One Night in Monaco - Blair Babylon Page 0,39
hem of her gown and wiped her face with the crystal-beaded silk. “Ouch.”
Maxence unbuttoned a few of his shirt buttons near his throat and dragged his tuxedo shirt off over his head, leaving him in just an undershirt. A chill from the air settled on his back. He wadded the shirt into a ball and offered it to her. “Here.”
She grabbed the shirt and buried her face in the wadded white silk. “I’m trying,” she sobbed. “I really am. It won’t stop.”
He gingerly patted her shoulder. “You did so well to hold it in while we were in the casino. It’s . . . it’s okay. We’re okay now. You can stop crying now.”
“Don’t be nice to me. It makes it worse!” she wailed.
She hadn’t objected to being touched, so Maxence stroked her silken shoulder and upper arm. “I’ll get you back to Mauritius. I’ll get you back to your family even if I have to fly the whole way with you. Just please stop crying.”
She was gasping into his shirt crumpled in her hands, nearly hyperventilating, so Maxence rocked forward to his knees so he could lay his arms around her shoulders and pull her face against his shoulder. “Come on, you’re with me now. Harmless ol’ Maxence from Le Rosey.”
She gulped against the white cotton of his tee-shirt, and it almost sounded like a laugh had tried to break through her tears. “That was not the reputation you had in high school.”
“Oh, sure it was.”
Her arms sneaked around his waist. “You know it’s not.”
“We can pretend it was if it will make you stop crying.”
She leaned back enough to wipe her face with his limp shirt again, and then she looked up at him.
Red puffiness from weeping rimmed her dark, lovely eyes. He’d liked her in high school, both as a chemistry study partner and more, but they’d never managed to get together due to one intervening relationship or another.
She said to him, “That’s not the reputation you had at all.”
Shame misted over him. “We don’t have to talk about that. I’m different, now.”
“I wish you weren’t. Pregnancy hormones are awful, the ones that make me cry and the other ones.”
“What other pregnancy hormones? I—oh.”
She’d leaned forward. Maxence had thought she was going to press her forehead against his shoulder to cry some more or sleep or something, but her lush lips brushed his neck under his jawline.
His pulse pounded under her warm breath.
His mind—always a spinning, bright landscape of chatter calculations—focused down to a laser-tight beam, and all he could feel was her.
This moment.
This woman.
Simone was absolutely beautiful, from the tender puff of her hair to the glittering, high-heeled sandals on her feet and every soft inch of her in between.
The gentleness of her lips moved on his throat.
His breath grew restless in his lungs, and his heart sped.
The satin of her fragrant skin with a hint of rose scent on her neck and shoulder and the plush silk of her under his fingers aroused his body and darkened his mind.
His soul was dying to touch her.
He’d wanted to taste her for fifteen years.
He clamped his arms around her slim figure. The energy coursing through his veins lifted him to stand on his knees, dragging her along with him. “Simone.”
Her answering hum near his shoulder drove him mad.
He lifted her as he stood, and she scrambled backward to settle her feet on the low bed. “My shoes,” she whispered against his skin. “I’ll ruin it.”
“Leave them on,” he said.
With Simone still wearing her high heels and standing on the bed that held her a foot above the floor, she was a bit taller than Maxence. She settled her arms over his shoulders. The corners of her lips lifted in a small smile with her lips parted as she realized her altitude and that her nose was above his, and he loved that joyful smile instead of her tears. She bounced a little on the mattress and straightened her posture, obviously enjoying her temporary height.
Maxence grabbed the back of her neck and held her while he kissed her, his mouth on hers, tasting the sweetness of her and showing her that even though she currently had about two inches on him, he was still in control.
Her arms tightened around his neck and shoulders, and she slumped in his arms like her knees had gone weak.
He almost laughed as he swept her long, curvy legs in that pink-shaded skirt from under her and caught her as she fell back,