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Too late.
The tension is so thick between us I could cut it with a butter knife. I fear I’ve lost him to this Russian tycoon’s daughter who he obviously still has feelings for.
As soon as the chauffeur turns the corner, and I see the hotel at a distance, something inside me snaps, and the words escape my mouth before I know it.
“You didn’t have to embarrass me that way.” I glare at him. “You don’t have to keep reminding me why you pay for my services. I’m clear on the reasons why I’m here and I know my place. I understand the terms of our arrangement and I got into it with eyes wide open, but I genuinely was worried about you and wanted to make sure you were okay. Perhaps it came out sounding a bit awkward, but it came from a sincere place.”
He runs a hand through his hair before running it over his face. “I was out of line. I acted like a jerk.”
Our Benz is approaching the hotel where I’ll end up sulking in our rooms.
“Take us around to a quiet place where you can park the car and allow us to talk,” Bryce says, and we whiz right past the hotel.
Several minutes later, he finds a quiet street and parks the car on the sidewalk.
“Give us forty minutes or so,” Bryce says. “I’ll text you when we’re ready.”
The chauffeur meets Bryce’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Monsieur, I stay close to car. Smoke a little cigarette and look at football news. French police ask questions why a car is parked this way in the middle of Paris. I open hood, they think we have mechanical problems. Better that way.”
“Great idea. Thank you,” Bryce says. He waits for the chauffeur to get out of the vehicle before speaking. “I’m not very good with this sort of thing.”
“What do you mean by this sort of thing?” I don’t allow him to respond, my fury is too over-powering. “I’m not stupid. I know you had a life well before hiring me for this job. You made me feel cheap and dirty in that bar by walking out with your Russian ex-girlfriend and leaving me there alone.”
He lets out a sigh. “I acted like a hotheaded fool. Anastasiya does that to me. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
I cross my arms over my chest, shooting him a side gaze.
It must be clear from the unimpressed expression on my face I’m still not buying his story, so he continues. “Anastasiya Melnichenko belongs to one of Russia’s richest families.” I got that much. The woman was dripping in diamonds. And three Hermes bags in one shot? Shit. That’s at least forty thousand dollars. “She’s beautiful, extremely smart, and incredibly manipulative. I dated her for a while after my three failed marriages, and she swept me off my feet with her charm and wit. I got her a big pear-shaped engagement ring—her favorite diamond shape—of exceptional clarity, because I knew her enough to know she wouldn’t have accepted anything less. I was a multimillionaire back then, not quite a billionaire yet. When I proposed, she looked at the ring, raised her green eyes, smiled, and said, ‘Oh, Bryce.’ I was so excited I didn’t clue in. She hadn’t said yes to my proposal.”
He keeps talking. “We had a passionate night after the proposal, and the next morning I woke up to an empty bed. When I went looking for her inside my home, I stumbled upon a note where she dismissed my proposal on the basis that I wasn’t rich enough to afford the lifestyle suited for a woman of her status. I was only a multimillionaire, after all. She must’ve been keeping tabs on me. As my fortune grew, she started calling to remain friends. I was uninterested in returning her calls.”
What a story.
“Are you still in love with her?” The words fly out of my mouth.
I shouldn’t have asked the question.
That was a faux pas.
My heart bangs against my chest as I wait for his answer.
“No. It’s male pride that made me react the way I did. Anastasiya Melnichenko is a cold-hearted bitch and she doesn’t deserve me.” He spits those words out.
I hate how I’ve allowed myself to fall for Bryce, knowing there’s little chance anything will develop past our arrangement.
I close my eyes, the weight of this realization heavy on my shoulders. The moment his hands touch mine, the tide of emotions trapped inside me escapes. I don’t want to cry in front of him. I can’t do this to him. It’s not his fault I fell hard, but this day is more than I can bear.
With a tender touch, he wipes away the first tear, and the next one.
I open my eyes. “I’m sorry for crying.”
“Don’t be.” He pulls a tissue from his pocket and wipes away my tears. “There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you since we got back from our first visit at Mariella’s, but I wasn’t quite sure how to put it.” He leans in to gently kiss the tip of my nose. “From the moment we met, I knew I’d do whatever it takes to book you solid so you wouldn’t be able to be with any other man.”
I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I’m in shock.
He continues. “I know we have this arrangement, but I’m starting to fall for you, Amanda, and I don’t know how you feel about me.”
I’m still unable to find my voice.
