Page 19 of Princessa
Chapter 13
Like a couple of crush-stricken high schoolers, Arabella and I talked for nearly the entire night, learning that much more about one another.
Hopes. Dreams. Hobbies—she happened to love giving makeovers to those less fortunate. I shared my love of playing soccer when time allows.
We shared particulars about our families, both losing our grandparents several years ago. I told her my father was born in Andorra and my mother was born in Spain. She told me her mom was born in Cuba and her dad, an American, born in Savannah, Georgia.
Plus meager shit, like our favorite brand of cereal.
In my entire life, I’d never talked on the phone that long with any woman and truthfully, I didn’t want our five-hour-long conversation to end.
Yet, Arabella needed rest, especially if she wanted to make that early-morning train back to Saint Jean de Luz.
Back to me.
Our kiss left me downright spellbound, willing to do whatever it took to spend quality time with Arabella, even if only as friends. Convincing her my situation with The Dragon would be resolved became my mission—one I had to fulfill quickly; a feeling that my time at the resort was nearing an end swirled around in my gut.
“Gaspard texted again, this time claiming to know you’re somewhere in France.” Finn walked into my suite, in jeans, a Tommy Bahama shirt, and of all things, flip-flops. Normally his attire wouldn’t have been worth noticing, except for the fact it was the first time he looked so laid-back. “My guess is we’ve only a few more weeks before this gig is up.”
It didn’t surprise me Gaspard resorted to texting Finn since all his calls and texts to me went unanswered. It also didn’t surprise me he somehow discovered I was in France. “Maybe the bloke’s just fishing for information, waiting to see how you respond?”
Finn trekked over to the ensuite kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea. “Perhaps. But of course I’ve yet to react to any of his texts. They’ve been rightfully ignored. In any case, thanks to the lovely Camille, I’m working with the resort security team now, so rest assured, you’re safe on hotel grounds. Just don’t wander off; lay low and stay out of trouble.”
“ThelovelyCamille?” My brows jumped. “Is there something I should know about you two?”
With a satisfied smirk, Finn stood behind the counter sipping tea. “She tickles my heart.”
My mouth tilted up at his sugary confession.I’d known Finn for what seemed like a billion years and since his wife passed four years ago, he’d yet to catch feelings for anyone else. “Is that why you’re looking all carefree and laid-back? You two going for a leisure stroll around the resort?”
There was no missing his flushed face. “Something like that. Anyway, she and Arabella got back a couple of hours ago, and in ten minutes, I’m planning to meet Camille at a cozy café downstairs.”
Hearing that Arabella was back on resort soil had me mentally jumping up and down, like some charm-stricken fool.Stay cool.
Once Finn set out to meetLovely Camille, I showered and dressed, eager to make my way down to Arabella’s office with hopes she’d like to have a friendly, no-strings-attached lunch with me. When I opened the door to my suite, Arabella was there, standing beside a room-service cart.
“Hey.” My heart twitched at the sight of her. Truth be told, my stupid cock did too. Internally, I advised Spike he’d get no love since Arabella and I were taking the no-chance-you’ll-get-lucky-because-we’re-only-friends route. “I was headed down to your office to invite you out for lunch.”
“Oh? Great minds think alike.” Her amused eyes flicked to the cloth-covered cart that held napkins, two dome-covered plates, two glasses of iced tea, and two sets of cutlery. “I brought food”—she lifted the dome off one of the plates—“Chicken Confit. Last night, over the phone, you mentioned it was your favorite French cuisine.”
The heavenly aroma of chicken and herbs wafted in the air, causing my mouth to water, my stomach to rumble in delight.
“You, uh, thought we’d have lunch…here? In my suite?” With a noticeable gulp, I swallowed ideas of the many things we could get into—the two of us, all alone.
Holy.Fuck.
Shrugging, she seemed to hesitate as though the ideas I had in my head were also being pitched in hers. “Well, I figured we could sit out on your balcony since it overlooks the beach?”
“Sounds perfect.”
As we ate—seated beside one another, observing the view of the beach below—the two of us laughed and chatted as though the five hours we spent over the phone hadn’t been nearly enough. She was so damn captivating, and being next to her became unadulterated torture for every single one of my body parts.
My hands wanted to touch her, arms hold her, mouth devour her, and of course my cock wanted to explore her.
You. Are. Friends.
For what it’s worth,that three-worded kick-in-the-balls chant didn’t help.
“Camille and Finn seem to be enjoying each other’s company,” I said, mainly to get my brain on a track that didn’t lead to ultimate self-destruction.
