Page 58 of One Night in Monaco

Everything.

Everything except a non-refundable plane ticket to Paris, which was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime where that deadbeat was going to propose at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

So, it’s understandable that when I started drinking at the Buddha Bar, things got a little out of hand.

Luckily, a man intervened. He was so ripped that I could see every thick rope of muscle of his abs, obliques, chest, and arms through the tight tee shirt he was wearing. He was so tall that hetoweredover the guys who were bothering me, and they backed off.

So I took him back to my hotel because I was full of drunken, bad decisions that night.

The last thing I needed was a man who wanted to save me when I was trying to disappear.

* * *

Maxence was hiding. His own brother was trying to kidnap or kill him, and an organized crime thug definitely wanted to cut off his head and feed it to the sharks for an entirely different reason.

So when a cute little blonde stood up on a bar stool in the middle of the Buddha Bar in Paris and announced something scandalous, Maxence swooped in for the rescue. Everything about her appealed to him: her sweetness, her giggliness, and especially the fact that she was in trouble.

That last part made her sugar and catnip to Max.

Luckily, he only has five days before he has to leave Paris and Europe for wherever his global charity job was going to send him this time.

Why shouldn’t he spend it with the funny blonde who insisted he lie to her about who he was?

Indeed, if she thought everything he said was lies, he could tell her the truth about everything: confess his sins, unburden his soul, and reveal what he thought he never could.

Five days with her sounded like Heaven, if he could just convince her to stop throwing him out of her hotel room.