How to Resist Prince Charming (17 page)

Lenna turned and realized she’d been sitting cheek to cheek with him as they both gaped like children at a candy store.

“Haven’t you ever been to Paris before?”

For an answer, he shook his head. “Never.”

Shrugging, Lenna grabbed his hand, squeezed, and went back to peering out the glass, even more pleased to be sharing this moment with him.

She had taken him for the rich kid type that spent summer breaks traveling Europe and the like. But she rather liked the fact they were both experiencing Paris for the first time together. It made everything all that more special.

When the limo finally stopped in front of a huge, brightly-lit building, Lenna’s jaw dropped. “Is this our hotel?”

“This is our hotel,” Braxton confirmed.

He hopped out of the car as soon as their chauffeur opened the door so he could assist her out. Lenna grinned at his waiting hand and took his fingers. As soon as she was on her feet, she tipped her head back and gawked unabashedly at their accommodations.

The building was long, stretching further than a normal American city block. It was five stories high with a huge clock above the entrance, looming a good story tall by itself. The arched entry under it had to rise at least two and half stories. As Braxton started toward the arch, Lenna swallowed and hurried into step behind him.

An attendant opened the door for them, and Lenna smiled, murmuring, “
Merci
,” as she passed.

Oh, wow. She’d just spoken French. She was going to get to use her French!

Hurrying her pace, Lenna moved closer to Braxton’s side and tightened her grip on his hand. He glanced at her and winked.

“This is, like, a five star hotel, isn’t it?” she had to ask.

“No, of course not.” Braxton eyes glittered with a devilish gleam. “It’s only four.”

Trying to imitate his air of unconcern, Lenna tossed her hair over her shoulder, though inside, she had to swallow back a squeal of excitement.

“Only four, hmm. Well, goodness, Braxton. What’s wrong with you? Couldn’t you get reservations at a five star?”

With a grin, Braxton shook his head and muttered, “Smart ass.”

They walked to the concierge desk and Braxton sent the man waiting there a polite nod. “Hello. Do you speak English?”

The concierge answered, “But of course, Monsieur.”

“Good. I have reservations for Farris. Braxton Farris.”

“One moment.” The gentleman turned his attention to a computer screen next to him.

Lenna nudged Braxton in the elbow. “Don’t you speak French?”

Out of the side of his mouth, he murmured, “Not a word.” After a pause, he added, “Thank God you decided to tag along, huh? I might’ve gotten lost this weekend.”

Gasping, Lenna watched him smile at the concierge as the man returned.

“Here is your room key, Monsieur Farris. I’ll see that your luggage is brought up.”

“Thank you,” Braxton said, taking their key card. “May I have a wakeup call at eight?”

“Certainly, Monsieur.”

* * * *

Braxton and Lenna stayed in the hotel on their first night in Paris. They had too much fun exploring their fancy suite to go out just yet. Plus it was late, ten o’clock their time and four a.m. Paris time.

When they finally tucked themselves into the single, king-sized bed, it was nearly five in the morning. Lenna didn’t even stir when Braxton’s wakeup call rang three hours later.

Utterly exhausted, he dragged himself out of bed and took a long, hot shower. As he dressed in a suit and tie, he watched Lenna sleep. She looked so peaceful and content, a soft smile spread across his face. He couldn’t regret being awake when simply seeing her lie there like an innocent angel was a reward in itself. The problem he encountered was leaving her.

Digging the gift he’d brought with him out of his suitcase, he set it on his pillow. He jotted down a note and put it on top of the wrapped box. After smiling one more time at her sweet, innocent slumber, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead. When she continued to lie there like the dead, he grinned and impulsively touched her cheek.

“Goodbye.” He brushed a piece of hair off her temple. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

Needing to make his first meeting at nine, he finally left.

* * * *

Noon came before Lenna stirred. She groaned, sore and travel weary. When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring at a sculpted and ornamented ceiling. She blinked a few times before she recalled the past evening’s events.

She was in Paris!

“Braxton,” she called, sitting up and looking around the room. When he didn’t answer, a small frown puckered her face. “Brax?”

