Sitting up, she looked across the open suite. But on the other side of the large, spacious room, the sofa was empty.
Last night, the manager had regretfully informed them that all the two-bedroom suites were occupied. “But,” he’d added hopefully, “we do have your regular room available, monsieur le comte. Room 847.”
With a sigh, Alex had agreed. Refusing the offer of assistance with the two small satchels, he’d signed the receipt then taken her up to the hotel room himself. She’d been dazzled by the vast, beautiful room, which seemed to her as elegant as Versailles, with its enormous bed and marble fireplace. Then she’d looked again at the bed. Just one bed.
“You will take it,” Alex had told her. When Rosalie had tried to refuse, he’d asked her, with a gleam in his dark eyes, if he needed to physically lift her onto the bed himself.
The idea of having Alex hold her so closely against his body had made her afraid—afraid of herself, afraid of what she might do when faced with such temptation. So she’d agreed. Just the hours together in the tiny space of his sports car had been bad enough. She’d spent a long time pretending to be asleep, until she had actually fallen asleep.
But in the intimacy of the hotel room, after she’d already changed her clothes, brushed her teeth, climbed into the bed and pulled the blankets up to her neck, she’d heard him take off his clothes in the darkness. The slight gleam of light from the windows had caressed his naked chest as he walked to the sofa. Even though the lights were off, even though she was on the other side of the room, she still felt him. Every step. Every breath.
As she’d squeezed her eyes shut, she’d known she wouldn’t sleep a wink. But she’d been more tired than she’d realized. Now, waking up so late, she felt guilty. He obviously hadn’t slept nearly so well. “Alex?”
He came in from the sliding door that led to a wrought-iron balcony. “Good morning.”
He looked handsome, freshly showered and shaved and wearing clean clothes, a charcoal tailored shirt and trousers. His hair was still a little wet. Unconsciously, she licked her lips. She could only imagine how she looked, with sleep-mussed hair, probably with a little drool left on her pillow. As if she didn’t feel ungainly enough, at seven months’ pregnant and wearing an old T-shirt that stretched over her belly like a beach balloon. “Why did you let me sleep so late?”
His dark eyes were warm as they trailed over her. “I thought you needed it.”
Why? Did she look that bad? “I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“It’s bad enough that I made you take the sofa—”
“You didn’t make me—I insisted.”
“But also, because of me, we’ll get a late start on the road back to Venice. I’m sure you have more important things to do than wait for me.”
“Yes,” he said, “speaking of that...”
She sat up straight on the bed. “What?”
“I’ve decided I’m not in such a hurry.” He smiled. “You said earlier that this is your first trip to Europe.”
“Yes,” she said, feeling suddenly guarded. “So?”
He came closer to the bed, looking down at her in a way that made her feel like the stretchy T-shirt and blanket covering her body weren’t nearly enough, because she could feel him, even without him touching her.
“I’ve made plans.”
“P-plans?” she stammered, her cheeks flooding with heat. Her gaze fell to his thighs so close to her mattress, his muscular, powerful body seeming barely tamed by his civilized clothing. “What plans?”
“Would you like to see Paris?”
Her lips parted as she looked at him. “Um?”
“I’m guessing you haven’t seen much of the city.”
“That’s true.” After she’d left him in Venice three days before, she’d gotten the cheapest flight she could to Paris. She’d stumbled out of Charles de Gaulle Airport, exhausted from jet lag, and caught the first train to Rennes, then taken the bus to arrive in a heap on her great-aunt’s doorstep. She said honestly, “Last night was the most I’ve see
n of Paris.”
He snorted. “Since you were asleep, that isn’t much.” He paused, tilting his head as his black eyes glinted. “Get up.”
Nervously, she pushed back the covers. She felt his eyes skim over her stretchy T-shirt and shorts, and her body reacted as if he’d caught her naked. She said defensively, “It’s the only thing that still fits to sleep in.”
“I will buy you new clothes.”