The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (7 page)

I’m struck, riveted by this beautiful man, who only twenty four hours ago was a seemingly fictional being in my real-life world, now standing in front of me, flesh and bone. Accepting that this is a reality—before someone pinches me to suggest otherwise—I smile warmly in return.

Reaching the second floor, we come across Stacey and Amira in the kitchen. I take in the very modern galley, with its gleaming black cabinet fronts and wood block countertop. It’s not too small, perfect for a single person. I can truly see myself whipping up a nice meal in this space.

My eyes land on the moderately-sized kitchen island and I feel my cheeks flush crimson, a combination of renewed humiliation and sudden desire, as I’m assailed with images of Alex pumping into me as I lay atop it.

I quickly note Stacey’s wink, catching me surveying the island’s aptness, and I glare back at her in defiance of the pickle she’s put me in. Luckily, Alex has continued on, oblivious to my inner sex-capade visuals and their subsequent effect on me.

Following him down the hallway, we enter the bedroom. It’s much larger than one would expect in an English flat; housing a large king size bed covered in white linens and bright orange throw pillows. It’s a very feminine, inviting space. Although, right now, having Alex standing beside me in such an intimate room—combined with my lewd kitchen island thoughts moments ago—I feel incredibly uncomfortable, unable to control my accelerated breaths.

I can’t help but stare at the bed, imagining the many lascivious things he and I could do on it. Delicious, lip-biting visuals that for a moment make me forget that he’s actually standing by my side. The swift reminder of his proximity increases my agitation, heightening my breathing further.

Suddenly sensing his gaze, I look towards him, struck by the latent desire flashing in his blue eyes. “I think the bedroom is adequate. Wouldn’t you agree?” his tone is sensual.

Holy crap.
If his expression—or sexually charged question—is any indication, it’s clear this man wants to do naughty things to me.
And I really, really, really want to let him . . .

But . . . I won’t.
I’m in the exact same boat I was in last night. As badly as I want this man, I refuse to cause myself undue heartache. I need to stay my course and forget how much of a hot mess he makes me. Self-preservation . . .
Ugh.

“Why don’t you join Stacey and I on the terrace,” Amira calls from the kitchen, saving me. Thank God
. . . There’s a terrace?
I hadn’t noticed.

Of course you didn’t notice you hussy, you were thinking of shagging Alex on the island
—my inner actress bites; I purse my lips at the reminder.

Smiling, Alex finally breaks our gaze, shaking his head a little before leading me back towards the kitchen, through the double French doors to the balcony.

The roof top terrace is small but quaint. There’s a bistro table with a built-in nook in the corner, covered in light grey cushions. With Stacey and Amira occupying one side, I’m forced to sit next to Alex. I can’t handle being this close to him. Due to his sheer size, he takes up a good portion of the settee, our legs unavoidably brushing each other.

“So, what do you think?” Amira asks, pulling my thoughts from Alex’s legs.

“You have a beautiful home,” I reply, somewhat breathlessly.

“Alex speaks highly of you, so it’s yours if you want it. I think it’s a great idea for you to sublet rather than leaving it unoccupied as I’d planned. I don’t leave for Paris until the latter part of next week, and I return in six months. Will that be an issue?”

“No, no,” Stacey pipes up, “ . . . six months is perfect. And I can arrange something with the hotel, Aby, so you can stay on a bit longer. Maybe not for the full two weeks, but we can work something out.”

I’m trying my hardest to ignore the heat emanating from Alex’s leg against mine. It’s messing with my concentration. “What is the rent, Amira?”

“Oh, well, I’m not entirely sure,” Amira looks towards Alex momentarily. “Nothing too crazy, since I’d planned on leaving it empty anyway. I have no doubt we can come to a suitable agreement. So, do we have a deal?”

Looking to Stacey, I take in her reassuring smile, before turning back to Amira. “It’s a deal.”

“I’LL GIVE YOU a call to confirm when you can expect the delivery of the lease agreement. I’ll get your number from Alex?” Amira asks.

My gaze darts to Alex, his eyes filled with knowing amusement. He doesn’t have my number . . .
And I have no intentions of giving it to him.
“Ummm . . . no, you can reach me at the hotel.”

Thanking Amira profusely, we say our good-byes, Alex following behind us as we make our way onto the front sidewalk.

“Aby, before you go . . . Can I speak with you for a moment?” he asks, turning his gaze to Stacey in silent request to give us some privacy.

“Sure thing. I’ll just wait for the cab across the street,” Stacey smiles, walking away.

I can’t avoid looking at his gorgeous face any longer—at least not if he wants to have a conversation.

“Are you happy with the flat?” he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans, almost nervously.

“It’s great. Thank you again for thinking of me. I wouldn’t have found it if it weren’t for you.”

“It was my pleasure.”

That’s it? That’s all he wants to say?

Seconds pass in silence.

He’s shuffling around on the sidewalk, looking everywhere but at me.
What’s the matter with him?

