by CarrieKelly
Ewan shook his head. “That because it isn’t, lass. It’s better. Homier. It’ll get you into the real Paris lifestyle. All that other stuff is just fluff you don’t need.”
“Fluff I don’t need?” she said and glowered at him. “This is my vacation. If I want to stay at the Hyatt, I’ll stay at the Hyatt. I had a reservation. I had to book it months in advance, and now I’m supposed to stay in this. . . this . . .”
“If you want to say something insulting, get it out of your system now. We’ve got a long trip ahead of us,” he said and pulled her suitcase from the trunk.
Two months to be exact. She frowned at him. Eva saved up vacation days for years to be able to go on this trip. It was like he took her dream and smashed it on the ground. “Yes. A long trip that I booked. Did you get rid of all my other hotel reservations too? This place doesn’t even look like it has room service! And what about the money I spent?”
“It doesn’t. Who needs room service with restaurants all around us? We’re within walking distance to the Moulin Rouge. Plenty to see around here. Let’s settle in and get you a drink. I think you could use it. And don’t worry about the money. I cancelled before they charged you – and I’m paying for your stay here.”
Eva huffed inside after him. “Don’t presume to know what’s best for me. I’m going to go to the Hyatt and try to get my room back.”
Ewan turned and smiled at her. “With what cab?”
She spun around. The taxi that drove them there was gone, and the rain fell steadily on the cobblestone walk. Her heels wobbled on it as she cursed under her breath. “I should call your superior!”
“Language, lass. Come on. Your room is up here. Best view in the city, if you ask me. If you really want to call, go ahead. You’ll be without a guide, if you do.”
It wasn’t really a threat, but Eva didn’t want to be stranded in a city that she didn’t know all alone. She followed him, thinking she should’ve paid more attention to her French teacher in high school.
They climbed a set of stairs, and he opened the door to her room and let Eva inside first. She gasped when she saw all of Paris lit up below in the wide portrait window. Even the Eiffel Tower sparkled in the distance. The rain made the whole scene look like it was glowing and golden.
“It’s wonderful,” she murmured.
A strong hand clamped on her shoulder. “Told you. Best view in all of Paris. The bed’s here.”
Eva was so taken with the view she hadn’t noticed the tiny room. It was like a studio apartment back in New York, and it only held one bed, a small bathroom and a little kitchenette. The room was so crowded, she almost bumped into Ewan when she turned around.
“This is it?”
He smiled, and his blue eyes caught the light and reflected it back at her. “It is. But you’re in Paris, lass. How much time are you going to spend in your hotel?”
She glowered at him and shrugged. “Some time, at least. Where are you staying? Down the hall?”
His eyes sparked. “Right here,” he said and sat on the bed. “I’ve got to keep you safe. Paris can be a dangerous place for some people.”
Some people? Eva stared at him. Did he think she was some kind of celebrity? “I’m not anyone important.”
“I think you’re more important than you let on.”
“I’m not famous.”
“I never said famous. I said important.”
“But there’s only one bed,” she said and put her hands on her hips. “And no couch.”
Ewan’s lips slid into a smirk. “Never slept with a man before? I think that’s a bold faced lie and you know it.”
“Of course I’ve slept with men, but. . .”
“But what?” he asked and stepped toward her. He towered over her, and his breath blew across her flushed cheeks.
“We only just met,” Eva said and squared her shoulders. He was not going to intimidate her with his size.
“Have we? Funny. It feels like I’ve known you much longer, Evangeline.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. Ewan was so close she could’ve kissed him if she wanted. His lips looked tasty. Thin and perfectly shaped, with a little bow on the top.
“Well, we haven’t. Unless you were stalking me. And I said to call me Eva. Only my mother calls me Evangeline.”
And the last person Eva wanted to be reminded of at the moment was her mother.
His fingers trailed up her arm, the touch tingling her skin. “Wouldn’t that be something?” he breathed.