She glanced at his side of the bed only to discover a wrapped box and note lying on his abandoned pillow. Reaching for the note, she ignored the gift and read impatiently.

~~

You looked too peaceful to wake. I have meetings until five, but I left you a gift I’m confident will keep you busy until I return. Don’t have too much fun touring the city without me. Be back at the hotel by seven. Dinner is at eight.

Enjoy, Brax
.

~~

Disheartened to realize he was already gone and even more crestfallen he wouldn’t return until after five, Lenna glanced at the gold-wrapped box. Not too enthused about a gift, she peeled off the wrapping, wishing Braxton was present instead.

The day was going to be no fun without him. She didn’t want to tour Paris alone. She didn’t even have a camera to take any—

Lenna gasped...and then threw back her head and laughed.

It was official. The man thought of everything. Inside her unwrapped box was a digital camera so she could preserve her Paris trip forever.

* * * *

Lenna had lunch in a French café. She sat at a small table outside under a veranda and breathed in the cool February air. Too excited for the chill in the breeze to bother her, she gazed around her with her red cheeks and took in everything that happened.

It was thrilling to order a meal in French. The waiter hadn’t given her one strange look either. So, she must’ve done it correctly, though a woman at the table next to her did lean over and ask if she was American due to her accent.

After eating, she went straight to the Eiffel Tower. Lenna didn’t care if that made her a tacky tourist. She wanted to be inside the oh-so famous piece of architecture. Braxton had also left her some euros so she was able to buy a few trinkets in the gift shop.

When she went up the tower as far as she could go, she looked down at the grand city below, wishing she’d waited on Braxton so she could’ve experienced the view with him. But he had business to attend to and said he’d wanted her to have fun. So, she continued her day, touring.

The next place Lenna went was the
Musée du Louvre
. She’d intended to walk the entire way, hoping to experience Paris with all five senses, not just see it out a car window. But she only made it ten blocks before the freezing wind and her aching muscles made her give in; she hailed a cab.

The Louvre Museum was huge. She couldn’t believe how grand...and old it was. As if she’d just stepped into history, Lenna explored with reverent leisure. But the place was bigger than she’d anticipated, and Lenna had to skip most of the exhibits in order to return to the hotel by five.

Braxton had told her seven, but she wanted to be there when he arrived.

She’d worn her gift camera out by the time she finally made her way back to the
Hôtel Duc de Sáint-Simon
. She’d taken a picture of everything she saw. And she’d seen so much. Every statue, fountain, and exotic building had been caught by her lens. Lenna had even snapped a few shots of passing strangers.

She was sitting crossed-legged on the hotel bed, reviewing her day on the digital screen of her camera when Braxton returned. Lenna looked up as the door opened. She grinned, her heart lifting at the mere sight of him. Unable to help herself, she lifted the camera and snapped off a shot. Then she noticed the exhaustion on his face, lining his eyes and mouth with deep creases.

Braxton sent her a tired smile and tugged his tie loose. Dropping the briefcase he’d carried in, he mumbled, “Hi,” as he trudged toward her. Then he flopped face-first onto the mattress beside her and buried his nose in the sheets.

“Hi,” Lenna returned in a worried tone. She rubbed his back. “Bad day?”

He managed to lift his face and meet her gaze. “Not the first part,” he admitted. “I met my client, and we formed a pretty good rapport. But the second half of the day,” he rolled his eyes, “was a complete waste of time.”

Groaning, he sat up and scooted closer to her. “I thought I was going to be able to talk about our new line of mufflers. I even had a nifty little speech ready and everything. But all they did was call my name and have me stand up. Everybody clapped, and I sat back down.”

Running a hand through his hair and causing the dark mass to stand on end, Braxton went on. “I can’t believe I sat there through four hours of
crap
for that. I listened to a bunch of bullshit that had nothing whatsoever to do with Farris Industries... and all for a five second ovation of applause.” He snorted.

Lenna hugged him. “I’m sorry.”

He mumbled something incoherent and cuddled into her until his cheek landed on her lap. Closing his eyes, he let out a long, exhausted sigh, reminding her how little sleep he’d gotten.

