Two Nights in Paris

by Delaney Diamond

  “But she could still find out and won’t be pleased.”

  Stephan took a seat on one of the chairs opposite Ella’s colorful settee. “You don’t know the half of it. She already warned me to stay away from staff, Roselle specifically. She said she’d delay my inheritance if I didn’t.”

  Ella’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. “So you won’t get it next year?”

  Stephan shook his head.

  “And you still slept with her?” Ella asked in a fierce whisper, eyes darting toward the open door.

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  He barely understood himself. A single touch from Roselle shredded his self-control, and the soothing sound of her voice drew him in.

  His legendary confidence was taking a beating. On the one hand, he liked the idea of hooking up with Roselle at his convenience, but on the other hand, he wanted to lock her down to make sure he had her to himself. Thoughts of her ran through his mind on a constant loop, and if a day went by when they didn’t run into each other in the hall, he felt out of sorts.

  “You’re right, I don’t understand such reckless behavior. Based on what you’re telling me, Mother already warned you, and Roselle is one of her favorite employees. She trusts her and admires her work ethic. So good luck when she finds out.”

  “She’s not going to find out. I got this.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Stephan muttered.

  “You should probably stop seeing her.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “This is serious. You should at least consider it.”

  “Not an option.” He had no intention of stopping seeing Roselle.

  “Uncle Stephan!” The excited squeals of his nieces drew his attention away from the disheartening conversation with his sister.

  Ella’s daughters, five-year-old Sophia and three-year-old Hannah came barreling toward him in ballet slippers and white tutus. Both girls had started taking dance classes a couple of weeks ago and immediately became obsessed with being ballerinas. They consumed everything Ella put together about famous ballerinas like Olivia Boisson, Misty Copeland, and Michaela DePrince.

  Following behind them more slowly was Tyrone, Ella’s husband, and the girls’ stepfather. He was a light-skinned brother with a fine beard covering his jaw and chin. He and Ella met when the police department assigned him to investigate a break-in at her home.

  “Hey man, what’s up?” Tyrone said with a nod.

  “It’s all good,” Stephan replied.

  Tyrone must’ve picked up the girls from the on-site daycare downstairs. When Sylvie had expanded to take over the additional floors in the building, she added the perk of an on-site daycare for employees. Ella sometimes took advantage of the service so the girls became more socialized instead of spending all their time with their nanny. From his outside observation, they enjoyed playing and learning with other kids.

  “And who do we have here? Well, if it isn’t Rugrat One and Rugrat Two,” Stephan said, teasing the girls with the same nickname he had given them for years.

  “I’m not a Rugrat,” Sophia said as she climbed up on his lap.

  “Me either,” Hannah said. She stood next to him on the settee and put an arm around his neck.

  Stephan tugged on one of Sophia’s long braids. “Are you sure about that? If you’re not Rugrats, what are you then?”

  “Ballerinas,” Sophia answered.

  Ella walked behind her desk and picked up her purse. “They love the classes, and the teacher said they’re both good dancers.”

  “Oh boy, that means I’ll have to come up with a new name for you,” Stephan said.

  “That’s right,” Sophia said, the most vocal of the two.

  “Nah, I’m going to keep calling you Rugrats,” Stephan said.

  “No!” Hannah wailed.

  “Yeah, I think that’s best for now.” Stephan kissed them each on their temple and set them on the floor. Standing, he asked, “Where you guys headed?”

  “Late lunch around the corner,” Tyrone replied. “Did you already eat? Come with us.”

  “No, I have work to do, and I already ate lunch.”

  They all started toward the door, with the girls running ahead of the three adults.

  “Please consider my suggestion,” Ella whispered from the side of her mouth, as they exited her office.

  “Still not an option, Ella. I got this,” Stephan assured her. They approached the elevator, and one of the girls had already hit the down button. The doors slid open, and they all stepped in. “I’m not worried.”

  “That makes one of us,” Ella said.

  The elevator stopped on Stephan’s floor, and he walked out. “Bye, you guys have a great lunch.”

  “Bye!” the girls yelled at him, waving vigorously.

  He waved back and let his eyes meet his sister’s before he turned away and headed to his office.

  Chapter 19

  Roselle was actually on his doorstep in jeans and a green blouse with a big bow on the right shoulder. Her hair was styled in wavy curls that kissed her shoulders.

  He braced his hands on the door frame and locked eyes with her. “You’re late.”

  “There was an accident on the highway.”

  “I thought you might have canceled on me.”

  “Without calling? I wouldn’t do that.”

  She clasped her hands in front of her.

  “Don’t tell me you’re shy.”

  “I’m not,” she said defensively, eyes widening.

  “I’m not,” he mimicked in a falsetto voice.

  She pouted. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  “Says who?”

  “If your mother finds out, she won’t be pleased. I’m an employee hooking up with her son.”

  She’d mentioned that concern before, which Stephan ignored.

  “How will she find out if we don’t tell her? Let me worry about my mother, okay? Get in here.” Stephan pulled her over the threshold and into his arms.