Eva didn’t know what to say. He was kidding. He had to be kidding. This gorgeous man didn’t stalk her for months. If he’d been in New York, she would’ve noticed him for sure. A man like Ewan stood out, especially in a city.
Her cheeks heated, and she pulled free of his grasp and stepped into the bathroom without saying a word.
What the hell was he talking about? She wasn’t important in the least – even if she could afford a vacation like that. He could probably tell she was pushing thirty, and she wasn’t some virgin. But she’d never shared a bed with a stranger like that – not unless she met him in a bar and had too many glasses of wine to know better.
Eva splashed some water on her face and frowned at her reflection. The dark hair, pulled back into a tight ponytail, was damp at the sides. It clung to her golden skin. Her full cheeks were pink, and her brown eyes were lined with dark circles.
She did look tired.
Damn.
Then her stomach grumbled.
“Hungry?” Ewan called from outside the door.
How did he hear it? She glowered and applied a new layer of lipstick. “I want to eat at a restaurant,” she said as she stepped out.
“I thought you would, lass. Come along then.”
He led her down the street to a tiny café with big windows and little, blood red chairs. They settled inside, and he ordered them both a rich steak. The server brought them more bread than Eva had eaten in years. A little dish of butter glinted at the side, taunting her.
Ewan also ordered wine – lots of it.
She scowled. “I just wanted a salad.”
He raised an eyebrow and a chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I’m sure you did, lass. Just a salad,” he said with a wink.
Great. Even her own tour guide was making fun of her now. Well, Eva didn’t have to put up with that. Not on her grand adventure. First he cancelled her hotel reservations, now this? It was too much!
“I don’t have to listen to your ridicule,” she said and threw her napkin on the table. “Yes. I only wanted a salad, not your fattening steak. Just because I’m overweight, doesn’t mean I eat food like that all the time.”
She turned to storm out of the restaurant. The other patrons stared, but she tried to ignore them. Then a strong hand clamped on her arm and held her in place.
“That’s not what I meant. But I think you’ll like their food. If you’re in Paris, you can indulge a little, right lass?”
He didn’t smile, and his blue eyes were light and pleading.
Eva’s heart slammed in her chest, and she wanted to do anything except sit back down. But storming out now seemed like a silly thing to do, especially when he looked sincere. Maybe she just misunderstood. Jetlagged and all.
“I’m sorry to offend you, Eva,” his fingers slipped over her skin, and she slowly took her seat again.
Then he gulped a glass of wine and frowned. Was he trying to play her? Or was he honestly sorry? “I accept your apology.”
His hand slid off her arm, and he smiled. “What brings you to this side of the pond? Sightseeing?”
Eva shrugged and took a small bite of the bread. It melted in her mouth like heaven. “Who doesn’t want to go on a trip to Europe?”
His eyes sparkled. “Most people don’t come alone, unless they’re young men. Women your age usually have a travel companion of some kind.”
She twisted the napkin in her lap and took another sip of wine. “Well, all my friends had to work.”
/> “And you didn’t have a boyfriend to come with you either?” he put in.
She took a larger bite of bread and chewed. Anything to avoid answering that question. “No. Not at the moment.”
“Good,” he said, but his voice dropped, almost into a growl.
Eva glowered at him. “Well, I’m so happy to oblige you.”
He ran his tongue over his lips, like he tasted the air. “I’m sure you are. I didn’t mean any offense, lass. But if you’re single, it makes everything so much easier. No one to get jealous, you see.”
“Jealous of what?” Eva asked, eyeing the butter.
Ewan only smiled, and the waiter set down their food. He didn’t bother answering her. She pouted until she took the first bite of her steak. It melted in her mouth, perfectly flavorful, and she couldn’t help the sound that slipped off her lips. She usually only made that sound in bed.
“Do you enjoy it?” he asked with a mischievous smirk.
Eva nodded. She couldn’t deny it now.
“I thought you would.”
