Read Online Fallen by Kelley R. Martin - Free Book Online Page A

myself. 
    Four thousand euros for a flippin’ dress? Was he crazy?
    I didn’t know the exact exchange ratio between euros and dollars, but they weren’t too far off. Not like pesos or yen.
    “I almost forgot.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys and a black credit card. “These go to my Mercedes downstairs in the garage. There’s a house key on there as well,” he said as he handed everything over. “The card has no limit, so knock yourself out.”
    Staring at the shiny card in my hand, I ran my thumb over the raised EMILY NORTHAM on the bottom.
    I couldn’t accept this. Not the card, the car, or the closet-full of haute couture. It was too much. Way too much.
    I shook my head and handed the stuff back to Gabriel. “I can’t take this.”
    He frowned. “Why not?”
    “You’ve already done so much for me. I can’t in good conscience take your money too.”
    The corner of his mouth lifted up into a half-smirk. “Okay then, how will you pay for things?”
    I shrugged and put the dress back. “I’ll get a job.” I pictured myself working as a waitress in a café, serving espresso to people wearing berets and red scarves around their necks. Across the cobblestone street was a bakery, the scent of French bread and coffee mixing in the air—
    “Parlez-vous français?”
    Gabriel’s voice interrupted my fantasy, and I stared at him. “Come again?”
    The other corner of his mouth lifted up, forming a full-on smirk. “How’re you gonna get a job when you don’t speak the language?”
    Dang it, I hadn’t thought of that. Well, shit.
    Stupid Gabriel and his smug face…
    Feeling defiant, I stuck my chin out and said, “I’ll learn.”
    “And until you do, you can use this.” He punctuated each word as he stuck the card back in my hand, that smartass “I told you so” look still plastered on his face.
    I crossed my arms, the card digging into my palm as my jaw twitched. I wanted to smack the look right off his face. “What about the clothes? I could get by with less than a third of what’s here.”
    “The clothes stay. All of them.” He turned and started walking out. “I’ll let you get settled. Let me know if you need anything.” And just like that, he was gone.
     
    An hour later, I stepped out of the bathtub and grabbed a fluffy white robe, wincing as I pulled it around my shoulders. I hadn’t bathed since the— incident —at the store, and then I’d been on a plane all day long, so I felt gross and dirty. And in my zealous attempt to get clean, I’d scrubbed damn near every inch of myself raw.
    After I clipped up my wet hair, I went in search of something to wear. I thumbed through the racks of clothes, still amazed that I had all this at my disposal. And whoever picked out all this stuff had a real eye for fashion.
    I grabbed some yoga pants and a vintage-looking t-shirt, but I couldn’t find any underwear for the life of me. Remembering the dresser in my room, I turned off the light and shut the closet door before heading for it.
    Inside the top drawer, black, white, nude, and pale pink scraps of lace sat neatly folded. They all looked tiny and sheer. I think they were supposed to be bras and panties. I picked up a bra—a black lacy thing—and frowned. This wasn’t underwear. It was lingerie . 
    Most of the tag was in French, but I could read the price. A hundred and seventy-five euros. For a bra. 
    A hundred and seventy-five bucks, and I bet he didn’t even get the size right , I thought as I checked the inside tag. 
    Hmm. The sizing was European, so I had no idea if it was right or not.
    I tossed it back in the drawer and picked up the matching lace panties, or I guess what the French called panties. It looked more like floss to me. 
    The drawer next to it had more lace…and silk. These pieces looked bigger.
    What the —
    My eyes bulged as I pulled out the black lace and silk number on top. It was a teddy. Or what was left of a teddy after someone took