Mr. Black's Proposal (Part One: A Billionaire Erotic Romance) Page 7

  The plane bounced once, then twice, rolling through the fog with a low roar. When we finally rolled to a stop, I stood up excitedly. We were here! I was in Paris!

  “Where should I wait for a cab?” I asked the flight attendant. She raised her eyebrows at me.

  “Just down the stairs,” she said. “You won’t need a cab.”

  I frowned but made my way down the stairs carefully. I was wearing heels and a simple dark skirt, and the wind was blowing so fiercely outside that I took my time getting down the steps. Then I saw a black car roll up on the tarmac.

  The back door of the car opened.

  “Stephanie!”

  My lips parted in surprise, then I snapped them shut. It was Lucas.

  He was dressed in gray pinstriped suit pants and a white button-up shirt. It looked like he had just come from work. And god, he looked even hotter now than he had back in New York City. He came over with a jaunty bounce in his step, his arms swinging at his sides. I remembered his arms, the way he’d wrapped them around me— No. You’re not getting involved with this guy.

  “You didn’t have to come pick me up,” I said.

  “Of course I did.”

  He leaned down and kissed me first on one cheek, then the other. I was too surprised to even push him away, but he saw the shock on my face.

  “It’s the traditional French greeting,” he said. “Get used to it.”

  “Oh. Oh!” I said, flushing.

  “Where are your bags?” he asked.

  “Bags?” I asked, looking back over my shoulder where his eyes were sweeping. “Oh! Bags. I don’t have any bags. I thought…”

  “Yes?”

  “I thought I was just going to be here one night. You said—”

  “Yes, but we’re going to be celebrating tonight!”

  I looked down at my outfit.

  “Is this not nice enough?”

  I shouldn’t have asked. When Lucas’s gaze swept over my body, I turned hot all over.

  “You’ll be cold in such a short skirt,” he said. “Turn around.”

  I had only twisted sideways when he reached out and tried to cup my ass. I swatted his hand away.

  “Lucas!”

  “Yep, definitely too short,” he said, grinning at me. “Personally, I love it.”

  “You would,” I said, huffing into the car. He held the door open and watched as I clambered in, trying desperately to keep my skirt around my knees.

  “Way too short,” Lucas said. “I think I got a glimpse of your underwear there. Unless that’s what you were going for.”

  “Absolutely not,” I snapped. I stared firmly out the window. I was here for Lacey, and that was it.

  Wasn’t it?

  He slid into the seat next to me.

  “Let’s go shopping, then,” he said.

  Lucas took me to a little boutique off of the Champs-Elysees. To his credit, he didn’t try to touch my ass again, although he did wait for me to climb out of the car. I could feel his gaze sliding over my curves, and I clasped my hands across my chest.

  We went into the boutique and I stood in amazement at the rows of mannequins in gorgeous designer silk dresses, skirts, and suits. I turned to Lucas as a saleslady came over to us.

  “I don’t think this is the right kind of shop for me,” I said. I normally bought my dresses from JC Penny or H&M. This was way out of my price range.

  “Nonsense,” Lucas said.

  “But I can’t afford—”

  “Bonjour,” Lucas said to the saleswoman. She was standing right in front of us, and I clapped my mouth shut on my objections. “Pouvez-vous assister avec des robes?”

  I stared at him agog. His accent was flawless, as far as I could tell. I’d only taken high school French, so I couldn’t tell very far, but it was still impressive.

  “Mais oui, Monsieur,” the saleslady said. She gestured to me. “C’est pour vous?”

  I stared baldly at her in complete ignorance, trying to parse the sentence she’d just clipped out in rapid-fire French. Her face clicked in realization and she switched to English without missing a beat. “The dress is for you?”

  “Oh. Yes,” I said, only a little embarrassed that my high school language classes had failed me so miserably.

  “It’s for a special occasion,” Lucas said. “Perhaps you could pick out a few things?”

