Sweet Talker

By Robin Bielman

He likes to be in control…

It’s like this: I’m the hottest restauranteur on the west coast. I work hard, play hard, and love my family. I’m also the guy on the receiving end of some unwelcome threats and fixation. Then Pascale Nichols walks back into my life, and I forget about everything but her. They say lightening never strikes twice, but she’s the one that got away. She’s also, I soon discover, the one my family secretly hired to protect me. Am I mad? Hell, yes. Am I game to play along? You bet.

She’s in over her head…

Everyone knows and loves Ethan Auprince. With his sexy-as-sin dimples and crazy likeability, he’s always the center of attention. I’ve been tasked with protecting celebrities, bigwigs, and high-ranking officials, but when I come face-to-face with the man I spent one incredible summer with, I’m in trouble. A careless mistake on my last assignment cost me, and now Ethan is looking at me like he wants to devour me, not cooperate with my subtle instructions while I work under the guise of his restaurant manager.

My reputation is at risk. His safety is on the line. But worse, we're falling in love again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tule Publishing
• Release date: Sep 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9781950510566

Robin Bielman

Robin Bielman is the USA Today bestselling author of over twenty novels. When not attached to her laptop, she loves to read, go to the beach, frequent coffee shops (and by frequent she means daily but she's trying to break the habit), and spend time with her family and friends. Her fondness for swoon-worthy heroes who flirt and stumble upon the girl they can’t live without jumpstarts most of her story ideas. She writes with a steady stream of caffeine nearby (see above) and the best dog on the planet, Harry, by her side. She also dreams of traveling to faraway places and loves to connect with readers.

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Acknowledgments

Huge thanks to the Tule team: Meghan, Jenny, Cyndi, Nikki, Jane, Lee, Marlene, my awesome editor, Sinclair, and my amazing copy editor, Helena. I’m so grateful for everything you gals do! xoxo

Big hugs and thanks to all of you wonderful readers, bloggers, and Instagrammers for taking the time to read my stories and review or mention them. Your support and kind words are appreciated more than I can say.

Thank you Dani, for your incredible help over the years. I’d be lost without you!

And to my family, thank you so much for being on this journey with me. I love you!

Chapter One

We Meet Again

Ethan

"Who is the brunette?" I say to my brother, voicing my curiosity instead of waiting for an official introduction.

Where? Drew asks. It’s a legit question considering there are over a dozen brunettes in the restaurant, tonight’s private goodbye party for my manager filled with friends, family, and staff.

At the bar. I lift my chin in her direction. Hair piled on top of her head in classy disarray. Long, slim neck. Off-the-shoulder black top revealing smooth tanned skin. For some inexplicable reason, my eyes keep landing on her.

The one talking to Charlotte?

Yes.

How should I know? Her back is to us. He places his palm between my shoulder blades. There is this thing called introducing yourself, you know.

I snicker. I own this restaurant and everyone in this room knows who I am. People come to me when I’m inside these four walls. I’ve worked hard to earn the reputation as the hottest restaurateur on the West Coast. A slew of publications rank me at the top of their Most Influential lists. All the exposure makes it easy to connect with any woman I want, usually at the snap of my fingers. Not that I’d make a rude gesture like that. I flash my killer dimples instead. The point is, we’re an hour into this party and I’ve yet to make eye contact with the brunette at the bar.

Oh, that’s right, Drew says. Everyone who walks in the door of Royal already knows you.

Hey, Ethan, a pretty twenty-something woman says, proving my unsaid point.

Hey, Ethan, her attractive friend mimics as they walk by, only this woman tilts her head and adds a sway to her hips that says, I’m all yours later, if you want. The only reason she doesn’t give the same hello to my younger brother is because he’s already been with her. A few months back. Humane Society charity event at my family’s downtown hotel.

I give a small smile to be polite, nothing more. She doesn’t seriously think she has a chance with me after being with my brother, does she? Drew and I share a lot, but women are not on that list.

