Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
F or the first time ever, I couldn’t get out of the bustling metropolis of Paris quickly enough.
Roman was the picture of concentration as he navigated through the traffic gridlock. It was ironic that last month all I’d wanted was his silence, but now it’s driving me nuts.
My stupid brain was a giant roulette wheel that spun from the shit that went down with Pierre, to seeing Luca, to how good I’d felt in Roman’s arms last night, to how bad I was as his wingman, and then straight back to Pierre.
Once we were beyond the Paris limits, I closed my eyes and pictured Luca. I was equally excited and freaking out about him. Although I want a total repeat of last month’s action with him, I was not going near him until I confirmed he was single.
Anticipation blossomed inside me like a field of sunflowers, alive and glowing. I could see him so vividly . . . the line of copper-colored hair that trailed from Luca’s sexy navel, down to his?—
“What are you smiling at? ”
My eyes shot open, and I jumped at Roman’s voice. “Oh.” I cleared my throat and straightened in my seat. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit! You looked like you were having a wet dream.”
“Jesus, Roman.” I glanced at the nearest passengers, who were both open-mouthed with their bodies slumped, asleep.
“You were thinking of stable boy. Yes?”
My jaw dropped.
“Ahhh . . . stable boy. You going to roll in the hay again?”
“Jeez, will you cut it out! And his name’s Luca.”
“Oh, Luuucccaaaa.” He waggled his head. “Take me, baby.”
Despite fighting it, I giggled. “He’s probably not even there.”
“Oh, he’ll be there. The question is, do you want him there?”
Did I want him there? Hell yeah, I did. I wanted him on me and in me. After I confirm he’s single, that is.
How do I do that?
The obvious answer was to ask him. But that’d be weird given what we’d done last month. Oh, God. If he was married, I’d die. No, I wouldn’t die.
But I’d never have sex again.
I’d find the tightest chastity belt and throw away the key.
Maybe I could become a nun.
Who was I kidding? I liked sex. I wanted to have it more often and lots of it. I had some serious catching up to do.
But only once I know it’s safe.
Luca didn’t strike me as a guy who’d cheat. Crap. Neither had Pierre. Pierre was a flirt and womanizer; I should have seen the signs. Then again, that was what I’d called Roman when I’d first met him. A womanizer.
Roman would never do anything like that. Roman was different.
Luca was too. I’d known him for two years and other than last month, he’d never flirted with me .
Maybe I could ask the staff at the chateau. Jeez . I could picture it now. Oh hey, Maria, how are you going? Say, you know Luca, the stable manager? Well, is he, you know, married? Bloody hell. Talk about desperate.
I’d become a randy little nymphomaniac trying to figure out how I could have sex. Not any old sex. I was talking smoking-hot, out-of-this-world sex. The size of Luca’s erection had blown my mind. And when he’d ejaculated over me, good lord, that had been hot.
Rampant images swirled around my brain like pretty fireflies. It was a wonder I wasn’t drooling. I checked my chin, just to be sure.
“I’d say that was a yes.”
Roman interrupted my fantasizing. “Huh?”
“You want to see him. It’s okay. I am ready to be your wingman.”
I bulged my eyes at him. “What?”
“I will look after these guys . . .” He thumbed over his shoulder. “. . . so you can roll in the hay with stable boy.”
I gave him the evil eye.
“All right . . . Luuuuuca.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The passengers need me.”
“I’ll take them on the tour through the chateau to the high tea, and you go to Luca. Yes?”
“You can’t do that.”
“Yes, I can. They won’t know the difference.”
I scrunched up my nose. “Ummm, no, you can’t. And of course they will.”
“Well, I won’t be exactly like you.” He palmed his chest. “I’ll make it more interesting.”
“Really?” I said with the sarcasm it deserved.
“Yes, really. And what I don’t know I will make up.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I bet you would.”
“I can. Trust me. Besides . . .” He glanced into the large mirror above us. “. . . by the time they’ve devoured their high tea, they’ll have forgotten every word I said.”
Twisting my fingers into knots, I contemplated his suggestion.
After what had happened with Pierre, I couldn’t do it. Not until I knew for sure that Luca was single. I’d make this month my fact-finding mission. Next month . . . who knew what would happen?
Done. Decision made.
I shifted in my seat to look Roman square in the eyes. “The answer is no. Your job is to get us safely from A to B. And you do a mighty fine job of that too, I might add. Looking after the passengers is my job. I’m not going to jeopardize my career.”
He frowned. “But you are going to lose your job soon anyway.”
“Yeah. In five months. Thanks for reminding me.”
