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Chapter Twenty-Four

Roman

I glance down at my watch. We’re probably going to land in the next half hour.

I’ve been watching Eva sleep across from me for far too long. Her eyelids flutter quickly every so often. I wonder if she’s dreaming.

It occurred to me about an hour ago that something has got to give. I need to figure out if I can move past the feelings that have haunted me for years. Ones that tell me love isn’t real. That I’m just like my father and I’ll eventually stray, ruining my family.

Because if I can’t, I need to end this.

It’s not fair of me to lead us down this path where hearts get broken. Hearts, plural, because I’d be lying if I said my own heart wasn’t at risk.

Suddenly, the pilot’s voice comes over the intercom, announcing that we are now descending.

Eva’s eyes open slowly. She looks around, appearing slightly disoriented.

The corner of my mouth rises into a smirk. “We’re descending. Should be on the ground in fifteen minutes.”

She sits up quickly. “Wow. Flying in a private jet is so much more comfortable,” she says as she brings her seat back up. “It feels like we just left.”

“I’m glad you feel that way. I’d have to say, I agree with you.”

After we land, the car takes us directly to the front of the hotel, where staff is waiting.

The moment I open the car door we are greeted by the staff at the hotel.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Bertini. My name is Matis. I am here to assist you with anything you might require during your stay. Welcome back to Paris.”

I nod my head at Matis. “Thank you, Matis. This is Eva Harlow.”

When I had Dorothy set up the trip, I instructed her to make sure Eva had the room below the penthouse, where I’d be staying. Though I have no intention of her using that room.

Matis takes our luggage out of the trunk of the car and begins to load it on the cart. I walk up to him and lean down to be discreet.

“You can just put all the luggage in the penthouse, please.”

Obvious? Maybe. Though there are two separate bedrooms in the penthouse. Either way, I trust that Matis will be professional about it.

“Absolutely, sir.” He disappears into the hotel with the cart, leaving me and Eva with our key cards.

I turn around to find her gazing up at the city, wide-eyed at her surroundings.

We are in Paris after all. I should care about what my staff might think, but I can no longer resist. I wrap my arm around her waist and draw her nearby. The warmth of her breath hits me before my lips find hers—slow at first. With each second, the kiss deepens to a new level.

When I pull away, our breaths are erratic as our eyes meet. “I can’t wait to show you Paris.”

“Me too,” she whispers breathlessly.

“How about we go get settled and freshen up?” I offer.

With her hand in mine, I walk her through the hotel lobby. I don’t miss the way her eye catches on the details of the design, taking it all in.

I’m looking forward to seeing what her brilliant mind comes up with for this place. It’ll no doubt be the talk of the industry. She has no idea how much buzz is already going around about our renovations in New York.

Her career will soar after this.

As we ride the elevator up, Eva continues her inspection.

“Is my elevator ugly too?”

She stiffens and looks at me, eyes opened wide. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just taking it all in. My brain already has so many ideas. This place is amazing. I can’t believe I get to design it.”

I smile down at her, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “I’m the lucky one to have you as a designer.”

She rolls her eyes as the doors open. My hand finds her stomach, and I pull her back against me.

“Remember what happens when you roll those pretty green eyes at me.”

Before she can respond, I walk ahead of her and slide the card into the door. We have the entire floor to ourselves. Which means she can also scream her pretty little heart out all she wants when I fuck her, and no one can hear us.

She once said screaming during sex was over the top. But with me? She’s loud every damn time I make her come—and I live for it.

I open the door and motion for her to walk in first. Some of the penthouse was updated a decade ago. Finished with stainless steel appliances in the kitchen and new couches in the main sitting area.

She walks straight to the long set of French doors that expand across the entire length of the room with the balcony sitting behind them. I open one of the doors and lead her out. The iron tables are complemented with matching chairs and potted plants in the corners to add some greenery.

The view of the city is the real beauty. I don’t bother her as she gets her first real view of Paris. The limestone buildings are scattered about the city as the Eiffel Tower stands tall and proud in the center.

“Just wait until nighttime,” I offer as she studies the sights around us. “It’ll take your breath away.”

Her eyes find mine, soft and searching. “I wouldn’t think anything would take your breath away.”

A subtle breeze blows around us, whipping her hair in different directions. Neither of us moves.

“Not many things do,” I mutter, barely audible over the beat of my now-racing heart.