Besides—my gaze falls back on the sexy curve of the brunette’s neck—I’m tired as hell, having just flown back to LA from a week-long trip to Vegas where I’m opening another restaurant. When I wasn’t working, I was playing. In the casinos, in the clubs, in private dining rooms. After-hours fun took the place of sleep. When I get home later, I may fall into bed in my clothes. That’s not true. I pull at the collar of my light blue classic-fit shirt. I don’t wrinkle my Armani, and I like to be naked when I slip between my Italian bed sheets. Alone or otherwise, and lately it’s been the former.

Which must explain my fascination with the brunette.

The place isn’t going to be the same without Charlotte, Drew says, reining in my wayward thoughts.

No. Charlotte’s been my manager since we opened three years ago and I’m sorry to see her go. Damn boyfriend and his taking her to Vancouver with him.

Yeah, sucks to be him. New job. Hot girlfriend.

Whatever, I say because I’m exhausted and okay, slightly pissed she’s leaving. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy for her—them—but I’m pretty sure my new manager won’t come even close to matching Charlotte’s level of competency and affability. I say pretty sure because I haven’t met her yet. Charlotte hired her while I was gone this past week.

Your new manager starts tomorrow. Statement, not a question. Leave it to Drew to know my schedule.

Yeah.

Word of advice? He pats my back again. My baby brother likes to think he knows it all. Sound at least somewhat happy she’s here.

How do you know it’s a she?

A split-second expression of panic crosses his face before it disappears and I wonder if my tired eyes are playing a trick on me. Charlotte mentioned it earlier.

Charlotte mentioned what earlier? the woman herself asks, coming to a stop in front of us.

Your replacement is female, Drew says.

And amazing, Charlotte adds. Are you free to meet her now, Ethan?

Sure.

A sudden crash sounds from the kitchen. Actually, give me a minute, I tell Charlotte as I step around her.

Want me to—

I raise my hand to cut her off. I’ve got this. Enjoy your party. Thankfully, no one else seems to have heard the noise, or if they did, they’ve chosen to ignore it. I pass the brunette—a light scent of vanilla and raspberries hitting my nose—walk around the bar, and step through the swinging door into the kitchen. What I see sends dread through me. It seems my stalker has struck again.

Not a stalker. Someone who wants to mess with me, is all. But my family thinks differently and their concern is reaching irritating proportions. I get that I come from a prominent family, which makes me a bigger target than someone less famous, but these childish antics are nothing more than that. Juvenile attempts to get my attention.

And I refuse to give them merit.

This time, a box of wine has hit the floor, red liquid splattered across the clear-stained concrete. More pressing is the broken glass. I don’t want anyone to step on it.

And then there’s the snake.

Yes, I said snake. Slithering slowly away from the kitchen staff huddled in the corner. I know I’m tired, but I swear the reptile is purposely darting his tongue out to lap up the Napa Valley wine on his way to an escape.

Is everyone okay? I ask.

A round of yes rings out, followed by: I’m sorry. When I opened the box, the snake was right there and I freaked out.

Understandable. Thankfully, the snake isn’t rattling, and if I remember my days of exploring nature with my brothers when we were young correctly, this is simply a harmless garter snake.

To be on the safe side, I grab a pair of tongs off the stainless-steel worktable and give our unwelcome friend a lift toward the exit. He casually wriggles in the air while one or two of my staff squeaks. I open the door to the alley, unsure what to do, when I see an empty crate near the dumpster. Perfect. I secure the snake inside the container—tongs included—then return to the kitchen where cleanup has already begun. Will someone please give animal control a call to let them know the snake is inside a crate outside?

On it, my sous chef says, wiping his hands down his apron and pulling his phone from his back pocket.

Thanks. I check over the platters of food about to be carried out, grateful they weren’t contaminated. The dropped wine doesn’t bother me. Some person who’s targeted me for a reason I can’t figure out doesn’t bother me either. What troubles me is keeping the people in my employ—people I care about—out of harm’s way. I want a safe environment in which my employees can work and my guests can dine.