It was the best steak she’d ever tried, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. As they ate, he kept an eye on her, licking his lips from time to time. He sipped his wine, and her cheeks flushed under his intense gaze.
“Dessert?” he asked when she was finished. The steak was smaller than ones served in America, but she didn’t want to seem like a pig.
“I’m full, actually.”
Ewan ignored her. He waved down the waiter and ordered something. Chocolate was the only word she caught.
“I said I was full,” Eva repeated with a frown.
“And I know you’re lying, lass. You love chocolate, even if you don’t want to admit it. Trust me, you’ll love this more than the steak,” he said with a wink.
She wanted to huff and walk out, but she still needed to pay for the meal. He probably expected her to pay for his food too, the bastard. Just because he was handsome as all hell, he thought he could get away with anything. He was probably just paying for the hotel to get her to drop her guard. Then he’d let her pony up the expense for everything else. Eva had met plenty of men like him, and she scowled at the thought.
Hell, this whole thing could be a scam, and she didn’t even know it. Maybe he wasn’t even her real tour guide to begin with. She’d call the agency as soon as she was alone, just to make sure.
“You don’t always know what’s best for me,” she grumbled and fingered her napkin.
“And do you know what’s best for you, lass?” he asked.
Eva gaped. No one had ever asked her that before. Everyone always assumed they knew what was best, and her feelings or thoughts didn’t make a difference at all. Like how her mother remarried right after her father died. That rich bastard of a stepfather and his perfect children sneered at her every chance they got. Her mother was worse.
You’ll get an MBA, Evangeline. It’s not like you’ll find a man to support you. Eva bristled under the memory.
“How dare you!” she said, and swallowed the sharp pricks threatening her eyes.
“How dare I what?”
“Of course I know what’s best for me,” she huffed. “I’ve always known.” But no one had ever given her the chance to do anything about it.
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you now?”
“Yes. Yes I do. Why? What do you think is best for me?”
“I am,” he said, like it was a matter-of-fact.
She flushed, and the waiter set down their dessert – a rich chocolate cake with lush mousse frosting. Eva didn’t know what to say, and Ewan lifted a bite to her lips.
Her mouth dropped open at his words, and she took the bite. It was just as delicious as the steak, but that didn’t matter. Not when he was being so rude about everything. He was best for her? Maybe in the bedroom, but no way in hell would he be a good match for Eva otherwise. Ewan McLane was too damn bossy for one.
He took a bite after she did, a dangerous smile on his lips. “See? I knew you’d enjoy it.”
She licked her lips and finished her wine. “Fine. You have the rest.”
“Just one more bite. Come on. Open wide.”
Eva wanted to say something, but his eyes held her. And the chocolate made her mouth water. She took the second bite and swallowed. Then she pulled out her wallet, but he waved his hand over it.
“I’ll get it,” he said with a smile.
“But. . .” Eva started.
He didn’t let her finish. Ewan handed the waiter a few Euros and led her outside. They stepped into the light drizzle, and Ewan held his coat over her head.
As they walked back to the little hotel, a man stepped out of an alley. He was the same height as Ewan, and a long scar ran down his cheek and over his lip. Greasy black hair fell over his forehead, and he grinned. His teeth were sharp and nasty.
Was he some kind of bum?
Eva clutched her purse and frowned.
The man said something in French, and Ewan stood in front of her and bared his teeth.
While she didn’t understand what they were talking about, the body language was understandable. The greasy man took a step forward and sneered at them. His hooked nose caught the light, and he fixed a bright eye on Eva.
She thought he said ‘bella’, which meant beautiful, but Eva knew she probably heard him wrong. No stranger was going to call her beautiful unless he was trying to get into her pants. And why would a bum try to flirt with her when she was already with another man? Unless he thought Ewan was too for her. The greasy man might.
Suddenly, the bum lunged forward, and Ewan caught the man by the arms and slammed him against the wall. The bricks cracked under the assault, and the greasy man huffed.
