Page 27 of All the Gossip from Paris
He was still trying to figure out how he would deal with Sophie when his parents disappeared into their bedroom, and closed the door behind them.
“How on earth did we end up here?” asked Ryan, his gaze tracking around the room. “The main living area of the suite is bigger than our entire apartment back in New Jersey. In fact I think at a pinch, it might just squeeze into the master bedroom.”
He caught the sense of wonderment in his brother’s voice. The slight tone of being a bit overwhelmed. Liam hoped that no matter how much change happened in Ryan’s life, underneath it all he would always be just a guy from Bloomfield, New Jersey.
“It was nice of Sophie to offer to play tour guide for you. Cami said they figured since you’ve been to Paris a few times, you wouldn’t be interested in going to see the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe. But if you still want to come with us, you’re welcome. I can always message Sophie and tell her not to worry.”
Ryan was giving him an out. And Liam was sorely tempted to take it. But if he and Sophie were going to be related by marriage, it made sense to face her now. Clear away any possible weirdness between them. If they addressed things today, then hopefully they would both be able to relax at the wedding. It would make Ryan and Camille’s big day all that more special.
And wasn’t that what truly mattered?
“It’s very generous of Sophie to offer to show me some of the less visited places in Paris. Or what was it you locals call it — Paname.”
“I wouldn’t dare call myself a local after such a short time. My French is improving, but I’m still too scared to use it when I visit the stores. Shop assistants take one look at me and know I’m American. So at the moment I’m still firmly playing Emily in Paris.”
But without the relationship drama or the daring designer wardrobe.
Liam kept those thoughts to himself. His brother was dressed in the subtle luxury of the wealthy. Tailored pants and a cashmere sweater that likely didn’t come from any department store. Camille’s billionaire fashion makeover of her future husband was well underway.
“Which of these rooms is mine?” asked Liam.
If Sophie was enroute to see him, then he’d better hit the shower and try to make himself presentable.
Ryan pointed to the hallway which led off the main living area. “You’re down there at the end of the hall.”
“Ok. Well I might just go freshen up before Sophie gets here.” Liam headed off to his room.
A few minutes alone to get his head together was needed. To be mentally prepared to greet Sophie Royal. Anything to convince himself that she hadn’t remained in his thoughts these past three months.
And certainly not to think about the times he’d pleasured himself in the shower just dreaming of her. Or how hard he’d become whenever he recalled the softness of Sophie’s skin. And don’t get him started on her delicate enticing scent.
No, he wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t. He…
Liam closed the door to his room, and stripped off his clothes. In the bathroom he turned on the shower, and took a deep calming breath.
I won’t think filthy thoughts about Sophie. I won’t.
The second he stepped under the hot flow of the water, an unbidden image of Sophie’s naked breasts sprang to his mind. Liam’s hand was on his cock, his fingers gripping tight, as his willpower disappeared in an instant.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Stop worrying,” muttered Sophie, as she slowed the car up to the hotel’s parking garage. She’d been repeating those words all through the hour long drive from her family home in Marly- le- Roi to the Royal Resorts Hotel in the 8th arrondissement. Fate was against her this morning. The trip usually took thirty minutes. But the roads were icy, and the traffic heading into Paris had been moving at a crawl.
After handing her car keys to the valet, along with her family name, Sophie headed for the nearest bank of elevators. As the door of the elevator car closed, she let out the breath she’d been holding.
She was being ridiculous. One night. Liam had spent one night in her bed. They’d parted as friends. What had happened between them had to stay in New York.
If it doesn’t, I’m going to explode.
The mere thought of meeting Liam again had set her heart racing this morning. It still hadn’t calmed down. She’d been thinking about Liam Collins nonstop. His gorgeous tattoos. His piercing. The way he’d fucked her. She was a hot lustful mess, and seriously regretting her foolish offer to come into Paris and show Liam a good time.
A good time. Talk about a double entendre. You idiot.
Her only consolation was that it was winter. She could hide the evidence of her desire under a blazer, a long woolen coat, and a pair of straight leg jeans. Pulling her makeup mirror out of her tote, Sophie checked her face.
Lipstick a deep shade of winter red. Perfect. Eyes, smoky gray. Magnificent. Her skin? Flawless, apart from the tell-tale glow of her cheeks.
“Merde,” muttered Sophie.
