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Meet Me In Monaco: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 2
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“Yes, just for the week,” Frank replies. Inwardly, I seethe. I want to talk to Liliana. He’s just getting in the way. “We spent a week in France before this, and now we’re down here, and on Sunday we’re flying back home.”
“Home? Where is that?” I ask. “No doubt, America, but whereabouts?”
“We’re from Philadelphia,” Frank tells me, busily emptying sugar packets into his coffee.
I set down my own mug in surprise. “Really? That’s funny. I went to school there.”
Frank glances up and frowns. “Where? The University of Pennsylvania?”
“Yes, I did my MBA at Wharton.”
Frank drops the sugar packet he’s holding. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“What?” I ask, looking between him and his daughter for an answer.
“So did I,” Frank says, laughing. He reaches out and when I do the same, clasps my hand in a joyous shake. “How about that?”
I laugh in return. It is a mighty big coincidence. It almost feels like fate. “Well, there’s a reminder that we live in a small world. When did you attend?”
“I graduated, oh, twenty years ago,” he says, then jerks a thumb at Liliana. “Right before this one was born.”
I try not to let my jaw drop completely. She’s only twenty – or at the most, twenty-one? I knew she was young, but I hadn’t considered she could be that young.
And it’s worse…
“That would have been around the same time I was there,” I admit. “I’m surprised we didn’t run into each other.”
“What was your name, again?” Frank asks, squinting.
“Nico Manella.”
“No,” Frank shakes his head and shrugs with an apologetic smile. “I guess we must have just missed each other in the halls or something.”
“I’m sure,” I say, smiling. At least Frank has warmed up now, although Liliana seems to be looking at me with doubt. I think she’s made the same connection I have. That I am literally old enough to be her father.
I should probably feel some tempering of my desire, knowing that. I’m twice her age. And yet – there’s just something about her – something I can’t put my finger on. I want to know more about her. I want to know everything.
“So, you said you’d help us find our way around?” Liliana asks, perhaps trying to drag the conversation away from our university days. She taps the map lying on the table pointedly as she sips her mocha.
“Yes, I did,” I say, turning my most charming smile on her. “Let’s see. You’ve only been here a day, so I’m guessing you haven’t explored too much?”
Liliana shakes her head. “Only the harbor area, here. And we had lunch over here.” She taps two parts of the map, and I nod.
“Are you fans of Formula One?” I ask. “Even if you’re not, you should check out the race circuit. You can walk right on it because it’s just normal roads at any other time of year. By the way, where are you staying?”
When she doesn’t answer immediately, I look up to see her blushing again. I could just nibble that blush right off her cheeks. “Um, it’s actually… well, it’s not on the map,” she admits. “We’re staying out of town.”
I take her meaning in immediately. The hotels in Monaco are expensive, naturally so. She means they’re staying across the border, in a cheaper hotel. That’s alright, after all, many visitors only come here for a day trip because the prices are so high.
But it does bring up the worry that they might not only be exploring Monaco in this short week they are here for.
“Are you planning to visit any other areas?” I ask, tactfully. “I’m an expert on Monaco, but I’ll confess, I don’t often stray outside of the borders. If I leave, it’s usually on a plane or a boat.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Liliana says, returning hope to my chest. “Monaco’s so very interesting. Even though we’re only here for a week, I’m sure we’ll find plenty to see and do.”
I smile, feeling it crinkle my eyes. When was the last time I smiled so deeply? And this, from only a casual conversation about my city. “You definitely will,” I promise her, and bend my head over the map again. “Now, you’re going to want to circle this area here…”
And all the while, I start to think about how I can make my promise true. How I can give her as much to see or do as she wants.
And this time, I’m not talking about Monaco.
CHAPTER FOUR
Liliana
I don’t know how I’m getting through this conversation without dissolving into a nervous wreck. Every time he looks at me, I feel like I’m going to say something incredibly stupid. Someone cool and calm has taken over my mouth because that certainly isn’t me responding to him as though everything is normal.
I can’t help letting my eyes stray over him as he talks. He looks down at the map, his eyes shaded by lashes that are far too long to be fair on a man, his mouth quirking at the corners. I can’t help but watch every tiny muscle working under the skin of his face, the way he moves, the way he talks. He’s so quick, and I think he must be very intelligent. The fact that he went to dad’s school helps to confirm it.
He’s not stuffy or uptight like I might have expected. Even though I can tell just by looking at him that he has more money than we do, he’s not worried about talking with us, reminiscing about his old school with my dad, and all the rest of it.
Which reminds me of how old he is.
I have to keep looking at him because I just don't believe it. How can it be true? He's really twenty years older than me? I don't think I had considered how old he might be when we first met, but of course, I knew he must have been older than I am. I just didn't quite expect it to be this much older.
He looks so amazing for his age, completely different from my dad. And he's just so... hot. Old men aren't supposed to be hot.
Which I guess means that he's not as old as I was thinking.
It makes sense, I suppose. When I was a teen, I thought that twenty was kind of ancient. Now that I’m that age myself, I can see how it isn’t. Maybe being forty is the same thing. It looks old from here – but in reality, he’s still young enough.