I don’t want anyone at Royal worried about their safety.

You guys good? I ask. My chef, Louis, is already head down, back to business. The rest of my staff nods and waves me off.

My mind eased, I take backward steps to leave the kitchen. And bump right into someone as I turn around in the hallway. Someone soft. Warm. Smells like vanilla and raspberries.

Sorry, she says.

I’m momentarily stunned, eyes the color of Castelvetrano olives, but with a dirtier green ring around her pupils, finally meeting mine.

No, I’m sorry. I’m the one who wasn’t watching where he was going.

True. Full pink lips turn up at the corners.

Wow, this woman is even more attractive face-to-face than I imagined. A dainty nose slightly sloped at the tip, high cheekbones, delicate chin, all framed by loose tendrils of hair more copper than brown under the ceiling lights.

Did I say attractive? She’s stunning.

There’s also something familiar about her, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. Looking at her gives me the feeling of balmy breezes in Hawaii, sand between my toes and the ocean splashing my feet. She’s staring at me like the same awareness is running through her head.

I was, uh, just on my way to the ladies’ room. She glances over my shoulder.

I step out of her way. She moves on and I lean against the wall to wait for her return. Our conversation isn’t over, not by a long shot. I cross one ankle over the other. Put a hand in the pocket of my slacks.

Talk and laughter fill the main room, and normally I’d be back in the middle of it, exuding my usual charm, but I can’t get my feet to move from the confines of the partially hidden hallway. A minute ago, it was the snake thing digging under my skin.

Now it’s the woman I’m anxious to learn more about.

She exits the restroom a minute later and falters when our eyes meet. You waited for me? she asks.

I thought we should talk.

About what? She leans a hip against the wall, close, but not too close. She’s tall, standing only a couple of inches below my six foot one. I do a quick perusal down her body. The blouse is paired with painted-on jeans and knee-high black boots with a flat heel.

Your name for starters.

You…you want to know my name? she stutters, confusing me. The stammer implies she’s nervous, but her tone suggests she’s annoyed.

Shit. I should know it, shouldn’t I?

She shakes off whatever unpleasantness my ignorance caused by drawing in a quick breath and giving a slight shake of her head. ‘Should’ is one of those words that can get someone in a lot of trouble.

True. But there’s different kinds of trouble.

What kind are you?

The good kind. I lift away from the wall and turn to give her the up-close, full-frontal effect that is Ethan Auprince. Of course, it’s more powerful without clothes on, but one swipe of my hand through my thick brown hair has been known to make a woman weak in the knees.

She nods. Of course, you would think that. Then, Oh my God, are you trying to impress me with that move?

I drop my arm so fast, my shoulder nearly pops out of its socket. What is this woman doing to me?

Laughing. That’s what she’s doing. It’s a lively sound that takes hold of her face and body and fuck me if it doesn’t make her sexier. Or maybe it’s the fact I have zero impact on this woman that makes her so appealing.

I’m sorry, she says, covering her mouth with her hand. I didn’t mean to laugh at you. Two rings adorn her middle finger, both silver with writing etched in them.

No worries. I need to get back to the party. Before she sees the hit to my ego.

Ethan. She puts her hand on my arm to stay me.

Two things buzz through me. She knows my name. No real surprise there, but my ego rebounds nonetheless. What does shock me, however, is the sound of it on her lips. The way she says Ethan sends a weird sensation to my chest.

I look at her, once again puzzled by some unnamed connection. I’m about to do something foolish, like ask her to get out of here with me, when Charlotte bounds over with a satisfied grin on her face. Charlotte doesn’t normally bounce, so she’s definitely enjoying the libations this evening.

Finally, you two meet, she says.

I clear my throat. Actually, we haven’t been properly introduced.

Properly, Charlotte repeats, as if she doesn’t understand what I mean. Oh! Right. You just bumped into each other on the way to the loo, then.

My former manager has most definitely downed a few drinks. She’s from San Diego, not across the pond.