“Don’t act like you forgot. You don’t forget anything.”
“That’s beside the point.” I attempted to drive my fingers through my hair but gave up on the crazy mess. “Right now, I am employed, so I have work to do.”
He shrugged and turned the bus onto the road that led to Chateau de Fontainebleau. “Whatever you say.” He mumbled something under his breath in Italian and other than the word stupido, I had no idea what he’d said.
Choosing to ignore him, I squirted sanitizer into my hands and rubbing it in, inhaled the lovely lemongrass scent before I grabbed the microphone. “Wake up, sleepyheads, we’re arriving at our next destination in about five minutes.”
As they roused from their slumber, I gave my usual spiel listing what was special about the royal chateau. The wheels crunched on gravel confirming Roman had turned into the long tree-lined drive that served as the entrance. A few minutes later, he parked and killed the engine .
Leaving Roman with the bus, I led the group down the path flanked by century-old trees. I sprouted one interesting fact after the next about the chateau and the ancient gardens. My group were as disinterested as a bunch of kids at a dishwashing lesson.
Sometimes the occasional tourist was like that, but never had I had a whole group. Maybe the universe was once again trying to tell me something. Like there was a whole world of fun waiting for me in the stables.
Shaking my head, I stepped into the ancient building that usually took my breath away. It didn’t today. My mind was on Luca and his sexy body, and I needed to sort that shit out ASAP.
I dragged my group from one artifact to the next, then we finally made it to the elaborate banquet table. They were all so subdued as they shuffled into seats. It was like Laura had contaminated them with her negative vibes. Maybe it was me. I certainly hadn’t been myself since Pierre fucked everything up. Then again, I hadn’t been the same since I met Roman either.
Roman. Yes!
This was my chance to sus out the women on my tour and see if there were any potential candidates to hook him up with. Everyone was seated and the only available place was between Laura and Rory who was seated beside his wife, Dallas.
It wasn’t ideal, given Laura’s gloomy state and Rory’s obnoxious personality, but across from that seat were Lisa and Susan from Australia. Both were synonymous with young Australian female tourists—young, blonde, and beautiful, with olive skin, perfect white teeth, and athletic-looking bodies. Gah! My body never got the Australian-woman template.
Casting that shit aside, I put on my wing-woman hat for Roman and slid into the chair. The waiters started pouring champagne, and my group finally began chatting.
I leaned toward Laura. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
She turned to me in slow motion, and it seemed to take a second or two before she recognized who I was. My heart ached for her. I knew exactly how she was feeling—like the life had been sucked out of her, leaving her empty.
“I’m okay.” She spoke softly as if embarrassed to be there. Laura was just twenty-two. Her frown and hollow gaze made her look ten years older.
“Did you enjoy Paris?”
She picked at her fingernail, pondering her response. “It was nice.”
I leaned in to speak over the din. “I know what you’re going through. It’ll get better. I promise. Soon he’ll be an ancient memory.”
Her brows drilled together, and I was certain she was about to say something, but the waitress leaned over us to place a silver three-tiered tower of trays brimming with treats into the center of the table.
The noise of the crowd escalated as tower after tower was put into place.
Just looking at the sweet treats had my thighs growing bigger. Actually, that wasn’t true. My breasts embezzled every ounce of fat destined for the rest of my body, especially my ass, hoarding it in my lady lumps instead. Like squirrels storing acorns for winter. A fucking long winter.
Across the table from me, Lisa stood and played host by serving the food to the tourists seated on either side of her and Susan. Following her move, I did the same. There were enough treats to feed a small nation, and although I told myself not to eat too much, my body didn’t behave.
Before I knew it, I’d eaten three savory canapes and four sweet treats. Profiteroles filled with creamy vanilla custard that melted in my mouth. Eclair au chocolate that made the ones I’d tried in Australia taste like cardboard. Sticky caramelized apples and buttery pastry ensured the Tarte Tatin was sweet perfection that was impossible to stop after just one slice.
While I tried to convince myself it was the last bite each time I stuffed another one into my mouth, Laura remained quiet at my side, nibbling on the food like she was a delicate mouse with lockjaw. Rory, though, made my consumption look petite as he shoveled food like a ravenous wild boar, complete with disgusting lip-smacking noises.
Across from me, I studied the gorgeous Aussies, Lisa and Susan.
Susan had a crumb on her lip the size of a peanut, yet she didn’t wipe it away. Even worse, Lisa didn’t mention it. Instantly, I scrapped her as a potential candidate for Roman. And Susan for that matter. How could she not feel that thing?
“It’s really nice here.”