My throat bobs as words get caught.

I break the connection, looking back at the view. “We’ll have champagne out here tonight.”

“I can’t wait.” Her voice cracks nervously.

“Well, why don’t I show you around the place? Then we can get ready and get this evening started.”

I give her the tour of the penthouse. Matis, ever the gentleman, placed her luggage in the second bedroom.

“You don’t have to stay in this room. I was kind of thinking”—I pull nervously at the back of my neck— “if you wanted to stay with me …”

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

“I want you to do what you feel comfortable with …”

A quiet laugh slips from her lips. “And I want you to tell me you want me to stay with you.”

My hands slide up to her cheeks, warm and teasing. “You’re trouble,” I whisper against her lips, then kiss her slow and smile for a moment. “Yes,” I continue as I pull away, “I want you to stay with me, Eva.”

She smiles against my lips. “Good. I want to stay with you.”

“Well, now that that’s taken care of”—I grab her suitcase— “let’s get ready. I have a special evening planned for us.”

She follows me to the master suite, covered in cream and tan colors. “May I ask how I should dress?”

“Like a woman who can’t wait for me to rip whatever she’s wearing off.”

She places her hands on her hips as her eyebrows rise with a warning.

I chuckle. “Fine. A dress would be preferable. It’s a nice restaurant.”

“Are we going to be doing a lot of walking?”

I begin to open my suitcase. “Are you in the mood for some exercise or something?”

Her hand lands hard on my arm—hard enough to leave a sting. “Don’t make fun of me. I need to know if I should wear heels or something comfortable.”

“Heels are fine. Our car will be taking us everywhere.” On the way to the bathroom I whisper in her ear, “You’re going to pay for that later.”

While I wait for her to get ready, I lie on the bed as the shower runs. The stillness of the room, coupled with the sounds of running water, begins to lull me to sleep.

I moan into the pillows as something warm and soft touches me. It’s the most realistic wet dream I’ve ever had, and then I realize … it’s not a dream at all.

My eyes dart open, and Eva’s mouth is wrapped around my dick. She sucks on the tip softly, not showing any signs of being in a hurry.

“Eva,” I groan.

She moves down my shaft slowly, then brings her lips up again and tastes the precum on my tip.

It’s the most sensual blow job I’ve ever had.

Normally, I like my woman choking on my cock, but there’s something about this.

Seeing her take her time, never looking away from me, being so sweet and gentle.

Her lips are a fire-engine red, smearing all over my dick.

It’s hotter than anything I’ve ever experienced.

I resist the urge to touch her in any way. I don’t want to do anything to disrupt her.

Instead, I watch in complete fascination as she brings me to the fastest, most intense orgasm. I explode in her mouth as I cuss and groan to myself, not sure how I deserve someone like her.

She pushes off the bed and wipes her mouth. It’s not until now that I notice that she is in a red dress—one that matches her smeared lipstick.

“I believe you owe me a night out in Paris.” She smiles. “I’ll be on the balcony while you get ready.”

My feet are rooted to the floor as she shimmies away. It takes me a second to gather myself. She is a complete firecracker, yet the most genuine person I’ve ever met.

The entire time I shower and get ready, I try to shake off the feeling that this trip is going to change us. It feels big. Monumental. And yet I can’t put my finger on what it is.

Looking in the mirror, I hardly recognize the man looking back. It’s not about what I see. It’s about what I can hardly see. The tension, cynicism, anger. It doesn’t seem as prominent as it did before.

For once, I don’t mind the man I feel I’m becoming. I don’t want to look away the moment I see my own reflection.

I grab my hair gel and work it into my thick, dark strands. My dark gray suit is fitted just enough to show my physique in a way that’s not flashy. I spray my cologne, then hit the lights.

It’s time to find my girl and show her the time of her life. I don’t know what our future holds. I don’t know how long she will be mine. But tonight, she’s mine.

I find her leaning against the railing of the balcony, looking out at the view. Behind her lies one of the most spectacular views that most people would give anything to see, but all I see is her.

I place my hands on the railing to cage her in. “You look spectacular, by the way.”

She spins around and leans back. “Thank you. You look quite nice yourself.”

I smile. “Let’s go. The car awaits.”

“Are you going to talk like you walked out of a Jane Austin novel all night?” she jokes lightly.