  “Of course,” the saleslady said, in a slight French accent. She motioned to the back. “I will bring them to the fitting room.”

  Lucas put his hand on my back and led me back. I wanted to swat it away, but his touch felt so comforting in this strange place.

  “I can’t afford any of this,” I whispered to him.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Lucas whispered back.

  “But you can’t—”

  “Our friends are getting engaged,” Lucas said. “It’s a special occasion. Please don’t think anything of it.”

  He smiled so calmly that I almost believed him. I hated that I couldn’t pay for my own way, though. I didn’t want to be in debt to him. He had already flown me out on his jet plane, for God’s sake.

  Without meaning to, I thought about my mother, and about the men that had come and gone through our apartment when Andy and I were young. She was always clinging to them, needy and desperate. I didn’t want to be like that. I never wanted to need a man.

  Lucas was different.

  No. He wasn’t any different. And even though he was super wealthy, I knew that eventually things would come around. In some way or other, I would have to pay.

  Now, though, the saleslady appeared in front of me with an armful of dresses. An assistant joined her and offered a plate of pastries and glasses of cucumber lemon water. Lucas sat down in the plush chair in front of the dressing room and sipped from his glass.

  “Let’s see these dresses on you,” he said.

  I bit back a retort—I wasn’t one of his glamour photo shoot girls—and took the dresses into the fitting room.

  It was incredible. The mannequins out front had me worried that I would have to be rail-thin to look good in the dresses. But the ones that the saleslady brought to me were perfectly form-fitting.

  I slipped a red silk gown over my body and stepped out in front of the dressing room curtain.

  “Tres chic,” the saleslady said, nodding in approval.

  I looked over to Lucas. His eyes were slightly wide, and he licked his lips before shaking his head.

  “No?” I asked.

  “It’s beautiful,” Lucas said. “But not entirely appropriate. You would be the lady in red, and we can’t have you overshadowing your friend.”

  Of course. I blushed to think about Lacey and Jake. Soon, they would be engaged! I definitely needed something more demure. I went back into the dressing room and tried on the second dress, a small black cocktail dress. I thought it looked good, but when I came out to model it, Lucas shook his head again.

  “Not formal enough. And I don’t like the way it covers your shoulders.”

  My face fell. I’d thought that this one was perfect. I turned, but Lucas snapped his fingers and the saleslady came forward with another armful of silk.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Some lingerie,” Lucas said. “You need something nice to wear underneath.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Try it on.”

  I tried it on. Lucas was right. The black silk lingerie that the saleslady brought me fit like a dream. The bra hugged me closely but the straps were wide enough to smooth out any lumps, and my cleavage looked—dare I say it?—freaking amazing. I turned around, admiring myself in the dressing room mirrors.

  “How is it?” Lucas called out.

  “Good!” I said, looking at the price tag. Jesus Christ, six hundred Euros for two pieces of underwear? I felt sick.

  “Let me see,” Lucas said.

  “What? No!”

  “What do you mean, no? I’m paying for it, aren’t I? I should get vet
o power over all articles of clothing.”

  I stuck my head out of the dressing room, making sure the curtain was covering all of my body. Lucas was sipping his cucumber water in his chair.

  “That’s a negative, Mr. Black,” I said. A smile itched at the corner of my mouth, but I suppressed it.

  “What if I refuse to buy it for you, then? Will you go naked under the dress?”

  I squealed.

  “No! I have my old underwear, I’ll just wear that—”

  “Bluff called. Alright, alright,” Lucas said holding up his hands. “I’ll just have to see it later.”

  “You’re never going to see this lingerie on me,” I called out to him. I closed the dressing room curtain and looked again at myself in the mirror. The silk was so soft under my fingertips. It was a shame that nobody would get to see it but me. Oh, well.

  “Try the cream and gold dress,” Lucas ordered.

  I thought that the color might be too light; I didn’t want my underwear to show through. But when I pulled the dress on over my body, I realized that the fabric was thick enough that it wasn’t transparent. Such quality fabric.