Something nurturing sprang awake inside her. She wanted to make him all better again. After wiggling her fingers past his loose tie and undoing the top button of his shirt, she soothed his tousled dark hair back into place. “You really care about making this project work, don’t you?”

He opened one eye. “Of course.”

To hide her embarrassed flush, she leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I’m sorry, I just...I don’t know. You spoke so highly of your last job. But you’re putting so much time and effort into this one.”

Eyebrows crinkled as if confused by her confusion, he murmured, “Well, yeah. My dad started this company from nothing. He put his entire life into it. He loved it. And I love him, so I’m trying to honor his legacy as best as I can.”

Swallowing the lump on her throat, Lenna began to play with his hair. But shame tightened her chest with the desire to cry. His goal was so noble and altruistic. Yet she knew her father was impeding his objective. Plus her secret relationship with him was straining everything on top of that.

“So,” he asked, smiling for her benefit. “How was
your
day?”

Since he looked sincerely curious, Lenna forced a thrilled grin. “I loved it.”

Braxton’s eyes glittered as he sat up to rest his weight on his elbow. “Good. I hoped you would.” He leaned forward and kissed her softly.

But Lenna pulled back to add, “It would’ve been better if I’d experienced it with you, though.”

“Then I have good news. We don’t have to be apart for the rest of the trip.”

“Really?” she asked, looking skeptical.

Braxton returned the serious look and leaned his forehead against hers. “Really. They canceled the short conference I was supposed to attend in the morning, thank God, so there are no more meetings. I
am
taking my new client to dinner tonight, but I was hoping you’d accompany me to that.”

She brightened, flattered he thought her worthy enough. “Sure. I’d love to.”

He pressed his lips lightly to hers. But when she went to deepen it, he pulled back. “Wait. If we start that, I won’t want to stop. Tell me everything you did today first.”

“Oh!” she said, excited to share. “Here. I took pictures. Thank you for the camera, by the way. It was perfect.”

Braxton nodded distractedly, already flipping through her camera’s library. When he saw snapshots of the Eiffel Tower, his shoulders slumped. “Oh, man. You already went.”

Lifting her face, Lenna said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted to—”

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I was just... never mind.”

“No,” she said, her face still filled with concern. “We can go again tomorrow.”

“But there’s so much you probably want to see. I don’t want you to have to repeat—”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“Lenna,” he said in a warning voice. “We’re not going.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. We are. I wanted to go with you, anyway.”

Braxton gave up the argument with a sigh and forced her to keep showing him the pictures she’d taken.

“And here is the
Musée du Louvre
,” she said a few shots later.

“What’s that?” he asked, frowning at the small screen. Lenna sent him an amazed look.

When he finally lifted his eyes from the picture, he caught the expression. “What?”

“You’ve never heard of The Louvre? It’s only, like, one of the most famous museums in the world.”

“Oh,” was his casual reply.

Lenna snorted as his blasé answer. “The Louvre,” she repeated. “You know, the museum that holds the Mona Lisa?”

Finally, his eyes lit with recognition. “Ohhh. Wow, I didn’t know that painting was in France.”

Lenna once again found herself staring at him in disbelieving shock. “Where did you think it was?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. In the United States, I guess. Probably at the Smithsonian or some such place.”

Lenna rolled her eyes, but an amused gleam lit her face. “You are
so
American.”

“And proud of it,” he answered, winking.

* * * *

For dinner, Lenna wore the one fancy dress she’d packed. She started to worry it was too plain when she slipped it on. But as soon as she stepped from the bathroom, she realized it was perfect, mostly because of Braxton’s reaction to her when he saw her in it. He lifted his face and froze.

“You look...” He shook his head as if to clear the dirty thoughts from his brain. Then his eyes lifted to hers. “I’m going to have to kick a lot of French ass tonight to keep you at my side.”

She laughed and thanked him.

And she kept thanking him.

Whenever he opened a door for her or whenever he stepped aside to let her go first, she murmured her oh-so appreciative thanks. As soon as they entered the restaurant where they would be eating, she paused and glanced around the waiting area.