Chapter 5
Lex
I know Saint and Zane have fucked around with Vani, but I don’t demand my turn—at least not yet. I’ve already decided I will wait and claim her for my own on the flight home instead. It will make a long, boring journey so much more interesting.
Anyway, she’s sleeping now, or she was the last time I checked. All curled up on her seat, looking utterly adorable. I’ve dozed on and off, and both Saint and Zane slept, probably because they both had orgasms, the lucky bastards. Thanks to Vani.
I love that woman so fucking much it hurts. We’ve all been through so much together it’s convinced me this thing between all of us was meant to be.
The pilot announces we’re about to begin our descent, and I quickly check Vani has her safety belt on, then fasten my own.
Slowly, the blue sky gives way to a thick layer of cloud as we circle Paris, descending in an arc, winding our way to Charles De Gaulle Airport. The green landscape is lush and flat as we hover like a huge metal bird over the far outskirts of the city.
The airport is over ten miles from the center of Paris, and Saint has booked us a limo to take us to the rental house. The wheels hit the tarmac as the airplane touches down, and once it comes to a stop, I stretch my legs out, anticipating the moment when I can stand and walk around.
My mouth is dry from the air-con system, and I would love a shower and a beer.
The pilot says his bit, thanking us all for traveling with them and wishing us all a very happy Christmas and best wishes for the new year. We grab our bags from the overhead lockers, Zane taking Vani’s for her, and exit the plane.
We head through customs and passport control—where it’s all very serious, and there isn’t so much as a nod as to what time of year it is—and wait for our bags.
Smirking as the first of our bags appears, I shake my head. Saint tied a fucking Gucci scarf around each bag, so we could “identify” them from the other people’s on the carousel. God, he’s such a dick sometimes.
Then we head through the gate and enter the landside portion of the airport. A man in a sharp suit is waiting, and he holds up a sign that reads Laurant. Saint’s and my surname.
We stride his way, and he greets us politely before leading us outside to where the car is waiting. Bags stowed in the trunk, we clamber into the back of the limo to take the short ride into the city.
“This car is luxurious.” Vani beams at Saint. “The car, the first-class seats, you’ve done good so far.”
“Well, it was all of us who contributed,” he concedes, dipping his head as if he’s being self-deprecating. “I just planned it all.”
Soon, the fields and scattered suburbs give way to the city.
Almost every building has lights and decorations hung, and there are beautiful streetlights, too, with stars and angels strewn across them, which will look wonderful when night falls and they’re lit.
A pride at my home city swells up inside me.
Paris did good, and I’m thrilled Vani will be seeing it for the first time during the festive period.
I’m excited for her to see the Christmas markets—the Marchés de Noel—on the Champs-élysées and the ice-skating rink at the Grand Palais.
We glide through the streets, and a sense of familiarity and calm settles in me. America is so different than Europe in many ways, and although I love it, it’s not home. No matter where I go in the world, France will always have my heart.
Eventually, we arrive at the holiday rental.
I stifle a yawn as we carry the bags inside.
It’s been a long night, with all the traveling, and now we have the time difference to deal with.
It might still feel like nighttime to me, but it’s definitely daytime in Paris.
Still, it’s not as though we have to report in at an office somewhere. Our time is our own.
“Oh, my God!”
I turn to see Vani staring around, awestruck.
The hallway is huge and airy, with parquet wood floors, but that’s not what’s caught her attention.
It’s clear the place has been professionally decorated for Christmas.
A huge, real Christmas tree stands in one corner, decorated in a red and gold theme, with soft, twinkling lights between the branches.
The air is redolent with the scent of fresh pine.
More lights have been strung across the ceiling, together with evergreen garlands and red ribbons.
On the hall console stands a display of winter florals, with LED candles inside hurricane lamps.
“This is absolutely gorgeous,” Vani exclaims.
I have to admit, whoever decorated this place did an excellent job.
Saint grins. “Wait until you see the rest. This floor holds the formal living area. There’s a huge dining space, a kitchen, and two living rooms. Upstairs are the bedrooms, and three bathrooms. But downstairs there’s a gym, a pool, and…
. just for you, Zane… a chill out room, and a den.
