Spiraling Deception (12 page)

Huh…yeah, right—like I
have an alternative!
I thought, but didn’t
voice.

As he rose from his chair, Roman held his
hand out toward me. “Come, it’s getting late and you have an early
morning appointment at the embassy tomorrow.”

Reluctantly, I placed my hand in his much
larger one. The contact sparked a current of electricity to zing up
along my arm. Oh hell—the guy was right: I was illogically and
irrationally attracted to him. Unbidden, the image of me naked,
wanton beneath Roman as he lavished my breasts with the heat of his
mouth caused a shiver to rack my body.

“
Cold?” he asked and I
shook my head. His silent answering smirk made me wonder whether he
could read my thoughts.

Pulling his phone from the back pocket of
his pants with his free hand, he pressed a button. “Miss Gilmore
and I are ready,” he said curtly, and then pocketed his cell.

“
Who was that?” I asked,
as Roman held the door to the restaurant open for me.

“
Seth.” He gestured to the
curb with a nod. My gaze swung to the road where I saw Seth,
Roman’s driver/bodyguard, waiting with the back passenger door open
for us. Roman let go of my hand, motioned for me to climb into the
back, and then bent down low, his mouth close to my ear. The warm
exhale of his breath ruffled my hair and for the second time
tonight, I clenched my thighs tightly together.

His murmur was so soft, I almost didn’t
catch it. “And Princess, for the record…I’m not a millionaire.”

My brows furrowed in surprise. “You’re
not?”

“
No,” he answered firmly.
Amusement twinkled in those inky blue eyes of his. “I’m a
billionaire.”

Chapter Eight

A freaking billionaire!

Whoa… The thought was both disconcerting and
mind-boggling. I mean, the guy was thirty-two—which wasn’t old by
any stretch of the imagination—so how in the hell does someone
relatively so young amass such a fortune? Was he born into it or
was he some kind of genius business savant?

An even more disconcerting thought filtered
across my mind: Roman Knight was the type of man who could have any
woman he wanted. He was unbelievably handsome, devilishly
charismatic, and clearly intelligent—so what in the hell was he
doing with a woman like me? The words sophisticated and worldly
would never be adjectives used when describing me. Although I
wasn’t some horribly disfigured ogre, I was relatively pretty;
however, a beautiful supermodel I most certainly was not. And a
worldly supermodel or some stunningly gorgeous sophisticated woman
was exactly the type of woman who I could picture on Roman Knight’s
arm.

My eyes drifted to Roman, who sat silently
beside me on the car’s plush leather backseat. The soft glow from
the street lights and passing vehicles partly illuminated his
handsome profile while simultaneously casted ominous shadows across
his features as his fingers flew over the keypad of his phone. I
watched, fascinated, as his brow furrowed; his eyes scanned back
and forth along the small-lit screen in concentration and
occasionally he darted his tongue out and ran it the length of his
bottom lip. Whatever he was reading on his phone at that moment had
his complete concentration and I found watching Roman work was
equally fascinating and mesmerizing. I guess being a billionaire
meant work was a twenty-four-hour, seven-day-a-week obligation.

Not wishing to break his concentration, I
glanced away at the passing buildings, grateful for the opportunity
to consider what I was going to do once I reached Roman’s hotel
room. Would I choose to naively, futilely cling to the idea of a
purely platonic relationship with this enigmatic man or would I
throw all caution aside, give in to my desire and jump his bones
for the next forty-eight hours while we were in Paris together? The
idea was a tempting one.

By the time the sleek luxury vehicle slid
smoothly into the circular driveway of Roman’s hotel, I had come to
two major conclusions: First, I was going to sleep with Roman
Knight. You only live once, right? So why not go all the way? A
passionate, no-holds-barred, scorching hot fling in Paris was
certainly the way to do it. Besides, there was no use in denying to
myself any further—I was unequivocally attracted to the man. He
beguiled and enthralled me like no one I’d met before and I had a
feeling being seduced by Roman would be a once-in-a-lifetime
experience and one not to be missed. Therefore, I was going to
“carpe-freaking-diem” the hell out of the remaining forty-eight
hours I had left in France.