Laura spoke so softly; it was a wonder I’d heard her over the crowd that seemed to have finally found its voice. Chocolate and champagne would do that.
I leaned into her. “I’m glad you like it. I’m so pleased you still came on this tour. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.”
She shook her head and lowered her eyes. “No. But I’d been looking forward to it for so long. It was going to be our honeymoon.”
“Oh no.” My heart squeezed at the sadness in her eyes. “So, you actually canceled your wedding?”
She heaved an enormous sigh as if gearing up for the unthinkable. “He did. A week before.”
“Oh, Laura. I’m so sorry.”
She nibbled on the corner of a custard tart. “I guess it’s a good thing.”
“How long were you together? ”
“Seven years.” Something flickered across her eyes. Like she was on the verge of telling me a secret but had reeled it back just in time. She shrugged. “High school sweethearts.”
“I can relate to that. I met my fiancé in high school, and we broke up after seven years too.” The urge to place my hand on her arm and try to reassure her was so strong, but I feared she wouldn’t like it. She didn’t need me to add to her discomfort.
“Maybe there’s some truth to that seven-year itch thing.” Her grin was lopsided, forced.
“Maybe. I know it’s hard to see it now, but I can honestly say that I would’ve been miserable had we gotten married.”
She tugged her lip into her mouth, verging on tears. I racked my brain for a way to make her feel better. “Roman just broke up with his girlfriend after fifteen years. She cheated on him.”
Oh my God. I can’t believe I said that. I’m a terrible friend. That was his private information—I had no right to share it.
“Wow.” Laura met my gaze. “We’re a sorry bunch then, aren’t we?”
“I guess so.”
I wanted to eat the last tarte on my plate, a little lemon cream topped with meringue. I’d been fighting it, telling myself that I didn’t need it, nor want it. But the damn thing was calling to me. Eat me. Eat me.
I grabbed my champagne glass instead and held it toward Laura. “Let’s have a toast then. To getting rid of assholes.”
Her chin quivered and I knew I’d gone too far. She wasn’t ready. She still loved him. It was possible to love assholes. I’d done it myself for years.
“I can’t . . . I’m . . . I’m pregnant,” Laura blurted.
I swallowed my drink, and it burned all the way down. “Oh, Laura, I’m so sorry. ”
“It’s his,” she stammered. “Richard’s baby. In case you’re wondering.”
I shook my head. “I . . . I wasn’t wondering.” That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.
“He never wanted children. I knew that. He’d made me promise that I also felt the same way.” She didn’t look like she was crying, yet one tear slipped out of her left eye and as it trickled down her cheek, she did nothing to wipe it away.
“Then he should have done something permanent about it. To make sure.”
“He was going to. Had it booked in for September. He’d said it was his wedding gift to me.”
I didn’t mean to, but my face scrunched up. “I’m sorry. I have no idea what to say.”
“That’s half the problem. Nobody knows what to say. His entire family has stopped talking to me. Both his sisters were going to be my bridesmaids, and they won’t even take my calls. It’s like I have a contagious disease growing inside me and not their flesh and blood.” For the briefest of moments, a blaze of anger flashed across her face. Sadness followed in its wake.
Channeling my inner Zali, I raised my glass again. “You know what, Laura? Even though I barely know anything about him, I believe your separation was a blessing in disguise. I think you dodged a bullet.”
“No, I didn’t. That bullet is lodged deep inside me. Now I just have to figure out what to do with it.”
I met her gaze and for the first time, I saw a different side to her. Courage.
A shrill bell sounded, and I jumped. It was time to go.
“Thank you for talking with me.” I placed my hand over her arm, and to my relief, she didn’t flinch. “It’s going to be okay. You’re a strong woman. The fact that you’re here proves it. ”
A smile wobbled across her lips as she returned the treat she’d been nibbling back to her plate next to all the other ones she hadn’t eaten.
Thinking of Zali, I said, “You know what? You’re here now. You might as well have the best possible vacation you can. It may be the last one you get for a while. And maybe the break will give you clarity and help you decide what to do.”
When she didn’t respond, nor even look up from her plate full of treats, I hoped I wasn’t speaking out of line. When I’d broken up with William and crossed the globe to get as far away from him as possible, it’d turned out to be the best decision I’d ever made. Then again, I’d only had to think about me—not a baby as well.
Considering what Laura was going through, my breakup was a breeze.
“Excuse me.” Laura pushed back on her chair and headed toward the restroom sign in the far corner.
Maybe, given my relationship history, I shouldn’t be giving any advice.
I shoved the tarte citron I’d been avoiding into my mouth.