Ethan, meet your new manager, Charlotte says.

Is that why she’s so familiar? Charlotte sang her praises to me over the telephone and I must have conjured up an accurate likeness. I’m relieved to put an end to the mystery.

Hi, my new manager says.

Hi, I respond, tucking away any impure thoughts toward her.

She’s not officially on the clock until tomorrow, so come on, Pascale, there’s one more person I want to introduce you to.

Pascale?

I put my hand on the wall to steady myself. They say lightning never strikes twice in the same place, but I’m here to prove them wrong.

Pascale. My Pascale.

Is back in my life.

All of a sudden, my heart doesn’t know what to do with itself. Speed up. Slow down. Slug its way out of my chest so she can see I still have one. I’ve thought about her so many times over the years, but never imagined she’d be in my restaurant.

Our eyes lock before Charlotte tugs her away, a good thing because I no longer know what to say to her.

I can’t believe I didn’t realize it was her. To my credit, ten years ago her hair was blond instead of brown. She wore it curly, rather than straight. She was curvier. Less polished. She smelled like coconut oil not vanilla and raspberries. Her nose was different, too, like completely different. That’s what really threw me. Her face has changed, but she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

Why didn’t she tell me who she was?

And why in the world did she take this job? With me.

I watch her across the crowded room. She carries herself with ease. Is quick to smile. To gesture while she talks. The group of people surrounding her is captivated. Which is part of the reason Charlotte hired her. She’s enchanting, Charlotte had said.

When I met Pascale, she was barely an adult at nineteen. I was a new college grad at twenty-two. We ran into each other—literally—on the beach in Hawaii and spent an incredible summer together. For the first time in my life, I was in love. Pascale Nichols was everything to me.

Including the only woman to break my heart.

Chapter Two

Everything About You

Pascale

I screwed up, plays over and over again in my head.

I screwed up thinking I wouldn’t be affected by seeing Ethan again. Not that he had any real impact on me. Unless you count feeling like you’ve been struck by starlight or some other such nonsense. Which I wasn’t. It was just weird for me not to say, Hi, Ethan, it’s me Pascale, and I’m your new manager.

Because you’re not honestly his manager.

Keep your focus, my sadistic trainer orders, reminding me I need to concentrate on our workout. Left jab, right cross, back roundhouse kick. Left jab, right cross, back roundhouse… he continues. I repeatedly punch and kick the thick pads on his forearms, trying hard to get him to sway at least a little. My hands are sweaty inside my boxing gloves. My T-shirt is damp.

Right jab, left cross, back leg knee lift, he instructs next. There’s a delighted cadence to his delivery, like he thinks Monday mornings at nine o’clock are happy hour.

They so are not, but I comply. A million times. Different punches, different kicks, until thank the heavens our time is up. I wipe the perspiration off my forehead. Catch my breath. Removing my gloves, I thank Dax for kicking my ass. He says he’ll see me tomorrow for weight lifting and moves on to his next victim. I mean client.

Water never tasted so good as I empty my bottle. Dax knows how to get a body in shape, but my muscles are too exhausted and my throat still too parched to appreciate his expertise at the moment.

This is what happens when you take time off to lick your wounds.

A few familiar faces nod or smile as I make my way through the private gym to the locker room. Whenever I’m in LA, this is usually where I start my weekdays, and despite my grumbling, I’m happy to be here.

Happy to be home.

After my epic mishandling of my last assignment, I’ve been given a second chance and I’m not going to blow it.

I undress at my locker, wrap a towel around myself, and then enter the steam room to decompress before I shower. I’ve just gotten comfortable and closed my eyes when the woman shrouded in steam at the other end of the wooden bench says, Morning, sunshine.

Good morning, I say extra-cheerfully. I’m not a morning person, but I can fake it with the best of them. Serenity is no doubt shaking her head at my perky reply. She’s not only my boss, but one of my closest friends. She also thinks she can sneak up on me, but it never works. I caught a whiff of her rosemary mint soap outside the door.