Secondly and probably more importantly, when
the next few days were over, I was going to boldly embrace the next
chapter in my life when I got home. Courtney and Jake’s lives were
changing as they moved forward into impending parenthood, and Uncle
Mike would most likely be on the road with the troupe for the next
year. I was metaphorically standing on the threshold of the rest of
my life.

Though I’d applied for teaching positions
outside of California, my effort was lackluster at best. But to
truly embrace my future as a full-fledged adult, I needed to leave
my friends so they, too, could begin the next chapter of their
lives without me hanging on as the proverbial third wheel. I’d been
toying with the idea of moving on for months now but it wasn’t
until tonight did I finally have the courage to make that decision.
So upon my arrival home, I was going to fearlessly take the next
step in life. But first, I was going to decidedly let loose for
once in my life and allow myself the excitement of a wild,
thrilling new adventure.

My gaze flickered forward and caught Seth’s
in the reflection of the rearview mirror. His dark brown eyes swept
curiously over my face before his attention turned to the valet
attendant who waited outside of the car. Absently, I wondered how
long Seth had worked for Roman. Besides being his driver, why would
a businessman need a bodyguard?

“
Ready?” Roman’s deep
voice drew me from my thoughts and I nodded, but not before I
noticed how tired he looked in the harsh light of the hotel’s
entrance. Small dark circles appeared beneath those inky blue eyes,
revealing fatigue and a hint of exhaustion. The thought disturbed
me for some strange reason.

Clearing my throat, I nodded again. “As
ready as I’ll ever be.”

My comment garnered a raised brow from Roman
but he didn’t reply.

Seth, with my small suitcase in hand,
followed closely behind as Roman ushered me into the suite. With
minimal words spoken, he led me into a bedroom—which I assumed
wasn’t Roman’s as the room was pristine with not a single personal
item to be found. Then, just as quickly, Roman left me alone with
an excuse of some work he needed to attend to.

Seth placed my bag at the
foot of the large queen-sized bed before he silently left me alone
in the room. Distractedly, I wondered where Seth was staying but
then, deciding I was far too tired to think any more, period, I
gathered up my toiletries and took a quick shower in the adjoining
marbled bathroom. After I rinsed the shampoo from my hair, I leaned
back against the cool marble tile to savor the heat of the water
streaming over my skin and inhaled the aromatic smelling shower gel
that was provided.
A girl could get used
to such luxurious amenities.
After I
unpacked, I threw on my mint-green cotton pajama pants and old worn
UCLA t-shirt that was two sizes too big and brushed the tangles out
from my long hair, choosing to leave it loose for bed, and then
decided it was time to go exploring.

Roman’s hotel suite was
almost as dazzling as his chateau in Bordeaux. The sitting room was
decorated in an abundance of rich silks, damasks, and fabrics
shaded in multiple intertwining colors of silver, gray,
purple-plums, and eggplant.
The
eighteenth-century wood paneling that lined the walls reflected a
polished regal gleam and, combined with the room’s lavish antique
furnishings, the suite was the ideal picture of Parisian
luxuriousness.

The breathtaking views from the
floor-to-ceiling windows made Paris and its thousands of twinkling
lights come to life. Sweet scented bouquets and elaborate floral
arrangements adorned numerous glistening marbled-top and
gold-gilded occasional tables, smelling like spring had sprung
indoors. The enormity of the antique dining table with its seating
for eight didn’t even come close to crowding the spacious
apartment, with a formal lounge setting and several additional
clusters of period chairs for casual seating.

I had the sudden urge to snap pictures of
the suite and text them back to Courtney but I quickly squashed
that idea just in case Roman came out of whatever room he was
currently held up in and caught me.