Across from me, Susan and Lisa were sculling their drinks. Yep, those two are definitely crossed off my list of contenders for Roman.
But what type of woman would interest him? I should know that. Worst wing-woman ever!
I should’ve hit him up with twenty questions on what type of chicky-babe got his rocks off.
I bet he’d make a good wingman.
Then again, Roman was good at everything.
Oh, shit. I’d forgotten all about my mission to find out if Luca was married. Glancing at my watch, I pushed back on my chair. “Okay, everyone, listen up. You have fifteen minutes before we’re outta here. The restrooms are down that hall.” I pointed toward the door Laura had departed through. “I’ll meet you at the bus. Now remember, don’t touch anything you can’t afford.”
I strode from the banquet hall. Aiming for the exit, I ran straight into solid muscle. A blaze of heat raced up my neck, and before I even pulled back, the gorgeous scent confirmed who it was. Luca.
“Hey, Daisy.” His voice was both sexy and troubled.
“Oh, hey. Hi.”
“You didn’t come to me.”
“Oh, wow. Ummm. I didn’t know you were here.”
He cocked his head. “I’m always here.”
My gut dropped at how disappointed he looked. “Right.” I swallowed. “Yes.”
His stunning blue eyes drilled into me, taking me to another world. A couple of my tour group passed on either side of us and a few women looked from me to Luca.
Maybe we were oozing fuck-buddy vibes. My insides squirmed at that awkward thought.
Clearing my throat, I smiled up at him. “Want to chat outside?”
“Sure.” He indicated with his hand for me to lead the way.
My heart was in my throat as I strode along the marble corridor. With each step, I forced my mind to conjure up plausible excuses as to why I didn’t go to him. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to—Lord no. Think, Daisy. Think!
We stepped into the sunshine. A swift breeze had brown leaves scooting across the grass like baby field mice chasing each other. I walked around to the side of the exit, away from prying eyes and leaned my back against the wall. The heat of the day was still emanating from the ancient brick.
Luca eased in close, inching into my personal space. But the way he looked at me like he wanted to tear my clothes off and lick me right up the middle, had my insides curling.
“I had the barn all ready for you. ”
Oh, lordy. “I’m sorry.”
He reached for one of my curls, twirling it in his fingers. “I’ve been dreaming of you for weeks.”
“I’ve been dreaming of you too.” It wasn’t a lie. Sometimes I wasn’t even asleep.
“So why didn’t you come to me?”
I contemplated lying. Maybe I could say I had my period or a dry vagina or something. I just about choked on that thought. When his gaze intensified and the heat of his body captured me, I decided that the truth would save me. I cleared my throat. “Are you married?”
“What? No. Who told you that?”
“Nobody. No. It’s just. Ummm, what about a girlfriend? Are you attached to anyone?”
“No. Where’s this coming from? I told you, women barely look at me.”
I wanted to melt at his honesty, and with relief. “I’m sorry.” Oh, God. Now I had to tell him why I was asking.
‘Oh, I’m just wondering ’cause I slept with a married man last night .’
Faaark.
I placed my hand on his chest, biding my time, feeling the warmth of his flesh, hoping with all hope that I didn’t scare him off. “A friend of mine had sex with a guy who she barely knew, and it turned out he was married. She’s a mess over it. And rightly so. And well, anyway, it made me realize that I barely know you and well, I too would die if?—”
He placed his finger to my lips, just like Pierre had done, only this was much more sensual. “No, Daisy, I’m not married. I’m not in a relationship. I haven’t had sex all year. Is that what you want to hear?”
I kissed his finger, and he pulled it back. “Yes, thank you. I’m sorry it’s just?—”
He leaned in, and my breath caught as his lips touched mine. My knees melted and my head swooned. My relief just about had me crumbling to the floor. His fingers glided around my neck, sending shivers up my scalp.
He smelled amazing—all man, all sexuality.
My insides sizzled, and my tongue explored. Our bodies moved together in a way that confirmed we’d crossed some invisible line.
He pulled back all too soon, and my heart thudded at the intensity in his eyes.
Air hissed through his lips, and he rubbed his palm over the zipper of his jeans, obviously trying to subdue the beast awakening inside his pants.
Holy hotness. Our kiss did that.
It took all my might not to jump into his arms and beg him to take me to the stables.
“So, will you come to me next month?”
Hell, yes I will. I’ll even run here if I have to. I reached up and cupped his cheek, feeling his freshly shaved skin. “Yes.”
“I’ll be ready.” He kissed me on the lips, just a quick peck, then he turned and strode away. I watched his sexy butt right to the end of the path.
It took all my might not to chase after him.