Oh, and a small home cinema. So, you can take your American ass down there and watch movies with popcorn, while we sophisticated Europeans drink fine wine, and eat the best food with our lovely Venom. ”
Vani smiles at the use of our nickname for her, mainly because of the huge snake tattoo down her back, but also because our small gang is known as the Vipers back at Verona Falls University.
Zane rolls his eyes and pushes past Saint so hard he falls back against the wall as Zane stalks by. Saint only chuckles.
I hear Zane rummaging around in a room at the end of the corridor and follow to see he’s got his head in the fridge. He pulls out beers and grins, holding them aloft.
“Yes, they did stock some of the basics.” Saint looks like the cat that got the cream, and truly he’s right to.
We might have helped pay for this, but Saint did all the research and he’s done good.
“There is beer, wine, champagne, of course, as well as eggs, bacon, cheese. There are baked goods, too, or so the email said. Croissants and fresh bread in a cupboard somewhere.”
“Beer?” I ask Saint as I take one gratefully from Zane.
He wrinkles his brow. “No, not yet. I’m going to take a shower. Wash the journey off.”
Vani wanders into the room, her mouth half open, her eyes wide. The kitchen has been decorated as lavishly as the entrance hall. I’m already starting to wonder how many trees they can fit in one building.
“This place is insane. It’s stunning. Look at it.” She points vaguely all around her. “Let’s explore.”
Vani’s wish is always our command, so we do. I put off my beer, although Zane brings his, and Saint postpones his shower for a bit as we walk the property.
The dining room is gorgeous, with a table long enough to sit twelve taking center stage.
A huge festive centerpiece with pinecones and berries and candles runs down the middle, and yet another tree, this one perhaps even bigger than the one in the hallway, is positioned in the tall window.
Vani oohs and aahs over it all, running her fingers down the dark wood of the table.
We drag her away to show her the main living room.
The place takes my breath away.
The size alone is enough to make you take notice, but the design features are incredible, and I’m not Saint. I’m not someone who always wants only the best.
The floor is the same parquet we came across in the hallway, and to one side of the room is a black lacquer grand piano.
In front of it is a sitting space, with three chairs, a sofa, and a two-seater.
There are coffee tables dotted around and a stunning, sixties-style drinks cabinet.
The mirror frame is thick and black, and shaped as if it’s melting, like a Dali painting.
Of course, every inch of it has been carefully strewn with decorations.
The high, ornate ceilings means yet another giant, real Christmas tree is fully decorated—this time in silver and white—and lights sparkle in the pine.
The walls are adorned with framed wreaths and tasteful festive wall hangings, while a large mirror above the fireplace doubles the twinkling of the lights.
A grand chandelier overhead has been dressed with small sprigs of greenery.
Vani stands with her hand pressed to her chest, and her jaw hangs open as she turns a slow circle in admiration.
The final room on this floor is the second living room. This one has been kept free of Christmas decorations and provides a small, but calmer, space with an expensive feel in which to relax. It has bold design features and is modern and pared back.
“It’s all wonderful,” Vani breathes.
Saint catches her hand. “There’s more to see yet.”
He’s right, I discover, as we head down to the basement level.
It’s divided into two parts, the lowest of which is almost entirely taken up by the pool.
It’s heated, and a beautiful blue, and the light bounces off it and dances along the tiled walls.
On the walls are hung modern prints in bold colors.
Back up on the main part of the lower ground area, there are a few other rooms. A gym.
The small cinema room. A den to chill in, and unlike the rooms upstairs, this is carpeted and filled with soft furniture, and a small reading room.
While the gym and cinema room are relatively free of Christmas decorations, the den and reading room are a more subtle version of upstairs.
On the upper floor of the house are a number of bedrooms, three opulent bathrooms, and a huge balcony, which we head out to now.
The outside space is sublime. Beautiful miniature trees, all threaded with soft, warm fairy lights, and plants line the glass safety barrier, meaning the view isn’t of the noisy city streets below, but a romantic snapshot of the Paris rooftops.
Vani joins us and stares ahead, as she claps her hands to her mouth. “Oh, my God,” she exclaims.