A set of double polished mahogany doors with
gold embossed handles were positioned to the left of the room and
sat slightly ajar. I wondered whether that was the entrance to the
master suite. The door to my bedroom was on the opposite side of
the room, just off the dining room; the only other door leading to
another room was next to mine and with its single door, I guessed
it to be a study or another bathroom. Inhaling a deep breath for
courage, I stepped toward the entrance of the mysterious room to
investigate.

I gasped and covered my
mouth in wonder, the sight before me unbelievably stunning and
seriously too beautiful for words. The mysterious room was indeed
the master suite and it was nothing short of astounding. The plush
silver, gray, purple-plums, and eggplant color scheme was carried
through from the sitting room with the addition of a soft romantic
mauve to the freaking colossal bed that sat pride and center in the
room. It was the biggest bed I had ever seen.
My God, five grown adults could sleep in that bed and still
not be touching one another.

A two-seater settee at the foot of the bed
was adorned in mauve velvet and two plum leather winged-back chairs
were by the gray-marbled fireplace along the left wall. Extensive
views of the Eiffel Tower could be seen from the bank of tall
French doors on the opposite side of the room. More bouquets of
flowers including mauve roses and white orchids embellished the
coffee and bedside tables.

Tentatively, I took a step and then another
farther into what I figured was Roman’s room, gaping in disbelief
once more when I saw the master bathroom. It was bigger than the
room that I’d been given, and at least half the size of the master
bedroom: all gleaming marble, gold-plated fixtures, a shower big
enough for four, and a huge Jacuzzi to boot. The vanity held double
marbled sinks and an embellished beveled mirror spanned the
entirety of one wall. There was even a freaking bidet alongside the
toilet. Thick, plush towels hung on gold-plated towel racks and
even thicker bathrobes hung on the wall by the shower.

So this is the lifestyle of the rich and
famous.

“
See anything you
like?”

“
Shit!” I jumped, startled
at the sound of Roman’s voice as it resonated off the marble close
behind me.

“
Ohmigod,” I breathed. My
hand splayed over my chest in an effort to slow the racing of my
heart. “You scared me half to death.”

He leaned against the doorjamb. His lazy
gaze swept me from head to toe.

“
Finished with work?” I
waited for his eyes to return back to mine.

“
Yes.”

“
Oh, that’s good, I
guess.” My fingers fidgeted restlessly with the hem of my t-shirt
as a weighted silence stretched out between us.

“
Yes it is,” he finally
replied. His gaze continued their lazy perusal of my half-naked
body, but this time around, his eyes darkened beyond their normal
inky blue, until they were almost completely black, intense and
hungry. Suppressing a moan, I watched spellbound as his tongue
darted out and licked across the seam of his lips. And just as
quickly, Roman broke the spell. He retreated from the room and
strode purposefully over to a polished mahogany side table in the
sitting room that displayed several crystal glass decanters filled
with amber liquid and glassware. Following him at a small distance,
I watched as he uncorked one of the crystal decanters. “Would you
like a drink, Charlotte?”

“
No, thank
you.”

“
Very well.” He poured
himself a third. He took a long swig; the long, defined column of
his throat undulated as he swallowed the liquid. My legs wobbled
like jelly; heat infused my cheeks at the sight and the knowing
smirk that played around the edge of Roman’s mouth when his gaze
returned to me told me without a doubt he knew the effect he was
having on me.

The jerk!

“
So, do you often have to
see to work at ten thirty at night?”

He considered the question, and a small
frown appeared on his face. “Unfortunately yes.”

“
Hmm…well, that kind of
sucks.”

“
Yes, it often does,” he
said flatly.

I glanced nervously around the room, at a
loss for anything else to say.

“
Charlotte.” Roman brought
my focus back to him.

“
Yes?”

“
I don’t wish to discuss
my work anymore.” With slow, measured steps, he stalked toward
me.

“
You don’t?”

“
No.”

“
Well…what would you like
to talk about?”

He stopped in front of me and I had to crane
my head back to look to him. The proximity of his body to mine
caused my heartbeat to accelerate and I struggled to temper my
breathing.