Ewan growled.
Eva’s hands trembled and she reached for her cell. She needed to call the police! But she didn’t know the emergency number in Paris. Dammit! What was she supposed to do?
The black haired man punched Ewan, and her tour guide flew back and slid across the ground. How strong was this stranger?
“What do you want?” she muttered. Eva stumbled back, tripping over the cobblestones, and almost fell into a puddle.
“You, bella mademoiselle,” the man said and smiled. His teeth looked sharp in the streetlights.
He reached for her. His nails were long and caked with dirt, almost like they were claws. She wanted to turn and run, but her breath caught in her throat and her feet wouldn’t move. She may have lived in New York her whole life, but that didn’t mean she’d been attacked like this.
“I am going to make you mine,” the man growled in a thick French accent.
Eva’s heart felt like it was going to choke her, and she glanced at the ground where Ewan fell, but he was gone. Did he run off?
Great! Just what she needed on her first day in Paris!
Then Ewan leapt from the shadows. He and the greasy man skidded across the cobblestone ground, rolling and punching at each other in a frenzy Eva could hardly keep straight. She glanced around, but no one was on the street. They were totally alone out there!
She turned to run back to the restaurant. Maybe they could call for help, if she could explain what was happening, but Ewan stood up suddenly.
His shirt was ripped, and a dribble of blood ran down his chin. His blue eyes seemed to glow in the darkness.
The bum lay still on the ground.
“Is he dead?” she whispered.
“Knocked out. Come on,” he said and grabbed her arm, pulling her down the street.
“Shouldn’t we call someone?” she asked, stumbling after him. Tomorrow, she’d wear tennis shoes and not heels.
“No. That won’t be necessary, lass. The police won’t be able to do a thing anyway.”
“But he just attacked us. They can’t lock someone up for that?” What kind of country was France if that kind of behavior didn’t land someone in jail?
He smiled, grimly. “Oh, they could lock him up, but it wouldn’t do much good.”
&nbs
p; Her mind reeled, but she didn’t ask any further questions. Maybe the police in Paris weren’t good at their job, she thought. Plus, her brain felt too bleary to think straight.
They got back to the room, and Ewan let her shower first, although he was injured. She washed as quickly as possible, and pulled on her over-sized pajamas before she stepped out of the room.
He stood next to the window. His silhouette was dark against the dim glow of Paris below them. Ewan turned when he heard her.
“I’ll be quick. Don’t leave the room under any circumstances,” he said and stepped into the bathroom.
Doubt clawed at her mind, and Eva waited until the water started before she pulled out her smart phone with trembling fingers. He may have rescued her from that bum, but there was something strange about him. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.
She called the tour agency, but she only got a recording. Dammit! They were based in Europe so they’d be closed this late at night. Of course. She’d just have to leave a message instead.
“This is Eva Barns,” she whispered into her phone. “I’m wondering if you can give me a call about my tour guide, Ewan McLane. We were attacked by a homeless man in Paris tonight and I want to make sure everything is, um, under control. Thank you. Please give me a call back as soon as possible.”
She sat on the bed, and the exhaustion rushed over her body and made her limbs feel like wet noodles.
A few moments later, Ewan stepped out of the shower in just a towel. His tan skin shone in the yellow light. The little droplets of water dripped from his hair and over his powerful build. He was even more muscular without the clothes, Eva realized, and licked her bottom lip.
Then she noticed the cuts and bruises on his skin. He probably got them from the fight with the bum, and he limped when he walked up to the edge of the bed.
“You look tired, lass. Get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”
She smiled at the idea of her first full day in Paris. “What do you have planned?”
“It’s a surprise,” he said and slipped a pair of boxers on under the towel. The wet cloth fell off at the last moment, and she caught a perfect view of his tight ass.
Damn. He was far too gorgeous to be a tour guide. And he was hiding something, she reminded herself.