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

What? Hold the phone.
This can’t be happening. The events in the last twenty-four hours have been insane. Dream-like. Again, the man has rendered me absolutely speechless.

“Please. I need to see you again.”

I want so badly to say yes. It’s sitting on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t get it out. I can’t have dinner with this man. I can’t pretend that he’s anyone other than the famous actor that he is. As much as I want to. It’s depressing. I’m going to turn him down. Not because I want to, but because I should. I can’t fall for him. I won’t fall for him. He will simply break my heart.

“It may sound crazy, but I think you feel this—whatever
this
is—too,” he gestures back and forth between us.

Damn straight I feel something for him. I feel hot, needy, and uncontrollably nervous. I feel euphoric and dazed. I feel wanton. He inspires a sexual need in me so deep that I would do just about anything for him. To him. Yet, I won’t. I can’t deny what a bad idea it is to see him again. I’m not strong enough to pick myself back up after he’s gone. I’ve had too much heartache already and a new one is not part of my plans. “Alex, I . . . ”

Abruptly stepping closer, he cups my cheek in his hand. My breath hitches instantly, my denial lodging in my throat.

“Say yes,” he whispers, staring deeply into my eyes.

Oh God . . .
Am I crazy to say no?
Will I regret this?
Of course I will!
But, I
have
to. Covering his hand with mine, I slowly pull it away from my face, “I’m sorry. I want to say yes, but I just . . . I can’t.”

“Please. Give me one night. Just one.” Flashing me his mega-watt smile, he takes my hand, squeezing it gently.

One night.
Of
course he only wants one night. I’ve known it all along, and that’s exactly why I’m saying no
.
“I’m sorry, I can’t. Stacey is leaving in the morning and it’s my last night with her.”

“Ok, tomorrow then.”

“I just don’t know,” I stare down at my feet. I know if I look him in the eye, I’m a goner. His persistence—however flattering—is making it even harder for me to deny him.

It’s beyond surreal that I have one of the most famous men in the world asking
me
out on a date. Well, I assume it’s a date. Or a prelude to him getting laid. And I plan on saying no. I
need
to say no. I’m no match for him. No matter how damn sexy he is. I need to be strong.

Jeez, grow some balls and go out with him!
—even my inner actress is beguiled.

“Ready to go?” Stacey interrupts, leaning on the open door of a taxi.

Looking towards her, I thank the heavens above for her prompt rescue from this incredible trial of strength. Mustering courage, I look back into his eyes. “Goodbye, Alex. Thank you for . . . for everything,” I offer a small smile, making my way towards the cab.

Shouting a quick good-bye, Stacey slides inside.

“Aby,” Alex calls.

I pause, resting my arm leisurely on the door, turning to face him one final time.

“Just think about it?”

Taking in his final plea, I’m unable to resist his mesmerizing blue eyes. “Okay . . . I’ll think about it,” I surrender.

With a parting smile, I sit in the taxi, watching his triumphant expression as we pull away.
Oh, what have I gotten myself into?

TUMMIES FULL WITH room service filet mignon, we lounge on the bed adorned in pajamas watching
Notting Hill.

“Exactly how long do you plan on gawking at that magazine?” Stacey questions as I flip through the
Glamour UK
I’d purchased on our way back.

“What?” I feign innocence, “I haven’t read all the articles yet.”

“Whatever. You’re spending more time staring at that damn magazine than you are watching the movie. Is the irony of the storyline too much? And don’t even try to tell me you bought it for any other reason than Alexander Tate’s face taking up the entire cover. You haven’t even looked at any pages other than the ones he’s on,” she grabs it. “Jesus, the man is seriously hot. It’s no wonder they chose him as the
Sexiest Man.
”

“I know. It’s amazing that he looks just as good in person. If not better.”

“Well, honey, treasure this mag cause it’s the closest you’re ever gonna get to seeing him again. Silly, silly girl. You’ve added another one to the ‘what the hell were you thinking list,’” she hands it back to me. “I’m actually surprised the pages haven’t fallen out with the amount of times you’ve turned them back and forth.”

Releasing a sigh, I attempt to ignore her depressing comments, leaning back on the pillow to continue ogling my new favorite obsession—Alex Tate’s face; the last thing I remember before succumbing to sleep, magazine resting on my chest.

MY HEART BROKE a little seeing Stacey go this morning. Adamant that I not cab with her to the airport only to cab back on my own, she forced me to say goodbye in our room—which I was grateful for in the end given the waterworks that commenced the minute she walked out the door. How embarrassing it would have been to break down in the middle of the airport.

I know it won’t be long before I see her again, but it still hurts. Though she reassured me that she’ll be back in a month or so, it seems so far away. Spending the entire week together had been incredibly comforting. When she left, the loneliness hit me like a ton of bricks. What had seemed like simply a mini-vacation with my best friend, now feels like the real life permanency it was meant to be. It had been a wonderful, though brief, distraction from the life altering decision to move here.

To make matters worse, my loneliness now leaves me with lingering thoughts of Alex and his parting words.
He needs to see me again. He just wants one night.