  She melted against his chest, and all was right in the world. He didn’t know when it happened, but at some point, she’d become integral to his peace of mind. She was soft and smelled good, and if he didn’t have dinner warming, he’d skip to the sex part of the evening.

  He placed a wet kiss on her mouth, devouring her as if he hadn’t seen her in months.

  “Mmmm,” he said when he finally released her lips.

  “That’s quite the greeting,” she said, sounding a little breathless.

  “I like my guests to feel welcomed.”

  “So you greet all your guests like that?”

  “Only the pretty ones.”

  She smiled and ducked her head. He liked how she blushed so easily. It was the cutest thing.

  He took her by the hand and led the way through the house. “We basically have the place to ourselves. My brother’s out of town and the house manager, Paula, is upstairs in her suite. Before she went to bed, she prepared a meal of lamb chops, roasted potatoes, and spinach salad.”

  “Sounds great. Smells good, too. I wish I had someone to cook for me.”

  Roselle stopped in front of the huge half-moon shaped island. It accommodated six on the round side. The spacious kitchen was glass-enclosed and received lots of sunlight during the day. It was still light outside, so Stephan hadn’t yet turned on the lights to illuminate the room.

  “It’s a blessing and a curse. When she treats me right, it’s cool. A couple of nights ago, she made lasagna and made the noodles and sauce from scratch. Reese and I ate upstairs on the rooftop. So damn good.”

  “How do you stay so thin?” She propped her chin on her hand.

  “Because half the time she doesn’t cook for me unless I practically beg. Reese doesn’t care if she cooks because he eats out most of the time. Starvation and regular exercise keep me fit.”

  “You have to beg your house manager to cook for you?”

 
“Long story short, she hates me, and I hate her.” He moved around the kitchen, gathering plates and utensils.

  “Why don’t you hire someone else?”

  Stephan laughed. “Because it’s fun.” He removed one of the covered dishes from the oven and placed it on the island. “You want to eat here or at the table?”

  “Here is fine.”

  “Wine?”

  “Yes, please. Let me help.” Roselle hopped down off the stool, and together they moved the dishes, wine, and food to the island.

  Stephan poured them each a glass of cabernet sauvignon. “Cheers,” he said, holding up his glass.

  She tapped hers against it. “Cheers.”

  He was sure he accurately read every emotion in her expressive eyes. In the past, he’d seen pain and joy. Tonight he saw contentment.

  After a few minutes of eating, Roselle dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Why is this the best lamb I’ve ever had?”

  Stephan chuckled. “Because it probably is. She’s a hell of a good cook. Actually, that’s probably the real reason I can’t let her go. Every time she cooks a good meal, I forget how terrible she is to me.”

  “You need to stay on her good side. Mmm, this meat is so tender, and it’s seasoned to perfection.”

  “There’s more if you want.” Stephan pointed his fork at the top of the island where the covered dishes held extra servings.

  “I couldn’t.” She shook her head vehemently.

  “Don’t act like you don’t have a hearty appetite. I saw you wolf down three Nutella crepes in France.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really, you’re going to bring that up?”

  “Because you need to stop being cute and eat.”

  “Fine. After I’m finished, if I want more, I’ll let you know.”

  Stephan cut into the meat. “Good. Cause I’m definitely getting seconds. And while you’re asking me how I stay so fit, what about you?”

  She chewed another morsel of lamb and swallowed before answering. “Genetics on both sides. My dad was tall and skinny. He passed away when I was little.”

  “I’m sorry. Is your mother still alive?” He’d never heard her talk about her mother, only her great-aunt, who’d taken her in when she was a teenager. He sensed something bad had happened between her and her mother, but she never divulged the details.

  “Yes.” Her voice held no emotion, and she gave extra attention to the spinach on her plate.

  Whenever she talked about her great-aunt, she tended to get excited. Seconds ago, when she mentioned her father, her voice held sorrow. Talking about her mother injected a distinctly different tone into the conversation.

  “You don’t talk about her much,” Stephan said carefully.

  “There’s not much to tell. I haven’t seen her or talked to her in years.” She looked up at him, almost challenging him with her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. That’s rough. My mother drives me nuts. She’s controlling and she meddles in our lives, but I can’t imagine not seeing her.” He suddenly didn’t feel as hungry as he did before. His heart went out to Roselle.

  “Your mother gave me good advice once, and I’ll never forget it. She said, ‘You can’t control what people say, but you can control how you react to their words. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel bad about yourself.’ Her words helped me through a tough period. Your mother is smart, strong, and powerful. She does whatever she wants, and no one pushes her around.” She averted her eyes to the plate. “You have no idea how lucky you are.”

  “I love my mother, but she’s no saint, you know.”

  “I know. But she loves you,” she said in a small voice.

  “She’s my mother. She’s supposed to.”

  “No.” Pain flitted across her features, and he saw the same pain reflected in the brown orbs of her eyes. “Not all mothers are like that. You have a good one.”

  Stephan set down his fork. “Roselle, what happened?” he asked gently.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” She stared at her plate. She’d stopped eating, too.

  “I’m not asking to be nosy. I can see that something is bothering you.”

