31. Rei
A limo waited for us along the small airport runway where we landed, and the driver took us along a dark highway to the Eiffel Tower, where we’d be getting married in just three days.
I thought I’d be seeing it for the first time on my wedding day, but Quentin led me to a white tent set up near its base.
A server held back a flap for us, inviting us into the warm space. Once we were inside, he excused himself to get our meal.
“You did all this?” I asked, looking in wonder at the dining table. Twinkle lights hung along the seams, and ahead of us, the imitation Eiffel Tower glittered through a plastic window.”
He nodded and said, “Do you like it?”
“Oh yes.” I nodded quickly. “If you ignore the cowboy hat and the lack of people, it’s easy to pretend it’s the real thing.” I grinned. “The cowboy hat reminds me of the time I went to Paris and saw the giant tennis ball hung up for Wimbledon.”
He walked closer to the window, looking incredibly handsome in his charcoal-gray perfectly-tailored suit.
“Can you believe we’ll be getting married here in three days?
” I couldn’t read the emotion behind his question, and that made me uncomfortable.
My early childhood trauma meant I was excellent at reading people, but not Quentin.
He seemed so confident in this plan to get married, but Jada’s words had wormed their way into my heart and mind. Regrets were hard to live with, that much I knew, and had the therapy bill to prove it.
I thought marrying Quentin would be the best outcome for everyone.
Even if the PI couldn’t find any dirt to use against Conrad, my company’s contract with MyHome would be secure, and I could get Conrad away from my company.
My employees would have jobs guaranteed for at least five years.
Quentin would get married and the founders would be that much closer to saving the shares.
My identity would be revealed, but I’d have five years to do damage control.
I wrung my hands in my lap, knowing Quentin wouldn’t appreciate being kept in the dark. “What if we get married and you regret it?” I asked him.
He turned to look at me again with an eyebrow arched. “I should be asking you the same thing. I noticed that change in subject on the flight here when our wedding came up. I know this is happening fast.”
My stomach shifted uncomfortably. It was fast, but crazy enough, that wasn’t my biggest concern. “If this marriage goes badly for me, I can just get a divorce and be a billionaire.” I shrugged. My exit plan was clear enough. “Your exit plan seems a lot worse.”
His gaze narrowed suspiciously like he saw right through me. “We both know it’s not about money. You’re a businesswoman. We could always make more. What’s concerning you?”
“We only have a short time to get to know each other. What if you learn something about me you don’t like?” I’d said too much. I knew it in the way his back stiffened.
But then the server came back with a bread basket. He poured us champagne, and Quentin and I settled into the chairs across from each other. While he draped a napkin over his lap, I wondered for the millionth time what thoughts were behind his impassive expression.
As soon as the server left, I said, “Please say something, Quentin.”
“You’re right. You could learn something about me you don’t like.
” He sipped champagne. “In business, we take calculated risks and hope for the best. Right now, I’m weighing the risk of not marrying you and losing the company versus marrying you and getting a chance with an incredible woman.
It might be the best odds I’ve ever had. ” His smile reached his eyes.
“But what if it goes badly?” I asked, unable to hold myself back.
“I won’t know unless I try,” he breathed.
I looked at him questioningly, and he answered by leaning closer, cupping my face in his large hand, until our lips were millimeters apart. He paused, a question waiting for an answer.
My gaze flicked from his glittering brown eyes to his mouth, while my mind and heart warred. My willpower wasn’t strong enough to hold back. Not when he looked at me like I was every hope he’d held on to and stashed away.
And finally, my heart won.
At first, the brush of his lips was soft, tentative.
His fingers wound into the loose tendrils of hair at the base of my neck, holding me softly.
Needing more of him, I tilted my head to deepen the kiss and tasted champagne on his tongue.
Little happy bubbles fluttered up my chest like they were a part of me now.
I gripped his tie, holding on, anchoring me to this moment. And then I tugged him even closer.
He let out a low moan that instantly sent heat to my core and ran his hands down my back until he was pulling me closer. I sat in his lap, feeling the press of his erection against my hip. Surprised at how much I wanted him, I broke the kiss, panting.
He stared at me in awe, and I’d never felt more cherished than when he looked at me like that.
Our server cleared his throat, rolling in a tray with two plates covered with cloches. “Time for the first course.”
My heart thumped painfully as I slid out of his lap, but he held on to me, keeping me close.
“I wish we had more time,” he whispered, pressing a short kiss to my cheek.
“When we’re married, we’ll have nothing but time,” I said, knowing it was my biggest lie yet. Once he knew why I’d initially gone along with this marriage, he’d want me as far away from him as possible, even though I was starting to fall for him.