And that accent more then makes up for any difference in age that might have made me pause.
“There’s so much to remember,” I say, blinking down at the map we’ve been working on together. It’s now ringed with various lines and annotations that I’ve made while he pointed out where we ought to go. I can barely see the actual map itself anymore. “And this map is unreliable, too. I hope we don’t get lost looking for any of these other sights.”
“I’m sure it’s easier once we’re used to it,” Dad argues. “It’s only a small city. We’ll be able to find our way around like locals by the end of the week.”
“Well, maybe not quite like locals,” Nico says, and I look up to catch a teasing smile on his face. I’m glad he’s looking at my dad because if he was looking at me like that, I don’t think I would be able to manage it.
If he was looking at me like that back at my hotel room…
I force myself to snap out of it, taking an overly large gulp of my mocha and then nearly choking to death on the hot liquid. It goes completely the wrong way down my throat, making me feel like I’m about to cough up an entire lung. I feel a reassuring pat on my back, someone pushing me to lean forward and then slapping along my spine.
The coughing ends, and I fight for breath, my eyes blurred with tears. When I finally manage to straighten up and breathe again, I look up with horror to realize that it’s Nico standing over me. His hand is still on my back, and he’s peering down at me, his face so much closer to mine than I expected.
“Are you alright, now?” he asks.
“Yes. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I say, feeling my cheeks flame up so hot I could literally be on fire. “How embarrassing. First I bumped into you, and now this. You must think I’m such a klutz.”
He remains where he is for a long moment, his eyes looking down
deep into mine. I feel a kind of heat between us, something that almost sizzles in the air. My eyes dart down to his lips, and –
“Not at all,” he says, straightening up gracefully and moving back to his own seat. “It just makes you a real person. Mistakes, clumsiness, these things happen,” he finishes his words with a calm and elegant sip of his coffee, timed perfectly.
I fight to regain my composure, smoothing down the front of my dress and tucking my hair behind my ears. “Well, they seem to happen to me a lot,” I say, laughing nervously. Shut up, mouth, I try to tell myself. You’re making yourself sound like a dork.
He only smiles at me, a twinkle in his eyes that I can’t look away from. “Well, if you’re truly worried about getting lost again, perhaps you could do with a guide,” he says. He glances towards my dad as if it’s an afterthought. “I happen to be free for the rest of the afternoon. I have some time to kill before a business dinner. Why don’t I show you around a little?”
“Only if it doesn’t put you out at all,” Dad says, making me breathe a sigh of relief. Now that he knows they’re from the same alma mater, I guess he’s more comfortable with spending time with this stranger. Nico Manella. I’ve never heard his name before, but it sounds like music to my ears. So exotic.
“Not at all,” Nico says, draining the last of his cup with a smile. “Where do you want to go first?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Nico
Damn this. It’s getting late, and I can’t put it off any longer.
I take a moment to watch them in front of me. Liliana and Frank, or specifically Liliana. She’s walking just ahead, the two of them talking excitedly about the architectural details of one of the buildings we’re approaching.
We’ve toured just about all of Monaco’s main sights, on a whistle-stop tour. They insisted. Frank said that since we only have the one afternoon together, I should show them how to reach everything that they’re going to want to see later on. As for actually going inside places and enjoying them, they’ll do that alone.
It’s just the opposite of what I would like to do. In fact, I would love for Frank to go and sit down with a coffee or a beer somewhere and let me and Liliana do all the exploring together. I think about one particular spot, a tourist attraction where I happen to know of a secret exit onto the roof. I learned about it back in my student days, before I left for the States, and I’m sure it’s still there. After enjoying the day, I could take her up there, where no one else would be able to see…
I shake my head to myself, sharply. There’s no point in these fantasies. Even if I still can’t take my eyes off her. Even if every word we’ve spoken together has lodged a little more firmly inside my chest. Even if everything I learn about her makes me want to learn more, and more, and more.
There’s no point because I have to go.
“Well, this is where I leave you,” I say, reluctantly. I make a show of checking my watch, even though I’m sure down to the second what time it is, as they turn around. “I’m afraid I have to go, or I’ll miss my business dinner.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” Liliana exclaims. “We’ve been having so much fun.” Her cheeks heat again then, and I think she must not have realized she was going to say it before she did.
There’s something about her that I can’t help be drawn in by. She’s so straightforward. She keeps saying what she thinks. Good or bad, she blurts out her opinions, not worried about who might hear them. She says what she wants. I like that about her.
Actually, I think I might love it.
“It has been wonderful,” I say. “I’m a slave to my work, however. Please, forgive me for leaving you now.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Frank says, even though it’s not him I’m apologizing to. He walks closer and reaches out to shake my hand. “You’ve been a huge help. Thanks so much.”
“Yes, thank you,” Liliana says, clearing her throat. It’s adorable. She’s trying to be polite, but I can see she doesn’t mean it at all. She’s upset that I’m going.
It’s as much as I can do to stop myself from picking her up and running away with her.