  “Something is bothering me, but it’s nothing I want to talk about. Not right now.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand.

  Reluctantly, Stephan nodded. “Okay. Let’s not talk about it.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  They finished their food, but neither ate seconds. They chose instead to indulge in a decadent dessert of warm chocolate chip brownies topped with vanilla ice cream, all piled into a large bowl. They ate every piece of brownie and emptied the plate of melted ice cream.

  Afterward, Stephan dropped his spoon into the bowl. “I’m done.”

  “Ugh. That was so good, but it was too much.” Roselle dropped her spoon in the dish, too.

  “We ate a lot. We need to find a way to work off all those calories.”

  Their gazes locked across the countertop of the island. Stephan stood and walked over to her side.

  “Let’s start with a walking tour of the house. I didn’t give you the grand tour,” he said.

  “That’s right, you didn’t.”

  “I’m a terrible host.”

  “Not true. You’re a great host. You fed me.”

  He helped her down from the stool. “Let’s start the tour upstairs. I’d like to show you my bedroom.”

  “Seems like an odd place to start a tour.” She fought the amusement that pulled at the corners of her mouth.

  “But I have a feeling you’ll like it.” He kissed her on the ear and led the way out of the kitchen.

  They took the imperial staircase to the top of the landing and turned left. When they arrived at the double doors of his bedroom, he let her in first and then shut the door behind them.

  He’d dimmed the lights earlier which gave the room a cozy feel. Walking up behind Roselle, he slipped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, “This is where the magic happens.”

  She giggled, leaning back into him. “That’s a really large bed. I’ve ever seen a bed that big before.”

  “It’s a Grand King, the grand-pappy of king-size beds.” It was set on a platform with two steps on each side.

  “And why do you need a bed that large?”

  “I…”

  Not because he needed the space for himself. No, it was because a bed of that size made it more comfortable for him to sleep with multiple women at the same time.

  Roselle looked over her shoulder at him. “You know what, never mind.”

  “Yeah, it’s best not to go there.” He spun her around and kissed her on the mouth. She groaned and slid her fingers under his T-shirt. Her soft hands caressed his abs and then slipped around to his back.

  “Why are we doing this again? Was it to get each other out of our system?” Roselle asked.

  “Exactly.” He released the button on the back of her blouse and pulled the top over her head. His gaze lingered on the swell of her breasts in the black lace brassiere. “So it might take weeks. Maybe months, but I’m willing to sacrifice and put in the work, no matter how long it takes.” He unsnapped the button on her jeans.

  Her breath hitched. “Me too.”

  “Perfect. We’re on the same page.”

  He kissed her again, with more intensity this time. One arm wound around the back of his neck while the other hand cupped the back of his head.

  He was already fully hard, ready to thrust wildly into her.

  “Stephan,” she moaned.

  That feathery plea was nearly his undoing. He practically tore off her clothes, and when they were both naked and under the sheets, he almost forgot to put on a condom. Maybe it was the excitement of having her in his house and in his bed, but he wanted her so badly his entire body felt like one painfully sensitive nerve.

  When he slid home between her legs, he groaned into her neck and then his hips were in motion, driving solidly between her thighs until they were both spent
and satisfied.

  What time is it?

  Roselle looked around for a clock but saw none. It was late, no doubt. She’d probably been asleep for hours.

  She stretched and then rolled onto her side to face Stephan. He lay on his side, too, facing her.

  “Stephan,” she whispered.

  “Hmm?” he mumbled.

  “I’m going to leave now.”

  She didn’t want to. These sheets were the softest she’d ever slept on, and the mattress was extremely comfortable.

  “Stay.” He still hadn’t opened his eyes, but he reached out and caught her wrist.

  “I should go home.”

  His eyes fluttered open, and a frown wrinkled his brow. “You don’t want to stay the night with me?”

  “I do, but…” She didn’t want to assume anything.

  “If you stay, Paula will cook breakfast in the morning, and I won’t starve.”

  “I feel like you’re in an abusive relationship with this woman.”

  He laughed softly. “I am, but you can save me, and I’ll have food to eat tomorrow. She’ll cook if a guest is here.”

  She didn’t know if he was kidding or serious.

  “Stay and let me give you a couple more orgasms and put your ass to sleep,” he said in a low voice.

  She couldn’t argue with that logic. She climbed on top of him, and he grew hard against her inner thigh.

  “Can I ride this time?”

  His eyes darkened with lust. “You can ride any time you want, sweetness.”

  Their lips locked together and his hands smoothed down her back to cup her backside. Grinding against him, she kissed him greedily. When the time came, and she sank down on top of his hard dick, her head fell back as indescribable pleasure vibrated up her spine.

  Possessing him, owning him, she moved up and down and demanded her pleasure. And he gave so much that when the orgasm ricocheted throughout her insides, she cried out in a loud voice and collapsed on top of him, breathing heavy through her nose and mouth.

  The last thing she remembered before she fell asleep was Stephan pulling her close and covering her with the sheet.

  Chapter 20

  “Hi, Auntie!” Roselle leaned down and kissed her great-aunt’s leathery cheek.