Page 18 of Forbidden Bastard
As their mouths separated, she needed to hold onto his arm for a second until she was sure her feet were steady. But then he stepped back, ran his hand through his short, slightly curly hair and shook his head. “We should never do this again.”
Adrenaline coursed through her as she pressed herself against the wall between him and her small bed. “Why not?”
He let out a long sigh that sounded like it pained him. “Because your kiss makes me believe you might bethe oneand that’s not actually possible.”
She flinched. The one? “Why?”
He motioned with his head toward the door. “Because love and romance aren’t real.”
She held her hand to her heart. Somehow she’d tripped over one of his emotional walls or something. “They aren’t?”
He pursed his lips together like this was obvious as he said, “Romance is a delusion where we make ourselves believe we’re happy because someone is in our life, and love is the justification for indulging in our desires.”
Maybe she’d seen one too many movies or she'd read one too many books, but her heart went into double-time as she opened the door. “I disagree.”
The air from the hall helped cool her.
Good.
He put his hands in his pockets. “Because life is sunshine and rainbows for you?”
Just because she didn’t believe his jaded viewpoint didn’t make her childish. She had her hand on her hip as they headed out of her room. “No. But love exists. It’s real and everywhere.”
He shrugged and walked next to her as they made their way down the stairs in lieu of the elevator. “Psychosis is all around us but it’s best to be honest. Our kiss earlier was strictly chemistry.”
So he'd felt something too. Good. She relaxed as she said, “It was.”
They sailed through the tiny lobby with the glittering chandelier of the hotel that was at one point someone’s house and onto the streets of Paris. “But you’re still going to find me another woman to marry.”
True. Yes. Right. She’d follow through and then never think about kisses or Paris or Charles. Charles was tall and handsome and the first man like that who didn’t make her feel… well, awkward, but she wasn’t going to push for a marriage until she decided what she wanted. “What do you want me to do?”
He directed them to a small bakery on the street corner and held the door for her. “Leave and never come back to Paris.”
Her nose wrinkled as she said, “I can’t now, not until you get married.”
“Why?” He turned his attention toward the cashier where he ordered croissants, butter, fruit,cafe au laitfor himself and then he glanced at her. "What would you like?"
She remembered her friends in high school once talking about the hot chocolate in Paris. “Hot chocolate.”
Charles translated that to, “Chocolat chaud.”
He paid, then gestured toward an oval table with two seats. She answered his earlier question of why she couldn't leave Paris right away. “My parents need the deal you offered.”
He moved their seats so they both might enjoy watching people pass them from under the awning of the café near the street. “I only offered because the matchmaker in Avce prides herself on being able to find anyone’s true love.”
Her mind and body buzzed. Seriously? She'd once Googled the famous matchmaker and even put getting a name on her vision board. She’d wanted to know who her true love was--the system had a perfect record. Butterflies grew in her stomach as she asked, “The woman who owns AvceLoveMatch.com?”
He shrugged like this wasn’t a big deal and said, “That’s her. She’s my half-sister…I wanted to prove her wrong.”
Which meant he'd just saved her twenty-thousand dollars to find out the name. Charles was her match.
She tugged her ear and leaned closer to be sure. “So, she gave you my name?”
He nodded. “Yes. That's why I contacted your parents with the proposal via email. I knew your business was failing.”
Wait. So he'd made the deal because he knew they were perfectly matched as strangers and then let her leave his office that day without revealing this?
She tilted her head as her mind raced.