You ready for today? she asks.

Yes.

You forgot to text me last night.

I forgot my own name last night when I locked eyes with Ethan. Periwinkle blue, they were more dazzling than they were ten years ago. Everything about Ethan was more than it was the summer we’d spent together. And that’s saying a lot considering I’d fallen hard and fast for his humor, confidence and sexy dimples. We’d literally bumped into each other on a Maui beach in front of the restaurant I was working at during my school vacation. He’d been diving for a football. I was lunging for a Frisbee. I’ll never forget the first words he said to me: Crash here often? I’d laughed and a few hours later he’d sweet-talked me right out of my bikini and into his bed.

Serenity knows about my past with Ethan. His family does not. I’m not sure that would have made a difference in them secretly hiring me to protect him, though. My last detail aside, my reputation as one of the best female bodyguards in the business precedes me.

Sorry, I say.

I can pull you and put someone else on the assignment.

I open my eyes to find Serenity has moved beside me. No, you can’t. For one, I’ve already been introduced as Royal’s new manager. And two, Liza Auprince asked for me specifically and someone as influential and renowned as she is gets what she wants.

You’ve also been intimate with the client.

A long time ago.

Time doesn’t always erase feelings.

Okay, fine. It was harder to see Ethan than I thought it would be, but when he didn’t recognize me, I quickly got over any sentiment. I take a deep breath, let it out slowly. Not because of emotions, I lie to myself, but to further relax my post-workout body. I can’t really fault Ethan for not remembering me. I have changed. Inside and out.

I can do this job, I continue. And do it well.

I know you can, but I’m not sure it was fair of me to put you in this position given what happened with Grant and—

We said we’d never speak his name again.

Pascale, she says in her we’re-friends-not-co-workers voice.

This is the perfect job for me right now and you know it. The threat to Ethan isn’t high, I love being in a restaurant environment, and now I can water my plants in person. I bump her shoulder with mine. The worst thing about this is I have to lie to him.

I work for Serenity Security, a prestigious executive protection agency Serenity’s father started over two decades ago. We’re the go-to for female bodyguards, dispelling the notion that executive protection is exclusively a boys’ club. Quite the contrary. Women are actually more suited for the work for various reasons, one being we can blend in with little effort. It’s easy for a woman to assume the role of nanny, tutor, childhood friend, or in my case, restaurant manager. Sheer size isn’t enough to stop a dangerous situation anymore. Our company’s motto is brains over brawn. Don’t let my lean body fool you, though. I can rip someone’s heart out as fast as I can steal it.

"You’re not lying, just withholding certain information. Per his family’s request, mind you, so you

Reviews for Sweet Talker

[nelispelusa · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I didn't think this one was as good as the first one in series. This was Ethan Auprince books, he is the older brother of the Auprince's clan, there are three supposedly hot brothers, I hope you started with the first book which was Finn's and Chloe's and as I mentioned already I definitely liked that book more. In this book we get reintroduced to Ethan, who is being stalked by someone and he is not taking it seriously he sees it as harmless, however his family takes it more seriously and hires a body guard for him without his knowledge and that is where Pascalle enters who just so happens to be his ex, who had ghosted him about a decade ago. Pascalle apparently ghosted him because her best friend had been murdered by a stalker. These two get reacquainted and still have feelings for each other which Pascalle is determined to fight. She also had a previous problem with a job she had and she is determined not do so again. I just found the book too, I can't even find the right word but the meaning is like too tied up too nicely-example she gets into being a body guard since her friend was murdered, I got that but coincidentally she ends up being her lost loves bodyguard- yeah no.. Then we meet the stalker really early on and we knew who it was, also too coincidental, and then how she ended up with Ryle.. So I wasn't really happy with book I found it to cheesy, and I really hope that Drew's is better than this one. What saved it for me was the rest of the clan.rcvd an ARc at no cost to author..(netgalley) Voluntarily reviewed with my own thoughts and opinions