Page 91 of Wreck Me

‘Let’s find our room.’ Now I know what I’ve been missing all these years, I have a lot of making up to do.

I link my arm through James’s and we stride into thegrand lobby. It's a haven of Parisian sophistication. I never want to leave. Marble floors gleam under the soft glow of the chandeliers. Elegant antique furnishings dot the space. Lavish crystal vases overflow with fresh white flowers.

We’re greeted by the manager. ‘Mr Beckett, how lovely to see you again.’ That accent! If James’s glare is anything to go on, I think I actually swooned.

Whoops.

They exchange pleasantries while my eyes roam over the artwork adorning the walls, landscapes of the city and the river.

The manager shows us to the lift. ‘Allow me to show you to the penthouse.’

I should have guessed.

We ride the glass and chrome lift to the top floor while the manager asks about our dinner plans.

‘We’re eating out tonight,’ James informs him. It’s news to me. Maybe we will run into Gabriel after all!

‘This is yours.’ The manager flashes a key card over the door and opens it for us. ‘You have your own dedicated butler. Buzz if you need anything at all.’

James places a hand on my back and ushers me inside.

My jaw drops at the floor-to-ceiling windows offering breath-taking views of the Paris skyline, including a direct view of the Eiffel Tower. I gravitate to the window, barely registering the opulent, soft cream and gold décor.

I suck in a long slow breath, gazing out at the cityscape. ‘I think this might just be the most magnificent view I’ve ever seen.’

‘Really?’ James’s deep baritone booms from behind me a split second before the sound of metal unzipping bleeds into my ears.

My lips stretch into a wide smile as I slowly turn around. My pulse spikes at the sight in front of me. James has slippedout of his suit jacket, rolled his shirt sleeves up and lowered his boxers enough to treat me to an entirely different view.

‘Okay,’ I concede, my eyes roaming all over my boyfriend. ‘It’s the second most magnificent.’

‘That’s more like it.’ He wraps his hand around the base of his cock. ‘Jesus, Scarlett, look what you do to me. You have me in this state all the fucking time. If I could spend forever with you, it still wouldn't be long enough.’

I stride across the plush carpet. ‘We’re barely here an hour and the most romantic city in the world has gotten under your skin.’

‘No, Scarlett, you’ve gotten under my skin. So damn far, I swear you’ve breached my soul.’

‘The feeling is mutual,’ I murmur, replacing his hand with my own.

‘You know, if you worked for me, we’d have a legitimate reason to make trips like this all the time. You wouldn't be a slave to someone else’s hours or schedule.’

‘Do you always get what you want Mr Beckett?’ I run a finger over his torso, gliding over the smooth planes of muscle beneath.

‘Always.’ His eyes latch onto mine with a devilish glint. ‘And I don’t mind playing dirty.’

‘Show me how dirty you play.’ I push him back towards the bed with a smirk. ‘Then show me this city like you promised.'

Chapter Forty-One

SCARLETT

Paris is every girl’s dream. Last night, when we finally finished dining on each other, we ate in the restaurant on the top floor of the Eiffel Tower. James hired an entire floor overlooking the city below. A violinist serenaded us as one of the country’s highest-acclaimed chefs served us course after course of sumptuous delicacies. Between the stunning scenery, the food, but most of all, the company, it was the most magical night of my life.

Today, we’ve spent the day strolling the city, posing in front of the Arc de Triomphe, and devouring croissants and crepes in discreet French cafés on street corners.

‘Oh my goodness.’ My feet come to an abrupt stop outside the window of the Dior store on the Avenue Montaigne. I could stare at the expensive, elegant haute couture all afternoon. The fabric seems to float from the mannequins.

‘Let’s go in.’ James nudges me towards the entrance.

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