  I looked in the dressing room mirror. The cream dress had a lace overlay, with a gold embroidered pattern of what looked like the Fleur de Lis in tiny print. The top was ruched and showed only a hint of cleavage. I pulled off my ponytail and ran my hands through my hair, letting it flow over my shoulders. The gold in the dress made my hair look even blonder. It was incredible.

  “Show me,” Lucas called.

  I pulled the curtain aside. I was nervous as hell as I walked forward.

  “What do you think?”

  Lucas’s lips parted and he gave a low whistle. His eyes were searing into me. If he was pretending to like the dress, he was a great actor.

  I turned around to see myself again in the mirror. The dress swooshed lightly against my ankles. The gold embroidery glittered in the light. I felt like a Disney princess.

  In the mirror, Lucas came up behind me. I raised my eyes to his reflection. There was an intensity in the way he looked at me, a strange expression on his face that made my mouth close up.

  He stood behind me. His hands framed my shoulders, pressing lightly against my skin. Then he ran his hands down my shoulder blades, down my back. They came to rest lightly on my hips. It was a possessive touch, and I wasn’t about to let Lucas Black possess me.

  “What—what are you doing?” I asked softly.

  “Nothing.”

  He bent down and kissed my neck. I jerked away, spinning back.

  “Hey!”

  “What?”

  “I want—I thought— we need to keep this professional,” I said.

  “Kissing? Sure. I’m a professional at kissing.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  I was torn between conflicting desires. I wanted us to have a professional relationship together. First and foremost, I didn’t want to mess that up. But my body ached for his touch.

  He smiled apologetically, and his blue eyes were so full of desire that I almost wanted to give in. Then I remembered that a thousand other girls had already fallen for this look, this smile. I wasn’t going to be number one thousand and one.

  “Stop.” I didn’t know if I was talking to him, or to myself. Either way, I wasn’t going to let this happen.

  “Just one kiss.”

  “You already had one kiss. And that time—”

  I cut off my own sentence. And that time had almost led to something more.

  Damn him. I wanted him so badly. But I knew that I was one of a dozen other girls he was chasing, probably. And I didn’t want that.

  “And that time I didn’t get to finish.”

  My eyes widened at the word.

  “Lucas—”

  “I want you, Steph. I want you badly.”

  “Please. Let’s keep our relationship business only.”

  “Why?”

  His hand reached out, and I pulled away but there was nowhere to go in the dressing room. He paused, his fingers mid-air. Then he let his hand drop.

  I couldn’t help the stab of disappointment in my gut. And at the same time, I berated myself for feeling disappointed. How could I be so infatuated with this jerk?

  He wasn’t a jerk.

  That was true. He’d been a perfect gentleman to me. A little forward, sure, a little blunt. But nothing more than that. I only thought he was a jerk because I’d seen him with two different girls on the same day, and then he’d tried to flirt with me. And that was a jerk move.

  What if he really likes you?

  I shook the thought out of my head. I was another conquest, that was all. Another notch on his bedpost. Well, I wasn’t going to let him get me that easily.

  “Let’s go to the Eiffel Tower,” I said.

  “Of course.”

  He stepped away from me, and I steeled myself for the ache that came from not having him near me. My body was hollow, wanting. I squared my shoulders and ignored my feelings. I was here for Lacey. I wasn’t here for me.

  And I definitely wasn’t here for Lucas Black.

  Chapter Ten

  Lucas

  God, that woman. As she left the store, swinging her ass in a confident strut, it was all I could do not to yank her back inside and into the dressing room. I wanted her so badly. My cock twitched in my pants as I sat down in the car next to her.

  “Are you alright?” I asked. Her cheeks flushed slightly pink. I wanted to cup them in my hands and kiss her on the mouth. She had tasted so sweet before.

  “Fine,” she said, staring out the window intently, as though Godzilla had landed in Paris and was taking out the Champs-Elysees.

