Page 23 of That Prince is Mine
Michel:
If you let the front desk know you’re here, they’ll show you up to my suite.
Emma:
Oh. Okay. See you soon.
At the risk of sounding like an eager fool, Michel tapped out what was on his mind.
Michel:
I can’t wait to see you.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Emma had visited the hotel café a couple of times even before her series of unfortunate matseons, but she had never actually seen any of the hotel’s accommodations. She had no reason to stay overnight since she only lived forty minutes away. And there was also the small matter of the hotel being a wee bit out of her price range.
When Michel invited her to dinner at his place, her heart had clamored to exit her chest. His place? Her mind had immediately conjured breathless, sweaty scenarios, but she’d dragged her thoughts back, instinctively knowing he didn’t have ulterior motives for the invitation. She honestly couldn’t say whether the little dip in her stomach had been relief or disappointment.
His next message had revealed that he was actually a guest at the hotel, and her heart had plummeted at the reminder that he didn’t live here. But her heart rallied, remembering that he was a visiting professor at USC, which meant he wasn’t leaving the next day or anything. By the time he revealed that he was staying in a suite in one of the most luxurious hotels in LA, her heart couldn’t do much but lie down on a fainting couch to recover from the back-to-back acrobatics it had performed.
He was rich—really rich. Red lights had flashed through her mind as the word incompatible rang in her ears. Auntie Soo never would’ve matched Emma up with someone that rich. She’d stopped herself short at the thought.
Michel had asked her out on a date, not proposed marriage to her. Her date with Michel had nothing to do with marriage. She was going out on one date with him—for fun—because she deserved to do something nice for herself.
If Emma were to marry, and she had assured her godmother that she would, she still intended to choose her future husband through the Madame Ddu Method. A love match wasn’t for her. Without a solid, common background, she would have nowhere safe to land when love faded.
Emma found Michel unbelievably attractive, which meant she shouldn’t trust her instincts when it came to him. Case in point, going on this date with him was impulsive and irresponsible. But she fully recognized that, and she didn’t intend for it to happen again.
She would let herself have this one date as a treat for herself, then focus on her matseons. It was actually a very clever and efficient plan. If she didn’t go out with him, she would waste time wondering what it would be like. This way, she would spend one evening with him and he would be out of her system.
When Paul Lim texted her soon after their matseon, Emma hadn’t outright refused his invitation to go out to lunch with him this weekend. It had more to do with not wanting to disappoint Auntie Soo than any real desire to see him again, but at least the thought of a second date with him didn’t make her want to blow her nose in a cloth napkin.
Emma smiled as she pulled her car up to the valet, remembering the shared laughter with Michel over her antics. After handing over her keys, she caught a brief glimpse of her reflection on the sliding glass doors leading into the hotel lobby. She’d chosen a midnight-blue, one-shoulder dress for a confidence boost. It hugged her body in all the right places and stopped a few inches below her knees, so she felt sexy and powerful without feeling too exposed. Her strappy Manolo heels and ruby-red lipstick added to the sexy and powerful theme.
She might have overdone it. They were having dinner at his place, after all. He could very well be waiting for her in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, not that he would look any less devastating. But Emma stopped second-guessing herself when the distinguished-looking gentleman at the front desk straightened to his full height as she approached.
“How may I be of service?” he asked with a formal incline of his head.
“I’m here to see Michel Chevalier.” She sounded cooler than she’d intended as renewed nerves slammed into her.
“Of course.” The man didn’t seem to mind in the slightest as he beamed at her. “Please allow me to show you to the elevators.”
“I could find…” Emma trailed off as he joined her at her side with lightning speed.
“This way, please.” He stretched his arm forward, and she had no choice but to start walking.
When he led her past the main elevator bank to a small alcove to the side, she realized she wouldn’t have been able to find her own way. He called the single elevator nestled in the private nook, and the doors opened immediately, revealing a rich, wood-paneled interior with gold trimmings. She stepped inside at his beckoning, and the man reached toward the elevator panel with a key card. Once it beeped, he pressed the button marked “PS” out of the four total buttons on the panel.
“I hope you have an exceptional evening,” he said with another bow of his head.
Emma felt nervous laughter bubbling up inside her. She wanted to look good tonight, but she definitely overshot it if the hotel staff was treating her like royalty. With a brisk shake of her head, she got her nerves under control and said, “Thank you.”
After a fast, dizzying ascent, the elevator opened up to a posh foyer as big as her living room, adorned with champagne-colored wallpaper and burgundy carpeting. Michel wasn’t rich. He was filthy rich. In all honesty, she might have bolted back to the lobby if he hadn’t been waiting for her on the other side of the elevator with a heart-stopping grin. She bit down on her bottom lip with a soundless whimper. He looked irresistibly gorgeous in his navy suit.
“Emma,” he said in a rush of breath. A beat passed as his appreciative gaze traveled over her—making heat spread through her body—then he stretched his hand out, palm side up. “Shall we?”
She hesitated as her gaze darted to the foyer behind him, intimidated by the opulence despite herself. His smile dimmed and uncertainty crept into his expression, and a pang of regret spread through her chest. She had a feeling his unguarded grin wasn’t something that often made an appearance. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand in his and stepped out of the elevator.