“Ciao,” I tell them both. I force myself to start walking backward so that I’m at least making some progress away from them. “Enjoy the rest of your stay.”
“We will,” Frank replies, waving quickly before turning away.
“Ciao,” Liliana says, her voice a little faint, an echoing wave lingering longer and slower. She holds my eye until I turn to walk away, biting my own lip to stop myself from turning back.
“I apologize for my tardiness,” I say, slipping into a chair. “I hope you haven’t been waiting for too long.”
“No, not too long,” one of the men I’m meeting, an older man I’ve done business with a few times, replies. “I was just saying to Charles here, it’s not like you to be late. Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve always been punctual.”
I grimace. “Yes, I must apologize again,” I say, shaking my head. “I went home to change, and I didn’t count on there being a little traffic to get through.”
Charles laughs. “You misunderstand me,” he says. “What I mean is, you’ve earned the chance to be late a time or two. You can get away with it.”
I smile, and the others at the table with us laugh. “Alright, alright,” I say, lifting a hand in surrender. “I don’t apologize at all. Are we satisfied?”
“He said you were a charmer, too,” one of Charles’ associates, who I’ve never met before, puts in. “We’ve ordered a few bottles of red for the table – I hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” I tell him. “Let’s get the business out of the way so that we can enjoy ourselves, shall we?”
There’s another chorus of laughs around the table, and we begin to talk deals. When the waiter comes, I give them my order for the food as quickly and quietly as possible to avoid disturbing the conversation. Then they move away, and I watch them for a brief second before turning my attention back to the group.
At least, that’s my intention. But as it turns out, bringing my attention back to the matter at hand isn’t so easy. Because my gaze follows the waiter past the front of the table, which means I end up looking right at the door – and at the person who just came in.
And I don’t think I can believe my eyes.
I have to blink twice, look away, and then back before I believe it. It’s really them.
It’s really her.
Liliana and Frank just walked into my restaurant, only an hour since I last left them.
My instinct is to call them over, to shout and wave, but it would be rude to my associates here. Not to mention rather uncouth in a civilized restaurant like this. It would bring down the wrong kind of attention. So why does it feel like the only thing I want to do?
“What do you think, Nico?” Charles asks, making me look over at him.
“Oh, yes,” I say, glad I was able to keep one ear on the talking even while my eyes and mind were otherwise occupied. “I think it’s a good deal. It’s certainly one we can go forward with.”
“Excellent,” Charles says, and while he begins hashing out the details further, I feel my eyes sliding back to her.
She’s taking a seat at one of the tables. She hasn’t changed her dress, but she has added a small cropped jacket in cream lace which adds some coverage without being too bulky. She looks perfect. Neither of them has noticed me yet, and I take advantage of this fact to study her as much as possible. Her smiling face, her long blonde hair that she flicks over one shoulder unassumingly, the way she waves her hands when she talks.
I’ve got it bad.
I can’t resist any longer. I need to speak to her again – I must. I can’t think of anything except finding some way to make her mine. I’ve never failed to get anything I want in the past. I’m a man who knows what he wants. I made myself a businessman, worked my way through school and then an MBA, climbed up the ranks to be here. I’m not going to let her slip through my
fingers after a lifetime of working hard for what I want.
“Excuse me, gentleman,” I say, nodding to them all. “I’m going to have to hit the men’s room. But you have my approval, so far, and if you’re ready to sign the contracts, we may as well put this talk to bed and get on with an entertaining night, no?”
I leave that thought with them as I get up, heading towards the bathrooms.
Which just so happens to be on a perfect trajectory to take me past their table.
CHAPTER SIX
Liliana
Now that we’ve ordered, I can’t hold it in any longer. “Alright, I’m going to the bathroom,” I say, glancing behind me to figure out where it is. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
I get up from the table and head to the bathrooms. They’re at the back of the restaurant, and not too hard to find, which means I can easily slip inside without having to ask for directions. Which is good, because I feel kind of self-conscious.
I don't know whether it's because I'm in a strange country, or because I don't speak the language here. Well, at least, not all of the languages. Most people seem to speak English, but that doesn't mean that they speak English amongst themselves. So, I have no idea what people are saying as I pass by.
Maybe it's just because this is a really fancy restaurant, which is exactly what you expect when you come to Monaco. I'm not used to being in this kind of place. Either way, whatever it is, I just can't help but feel as though I'm being watched as I walk through the restaurant. Like everyone has their eyes on me and is judging me. I keep my own eyes down, focusing on not tripping on the floor until I reach the bathroom.
I'm almost inside, just about to pass behind a screen that artfully shields the doors when someone taps my shoulder. I spin around, surprised, to see a familiar face. One which I did not expect to see again, least of all so soon.
Nico.
His face takes my breath away. He’s changed since I last saw him, into a more formal suit in dark colors. It fits his body perfectly, hugging in just the right places. I have to try hard to resist the urge to reach out and run my hands along the tops of his shoulders, they look so strong and perfect. I can't help but wonder for a long moment if this is really happening, or if I've just gone completely mad and started seeing my daydreams as if they are real.