  I couldn’t help but look over at her. She wasn’t looking back anytime soon, so I let my gaze linger. The light from outside streamed in, turning her hair gold.

  Gold. She was all gold. Golden hair down to her shoulders. Golden flecks in her amber eyes. The shoes the saleslady had picked out to match the dress were gold, too, strappy sandals. In that outfit, she reminded me of a Grecian queen.

  But her arms were bare. Bare, too, her ears. Her bare neck tempted me like nothing else. I wanted to lavish her with gold and jewels. I wanted to put a collar around her and lead her to bed. I wanted— She turned to me and smiled. I swallowed hard.

  There was no convincing her. I knew that she wanted me. I could see the attraction. I wasn’t an idiot. Then why was she doing this? Leading me on only to turn me away at the last moment? I said nothing, only looked out of my own window. As beautiful as Paris was, the view was subpar compared to her delicate features, those luscious plump lips that I wanted to kiss so badly. I licked my bottom lip, tasting the memory of her. She breathed in sharply, or maybe it was just my imagination. Did she want me or not?

  We got to the Eiffel Tower just in time. There was a blonde lady at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a dark pantsuit. She was ordering around security guards like it was the presidential inauguration. I took Steph’s arm and she reluctantly let me lead her up to the base of the Eiffel Tower. As we strolled up to the lady, she turned on us with a strict shake of the head. She held her hand up and Steph stopped in her tracks.

  “La Tour Eiffel, c’est ferme pour un evenement special,” she said.

  “You’re the one in charge of this?” I asked politely. I think I’d met this woman before, in Jake’s office.

  The lady took out her earbud.

  “Yes,” she said. “You’re not family, though, are you?”

  “I’m Jake’s best friend,” I said. “And this is Steph, she’s here for Lacey.”

  “They’re on their way now,” the woman said, ushering us quickly through the security line. She snapped her fingers for one of the guards to come and escort us. “Lacey’s family is waiting up on the second floor of the tower. That’s where the after proposal party will be held. Please stay on that level until the event is over. Questions?”

  “Not at all,” I said. Steph said nothing,
but her fingers clenched around my arm. Hot and cold, all the time.

  The elevator clanged shut and the guard pressed the button for the second level, then stood back silently.

  As the metal cage rose into the air, Steph detached herself from me and looked out over the lawn. The sun was sinking quickly over the Paris skyline, and the throngs of people below turned into small indistinguishable figures as we rose higher and higher.

  “Are you scared of heights?” I asked.

  “No,” Steph said, shaking her head. Her golden hair blew out with the breeze. “Lacey is, though.”

  “I think she’ll be too preoccupied with other things to be afraid,” I said.

  We rose another floor of stairs, then another. The elevator clanked along.

  “What if she says no?” Steph asked, staring out over the view.

  I looked over at her. Her hands were pressed against the railing.

  “Do you think she’ll say no?”

  “No. She really likes Jake. But what if she did?”

  “Well, if I had to guess, I’d say he’d send her down to the party alone. It’s not too bad to spend some time with family on top of the Eiffel Tower. And Jake’s not one to waste a party that he already planned out.”

  “Hmm.”

  “She’s going to say yes,” I said. “If not now, then eventually. Jake is a persistent kind of guy.”

  “You’re kind of alike, then,” Steph said, eyeing me.

  “That’s right,” I said. “When we want something, we figure out a way to get it.”

  Her lips clamped shut once she realized what I meant. She turned and looked out once more over Paris.

  “Beautiful sunset, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “Beautiful.”

  “Romantic, even.”

  I put my hand on top of hers. She pulled it away calmly without looking at me.

  “Not that romantic.”

  But at the corner of her mouth, I could see the barest hint of a smile. And that was progress.

  Despite Steph’s worries, Jake and Lacey emerged from the elevator together holding hands. Lacey’s family rushed over in congratulations. Steph and I hung back, supportive but not overly familiar. This was an occasion for the family, after all, to welcome a new member. The only reason Steph was there was because I’d pushed Jake to include her.