Page 36 of Royal Hottie
He punches a few buttons on his phone. “What?”
“You.”
His head jerks up. “You want to do…” Understanding dawns. He smirks and then shakes his head. “Ruby, I thought we—”
“I don’t care,” I whisper. “I’m leaving in two days. I can’t leave never knowing what it’s like to be with you.”
He gives me a cocky smile. “It’s fantastic.”
I laugh. “I don’t doubt that for a moment.”
He gazes into my eyes. “Be sure. I don’t want you to have regrets.”
“No regrets. Paris is our little bubble. We can do whatever we want there, and when we leave, it’s only with good memories.”
“We’ll always have Paris.”
“Extra points for theCasablancareference.”
He smooths a lock of hair behind my ear. “If I knew we were going to have a Paris bubble, I would’ve brought you here days ago instead of playing tour guide on Villroy.”
“One night. That’s what makes it a bubble. A onetime thing.”
“One night, not one time.” He holds me by the chin and kisses me gently and then nips my lower lip. “Done.” Then he gets on the phone, punches a few buttons, and speaks in rapid French, arranging what is no doubt going to be a primo hotel. All I care about is finally letting go with him. No more holding back.
~ ~ ~
The restaurant is everything Phillip described from the moment I step through the arcade at Place des Voges to entering the restaurant with its elegant decor. It’s like I stepped back in time to mingle in the parlor with high society. I’m so glad I brought my little black dress. This place is high class. No detail is overlooked, and I try to take it all in without gawking—gold-framed silk tapestries, gilded mirrors, crystal drop chandeliers, marble flooring with artfully placed Persian rugs. Each table is set elegantly with a white tablecloth, crystal wineglasses, china dishes, an abundance of silverware, and a small crystal vase of fresh flowers. I take Phillip’s lead for what silverware goes with which dish. He was born to this; I’m just along for the ride.
What Phillip left out of his restaurant description is that the food is a frigging work of art! I didn’t know food could look so stylish. It’s almost too gorgeous to eat! My appetizer is scallops arranged in a circle in a spring pea soup with some fresh herbs and a purple flower in the center. I take a picture of it before I ruin the arrangement, which makes Phillip laugh.
I love absolutely everything, and Phillip is kind enough to share samples of his dishes. He ordered rack of lamb and I ordered the sole. And how cute is this? My potato pancake had little baby asparagus heads popping out of it! My absolute favorite is dessert. Mine looks like a cream puff cut in half, but in the center is a two-layer chocolate cake with a thick layer of sweet mango cream. Phillip’s dark chocolate tart is also to die for. I probably could’ve finished off both desserts myself because, while the dishes were the highest quality, they were not big portions. This is food to savor.
The chef, a man in his seventies, even came out of the kitchen to see how we were enjoying our dinner. He and Phillip chatted for a bit in French. I wish I knew something to say beyondbonjourandmerci beaucoup.
After dinner, we take a walk through the city with his guards. I’ve never been here before, and it’s a lot to take in, but my mind keeps skipping ahead to later—the hotel, the bed, a naked Phillip. I’m not nervous like I normally would be going to bed with a guy for the first time. I just feel excited. We’ve gotten to know each other well over the last two weeks. He’s a good man and my gut says to trust him.
He’s playing tour guide now, and I try to remember to say “cool” and “oh, really” at regular intervals.
He stops suddenly and turns me toward him, his hands gripping my upper arms. “Ruby, where are you? Am I boring you with the tour?”
I glance at his guards standing behind him. They discreetly look away.
I go on tiptoe and whisper, “I keep thinking about the hotel. Will Henry and Rafe be joining us there?”
He grins. “Yes, but they’ll be posted outside the room, near the access points.”
I keep my voice low. “Will they be able to hear us?”
His eyes dance with amusement. “Depends on how noisy you are.”
“Me? What about you?”
“They’re used to me.”
I park a hand on my hip. “So this is like a regular thing for you?”
He cocks his head. “Now see, this is a trick question. If I say yes, you’ll be pissed. If I say no, I’m lying to you. I don’t want to lie to you, Ruby.”
