Page 90 of Wreck Me

I swallow thickly, drowning in his dilating pupils. ‘You won’t lose me. I couldn’t leave if I tried. But after graduation, I need to get a job. One that doesn’t involve you paying me to pretend to be in love with you.’

‘You don’t need to get a job,’ James says softly.

‘I do. Do you think I worked my butt off to get into Trinity, and spent four years with my head buried in the books, to not use my degree? Iwantto work.’

‘Work for me,’ he purrs.

‘I couldn’t.’ I shake my head.

‘Why not?’ His eyebrows furrow together.

‘Because everyone would think you only gave me the job because we’re fucking.’

He glowers. ‘We might be “fucking”, but one day we’ll be family. And what will it matter anyway?’

Family.

The one word that should mean so much but, in reality, has meant very little to me. Until now.

‘I’ll think about it.’ More like, I’ll see what my other options are.

He tuts. ‘You’re the only undergraduate to turn down a six-figure salary before you’ve even graduated. Don’t let your pride make you fall. Take our relationship out of the situation. A finance position in a global company would look amazing on your CV. Not that it matters, because the only way you’ll be leaving is to have our babies.’

A pang of longing pulls at a string inside. ‘Babies?’ I thought when he said it the other day, it was just in the heat of the moment. I’ve never dared to hope before. To think too far into the future, other than surviving the wrath of the O’Connors and passing my exams.

‘Yes, Scarlett, babies. Not now, but some day. Maybe in a decade I’ll be ready to share your attention with another human.’ He offers a wry smile. ‘I know things are moving quickly but I know what I want, and it’s you. I’m all in Scarlett. The question is, are you?’

I swallow again. ‘I’m all in with you, but seriously, I need to think about the job. Living together, working together, sleeping together, it might be too much. And besides, you might change your mind after the intern placement. I could be crap.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. You have more drive and determination than anyone I know. Look how far you’ve come on your own.’

A memory of my mother hits me like a hammer.

Would she approve of James Beckett?

I think so.

‘Let’s talk about something else.’ I drop a hand to his knee. I’ll tell him everything, but not now. I’m not ready. Not when the truth has the potential to cause my life to implode so spectacularly. Not when, for the first time in a long time, everything feels right in the world.

It’s dark when we land at Charles de Gaulle Airport. A sleek, black limo is waiting to take us to our hotel. I refuse the champagne the driver offers purely because I want to remember every single second of the journey without a fuzzy head.

My heart hammers in my chest as I get my first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower. The iconic structure sparkles against the navy night sky, illuminated by thousands of golden lights that cast a warm, welcoming glow. It’s a breathtaking sight. Elegant. I can’t believe I’m actually here.

A few minutes later, the driver drops us on the Avenue Montaigne outside the Hotel Plaza Athenee. Its classic Haussmann-style façade provides a majestic appearance, accentuated by signature red awnings and matching geranium-filled window boxes, contrasting against the creamy white of the building. Each room appears to have a wrought iron balcony. I can’t wait to see what it’s like inside.

‘What do you think?’ James pulls me into his chest.

‘I can’t believe this is my life. I feel like Emily,’ I squeal, clapping a hand over my mouth.

‘Well, if that daft fucking chef turns up looking for you, I’ll throw him into the Seine,’ James tuts.

‘I knew you were watching it really!’ I slap his chest playfully.

‘I wasn't watching it. I was watchingyouwatch it.’

‘Do I look like Gogglebox to you?’ I grab his hand and tug him towards the entrance, which is adorned with multicoloured exotic flowers. The glass doors are flanked by two doormen, dressed in top hats and morning suits.

‘I’d watch you watching paint dry if it meant I could slip my hand inside your panties,’ he murmurs into my ear.

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