Spiraling Deception (8 page)

My appraisal of her was
proved right when she flipped her long flowing locks over one
shoulder, licked the vibrant red of her lips and she flashed
another
come-hither
smile at him.

Oh man, was she for real?

Every girl on the planet
knew the
hair-flip
combined with the
lip-lick
and the
peekaboo
ta-tas
was universal code for
Let’s get naked and fuck each other’s brains
out
.

“
Good morning, Mr.
Knight,” she purred. The sultry breathlessness of her voice made my
eyes roll. “May I offer you something to drink, sir?”

Ohmigod! The woman actually batted her
eyelashes at him and it wouldn’t have surprised me if she followed
it up by jumping in Roman’s lap. Involuntarily, my eyes narrowed
into squinty slits to shoot her a death glare and my teeth ground
together in irritation.

Wait! What was I doing?

Taking a calming breath, I mentally chided
myself. There was nothing for me to be jealous about: Roman Knight
wasn’t my boyfriend, or anything else for that matter, so why
should I care?

Muttering something into the phone, Roman
held one long finger up toward her before he ended the call and
looked directly at me. “We’ll have two coffees, thank you, Megan,
and would you bring Miss Gilmore some breakfast as soon as we take
off.”

Megan, the overtly flirtatious stewardess,
swung her gaze at me. “Of course.” Her gaze wasn’t as friendly
anymore. Borderline hostility would’ve been a better description
and I pursed my lips in order to suppress a smile. “We have a
selection of pastries and fruits, or I can offer you eggs and toast
if you’d prefer.”

“
Er, fruit will be fine.
Thank you.” I cheerfully grinned at her.

“
Certainly,” she replied
curtly. And although her tone was professional, it was frosty, the
suggestive purr most definitely absent.

Megan swung her attention to Jake and
Courtney, taking their orders before she strut back to the galley
at the rear of the plane just as Phil, the pilot, announced over
the intercom for us to buckle up and ran through several safety
instructions.

Within minutes, the engines roared to life,
the jet effortlessly taking off, and we were up in the air. Even I
had to admit that there was something to be said about bypassing
long lines at airports and navigating security checks, not to
mention this plane was definitely first class all the way. No
clambering crowds and hard, narrow seats.

“
First time in a private
plane?” Roman pulled my gaze from the view out the
window.

I cleared my throat and nodded. “Yes, it is.
I have to admit, this is a very cool way to travel. Thank you for
the ride to Paris, by the way.”

“
You’re very welcome,
Charlotte.” His answering grin was a little mischievous, making him
look at least several years younger than I suspected he actually
was.

“
Charli,” I corrected.
That damn little flutter in my stomach started up again at the way
he stared at me.

“
Charli.” He nodded
conciliatorily. “So what are your plans while you are in
Paris?”

“
Well, after we check in
to our hotel, I guess we’ll start on some sightseeing. It’s going
to be hard to fit in everything we want to see in only two
days.”

He nodded in agreement and then ran his
thumb across his bottom lip, as if he was contemplating something.
“When do you fly out?” he asked after several moments of
silence.

“
The morning after
tomorrow.”

“
Hmm,” he murmured, and
then pulled out his cell to look at something.

I gazed once more out of the plane’s window.
We were flying low enough that I could still make out the sweeping
scenery from below.

The sound of Roman’s voice drew my attention
back to him. “I know of this quaint little restaurant on the
Champs-Élysées that I’m positive you’d enjoy. It is renowned for
its superb traditional French cuisine and has an unobstructed view
of the Arc de Triomphe. Unfortunately, I have meetings to attend
to, both today and tomorrow and a business dinner this evening.
However, I’m free tomorrow evening. I’d like to take you to dinner
tomorrow night, Charli.”

“
Oh…uh…” I sputtered
hesitantly. He’d completely taken me off guard and immediately my
eyes swung to Courtney and Jake, who were deep in their own private
conversation.

“
Charli?”

I bit my lip before I looked back at
him.

