Page 62 of How to Resist Prince Charming

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When they arrived at the hotel, Lenna remembered not to thank Braxton as he held the door open for her. But she did give him a big, enticing smile as she passed. As he stared back, his eyelids grew heavy and his grin predatory.

Slipping his arm over her shoulder, he murmured into her hair, “I have to admit, listening to you talk French all night was definitely a turn on.”

They stopped at the entrance to their suite.

Braxton reached around her to unlock the door and let her precede him inside.

Lenna turned so she could face him. Walking backward into the room, she met his gaze and let out a husky laugh. “So, just how much did you like my French?”

His eyes lit with desire as he shut the door behind him and stalked toward her. “So much I’m glad Trousseau didn’t notice my raging hard on.”

Lenna giggled and coyly kept backing away but he snagged out a hand and caught her wrist.

“I’ve been hot and bothered all night,” he murmured, drawing her closer in order to kiss his way down her neck.

Lenna shut her eyes and sighed, tipping her face up to give him better access. “Pouvez-vou parler plus lentement, s’il vous plait,” she said huskily.

Braxton shivered. “God,” he groaned. “That sounds dirty. What’d you say?”

“I said, ‘please speak more slowly.’”

He threw back his head and laughed.

Lenna grabbed the front of his shirt and jerked him closer, wanting to run her tongue along his jaw. “Je voudrais une chamber avec sale de balcon,” she murmured in his ear and then nipped at the lobe with her teeth. “I’d like a room with a balcony. Est-ce qu’on peut nager ici sans danger?” she continued. “Is it safe to swim here?”

Braxton filled his hands with her hair. “I don’t need the translation,” he muttered in a thi

ck voice. “Just...keep going.”

Grinning, Lenna kissed her way down the side of his neck. “Pouvez-vous preparer ma note, s’il vous plait?” she murmured and kept saying inconsequential phrases that seemed to drive him mad.

As Braxton backed her toward the bed, she ached for that all-consuming burst of animation she knew he could give. She wanted to wrap herself around him and live in this moment for the rest of eternity.

She refused to think about what lay ahead of them after they returned from their trip. She didn’t want to remember how Braxton was her dirty little secret and she only added to his complications at work. She just wanted this.

So, she took it. She took Braxton into her mouth and sucked him until he cried out her name in a hoarse voice and begged to be inside her. She relented only because she desired it as much as he did.

Later, when Braxton was wrapped around her and their bare legs were tangled together under the warm sheets, he rested his cheek on her shoulder and idly stroked her hip.

“I love being here like this with you,” he murmured drowsily.

Without answering, she stared up at the sculpted ceiling and kept playing with tendrils of his hair. But she smiled wistfully.

“I don’t feel like I have to carry a world full of responsibilities on my shoulders when I’m in your arms. I can just...be.”

She tipped her face to the side to kiss his forehead. “It does feel incredibly right, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” He hugged her to him as if she were his favorite blankie and turned in toward her to return the kiss, placing his on her chest, right over her heart. “Nothing else has felt quite so...right.”

With a relinquishing sigh, he relaxed and his breathing changed, growing long and steady. He’d definitely put in too long of a day.

She continued to play with his hair but had to pause once to wipe away a stray tear. Being in his life caused him plenty of complications but knowing she eased his troubles was worth it. Promising herself she would remain worth it to him, she softly whispered, “Je t’adore,” as he slept deeply and peacefully in her arms.

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The next morning, Braxton sat Indian style on his hotel bed, skimming through a Paris guidebook he’d bought. “So, where do you want to go first?”

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