one of my hands resting on the table, my blood pressure probably of the charts. “You’re saying she slept with you when she thought David was waiting for her at the hotel?”

“I wasn’t aware I said she slept with me,” he replies. “Simply that we became fast friends.”

“You implied more.” My tone is biting.

“You assumed.” His tone is crisp.

Chris takes control of the conversation again. “She was with you how long?”

“Three weeks,” Neuville replies.

I narrow my eyes on this stranger who wants me to believe Ella to be someone I know her not to be. It doesn’t sit well with me. He doesn’t sit well with me. Why isn’t he complaining about all of the questions? Maybe Chris is right. He practiced.