Once we arrived in Paris, I expected it
would be the last I’d ever see of Roman Knight, and part of me
couldn’t wait. He was infuriatingly arrogant, offensively
aggressive, and way too full of himself. And that stunt he pulled
last night—the man made my blood boil.

But this morning, he’d been actually
pleasant, with the exception of the limo ride, of course. And his
genuine concern over me missing breakfast was surprisingly
sweet.

I could feel his impatient gaze on me. I
held up my hand to signal him to give me a moment as I stared out
the window to consider his invitation.

He was overbearingly cocky and deliberately
intimidating but for some weird reason, he intrigued me. Although
at times annoying, his touch also made me feel giddy, breathless,
and desirable. There was no denying we had chemistry between us.
And that kiss last night…wow…that kiss. Absentmindedly, I ran my
forefinger along my bottom lip. That kiss we shared last night
was…hot. It stirred feelings in me that I didn’t even know
existed.

However, spending any more time in the
presence of Roman Knight would result with me either falling
recklessly into bed with him or being arrested for assault and
battery. But when it boiled down to it, the thought of never seeing
him again literally gave me a sharp pang of pain in my chest.

“
Charlotte,” he called
once more. This time there was no mistaking the impatient tone to
his voice.

Deciding to test the waters, I said, “Well,
I’m not too sure what we have planned but I could ask Jake and
Court if they’d like—”

“
Let me be clear,” he
interrupted in a low voice as he leaned toward me. “I wasn’t
offering to take the three of you out. I’m taking you to dinner,
Princess—alone.”

He sat back in the chair but those beautiful
midnight-blue eyes continued to stare steadfastly on mine, both
challenging and enthralling me at the same time. Then his lips
twitched ever so slightly, as if a pleasant thought suddenly
occurred to him. “Besides, by accompanying me to dinner, you’d be
giving the two lovebirds over there”—he nodded toward Jake and
Courtney, and my gaze followed, observing the two making goo-goo
eyes at each other—“some alone time to enjoy a romantic evening
together before they leave. Correct?”

Damn!

The man could also add “master manipulator”
to his long list of attributes.

I had already decided to find a way to give
Courtney and Jake some alone time together while we were in Paris,
especially when I knew in a few short months from now, romantic
time would be practically nonexistent with a newborn.

My gaze swung back to Roman, who had his
brows raised in expectation. Little did he know, I’d already made
up my mind to accept his dinner invitation several moments ago; I
was just letting him to work for it.

“
Sure…why not?” I conceded
flippantly, noting smugly that he looked mildly surprised by my
easy acceptance. Before he could say anything else, Miss Sex Kitten
came waltzing down the aisle, silver tray in hand, laden with four
white ceramic coffee cups with a Knight Industries logo written in
black script on them and filled to the brim with delicious smelling
coffee. She also had a plate of French pastries and an assortment
of berries and melons. My mouth watered at the sight.

“
Here you are, sir,” Megan
purred. She bent so low that her ample cleavage was all I could see
as she placed his coffee cup down on the side table. To Roman’s
credit, he didn’t appear to notice.

Next, she placed down my coffee and the
assortment of fruit. Her tone was notably cooler when she said my
name. “Miss Gilmore.”

My answering scowl only served to make me
feel silly and immature, so I picked up my coffee and took a sip,
catching Roman’s gaze as I swallowed.

“
She’s not even in the
same league,” he whispered and then gifted me with a wink. His
attention then moved to the vibrating cell on the table.

Chapter Six

Once we landed in Paris, Roman and I
exchanged phone numbers, along with the address of my hotel and a
time for him to pick me up the next evening for our dinner date
(seven o’clock sharp, he informed me with succinctness), and then
Jake, Courtney, and I were whisked away in another shiny black
limousine to our hotel, courtesy of Roman.

I watched from the vehicle’s rear window as
Roman gracefully enfolded himself into the backseat of a sleek
Mercedes town car as the very muscular, if not a little scary, man
who Roman briefly introduced us all to as Seth, his personal
driver, closed the door behind him.

