Page 102 of Bossy Wicked Prince

But Nate obviously planned the evening with meticulous detail, and it’s all too romantic to fully buy it as a business trip. The pink flowers, the Eiffel Tower view, the new coat—Nate chose everything specifically for me.

And there it is.

I feel silly that I didn’t see it before.

“We’re not here because you have meetings for UPS, are we?” I ask quietly.

Nate takes a long sip of his champagne and then sets it down, straightening in his chair. “No. We have no meetings on the calendar.”

“So you lied to me? Why tell me it’s for work? So I’d feel like Ihadto go?”

“God, no,” he says, looking at me with shock. “I wanted to surprise you. This was supposed to be nice.”

Nice?

“Then why do I feel like you tricked me?”

The door opens and we both shut our mouths. The chef, an older man in a white coat andRatatouillechef’s hat, approaches our table with a silver tray of food. He places two dishes in front of us.

“For your first course, I have bacon, gruyere, and roasted onion tarts paired with a 2021 Beajoulais,” he says in a heavily accented voice.

“Merci,” I tell him as he unscrews the bottle and pours wine into a fresh set of glasses.

Once we’re alone again, I whirl on Nate. “Why are we really here, Nate?”

There’s no way he came here for no other reason than to surprise me.

“Because of your Eiffel Tower statue,” he says and my jaw drops.

“Your Pont Alexandre III computer background,” he continues. “The lock screen of the Louvre on your phone. It’s your dream to go to Paris. I’m just sorry I could only get away for a few days. It’s hardly enough time to see the city properly.”

I gape at him. I know I should be thrilled. It’s a big, romantic gesture from a man who speaks with actions, not words. He might as well be announcing his intentions—this thing between us, it’s more than just sex. It’s something bigger, maybe even bordering on a real relationship.

This…this isn’t something you do for someone you don’t want to commit to, is it?

Oh god. I can’t breathe.

I take a swallow of the red wine to settle my nerves, but it’s all just too much.

It’swaytoo much, especially to waste on me. I’m turning all my guilt and shame into anger, and I’m hurling it all at Nate. I know I’m being unreasonable, but I can’t seem to stop it.

He lied to you!It’s Pippa’s voice in my head again, and she’s right.

And he’s being ridiculously frivolous with his wealth when he could be putting it to good use.

And did I mention heliedto you.

Even as I’m scowling at him, Nate looks completely calm. His eyes don’t leave mine. “I wanted to take you away from the bad press and let you have something you dreamed of. Why does that make you so angry?”

“Because it’s wasteful!” I sputter. “If you wanted to take me to Paris, we could have flown commercial and done an apartment swap. I didn’t need the private jet and the luxury hotel. I didn’t need this whole restaurant! With all the money you spent on me, you could probably open a brand-new shelter, never mind just keeping mine running. There are people who need your money, and I’m not one of them, Nate! I don’t need…” I wave a hand around. “Allthis. I just want you.”

And there it is. Cards on the table.

His gray eyes search mine, looking for the truth in them like he wants to verify my words against the original ledger. “You do?”

I heave a sigh. “God, of course I do.”

And I know everything else I said was pretty unreasonable. Nate donates plenty to charity—I’ve seen the tax receipts myself. But still…this is just…