Seth appeared to be in his
mid-thirties with a blond buzz-styled military haircut, dark brown
eyes that openly warned
don’t mess with
me
and a wicked-looking scar that ran down
the left side of his cheek.
Yikes!

With a slight nod of his head and a terse
grunt of acknowledgment, Seth said nothing further to the three of
us. My eyes bugged when I caught sight of the head of what appeared
to be an intricate snake tattoo peeking out from the collar of his
shirt when he turned to retrieve my bag from the aircraft. I had a
suspicion Seth was more than Roman’s personal driver—a congenial,
cap-wearing chauffeur Seth was not.

Roman had offered an apology at having to
leave so abruptly; his first meeting for the day was located in the
opposite direction of our hotel and thus the reason for the two
vehicles that awaited us upon landing at the small private
airfield. Of course, Roman’s thoughtful gesture by arranging a
vehicle to transport us to the hotel prompted Courtney to wax on
and on and on all the way to our hotel. She gushed with how
thoughtful he was, how good-looking, how accomplished, blah, blah,
blah, which led to numerous eye rolls from both Jake and me.

By the end of the ride, I’d had enough and
snapped, “Okay, Court, I get it! I love you, babe, but enough with
the Roman Knight fan club, please. I’m begging you.”

My exasperated plea garnered a, “Hear, hear.
I second that, Court. For fuck’s sake, enough about Knight
already,” by an equally exasperated Jake.

Court’s responding huff of
indignation was a little funny but for the remainder of the
journey, she didn’t mention Roman’s name again.
Thank God!

The limo dropped us off at our
accommodations, an elegant building that was transformed into a
hotel in the early 1920s and had a distinctly Parisian style and
charm to it. The hotel’s location was in one of the most beautiful
areas of Paris, according to our travel agent, and within a
ten-minute walk from the Arc de Triomphe, the Champs-Élysées, and
the Eiffel Tower.

Courtney squealed in delight and jumped up
and down as soon as we’d entered the hotel. “I can’t believe we’re
actually in Paris!”

“
I know, right? Paris!” I
squealed back.

To all our surprise, when we handed over our
confirmed reservation voucher, the hotel manager announced in
heavily accented English that we’d been given a complimentary
upgrade from the standard hotel rooms we had booked. The upgrade
was to two luxury suites and included buffet breakfasts for the
duration of our stay. The news brought on another round of squeals
from both Courtney and me. Poor Jake, used to our fits of girlie
enthusiasm over the years, just rolled his eyes but when his mouth
curved into a wide grin, I knew he was just as thrilled. We were
all on tight budgets for this trip, so for our rooms to be
unexpectedly upgraded and breakfast thrown in was an awesome
windfall.

After we dropped our bags off in our
respective suites—which, by the way, were totally amazing—we
freshened up and then made our way to the pick-up point for the red
double-decker hop-on/hop-off sightseeing bus. We’d booked a two-day
pass and according to the bus timetable, the route covered all the
major attractions on a revolving two-hour loop.

Paris was all I’d imagined and so much more.
The city was simply extraordinary, from the impressive architecture
to the beautifully winding cobblestone streets. No matter where we
looked, as we rode the open-aired bus, every sight was
mind-blowingly more spectacular than the last. The day couldn’t
have been more glorious: the sun was shining—not even a cloud was
present in the sky as we rode from one grand historic monument to
the next to hop out to take photos and walk around before we caught
the next bus.

First stop was the iconic Eiffel Tower. We
took countless photos, and then rode the decoratively painted
wooden horses on the charmingly antique carousel. We followed that
with lunch, which for me consisted of the most mouthwateringly
delicious cherry-flavored jelly crepe in the world. Then we were
back on the bus to visit the world’s most famous museum, the
Louvre, followed by a photo stop at the magnificent Notre Dame. The
sheer size and beauty of the Gothic cathedral literally took my
breath away—it was that impressive.

Two days in Paris would never be enough time
to experience all the incredible splendor and vast history this
amazingly romantic city had to offer.