ways later today when I get the next train, I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Besides, it seems like he’s put me up in a wildly expensive hotel. I gingerly turn my head and look around the room, which is about three times the size of the last dorm room I stayed in that housed six bunk beds.
I let out a whistle under my breath as I take it all in. From the four-poster king bed to the embroidered chairs and the chandeliers, it looks like I’ve been holing up in some luxurious seaside chateau.
Jeez Louise.
For a split second, it feels like getting attacked was the best thing that could have happened to me—until the slightest movement brings shooting pain back to my ankle.
Shit. Ow, ow, ow.
I roll up my pant leg and stare at the bandages. I don’t remember what the doctor said about them. Do I change them? Tighten them? How long do I stay off my foot? I don’t even remember using crutches.
And yet there they are, looking woefully out of place, resting against an antique white wardrobe across from the bed.
“Okay,” I say out loud, taking in a deep breath. “Think, Sadie. What did the doctor say?”
But I’ve got nothing. I’m just crippled and talking to myself and cursing myself for not understanding French. I should have asked more questions. Now Olivier is probably gone and I’m alone and—
A knock at the door.
My heart leaps.
“Hello?” I cry out, trying to figure out how to hobble to the door to open it. I move to swing my legs over the edge of the bed, but it’s already so painful I have to stop.
“Sadie?” Olivier’s voice comes through the door. “Are you decent?”
“Yeah,” I say, and before I can force myself to get up and limp over, the door starts to unlock.
What the fuck? How does he have a key?
The door swings open, and his head pops around the corner, brows raised in concern. “S’il vous plaît, don’t get up!”
Then the door opens wider, and suddenly what looks to be a butler is pushing in a cart topped with metal-domed plates.
“Merci, Marcel,” Olivier says quietly to the butler, who exits as quickly as he came in. The door closes behind him, and I’m left in the room with Olivier, my eyes jumping from Olivier to the cart and then back to Olivier.
Of course, there’s no secret why my gaze keeps going back to him because, Christ on a cracker, now that it’s the light of day and I’m out of danger and the pain is only somewhat excruciating, I’m really seeing him for the first time.
The man is fucking gorgeous.
I mean, like the kind of guy you see on an ad for Hugo Boss or something. The kind of guy God definitely didn’t make enough of. The kind of guy you can probably only find in the South of France.
And he’s here. In my hotel room.
Or maybe this is his hotel room?
“How did you get in here?” I ask after I find my voice.
He holds up a room key. “La clé.”
“I assume that means key? Why do you have a key?”
He tilts his head as a small amused smile teases his lips. “Why wouldn’t I? This is my room.”
“Your room?” I exclaim, looking around. My God, did he sleep here with me?
I feel a shot of warmth between my legs. Holy hell, the mere thought of that shouldn’t be turning me on.
“No,” he says matter-of-factly. “I slept in the villa. I would have put you in there, but it’s a bit out of the way. Usually occupied by royal families or celebrities on getaways, but it was free last night.”
I stare at him. “I don’t understand.”
He gestures to the cart. “This is your breakfast. I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered pretty much everything on the menu.”
Get. The fuck. Out.
I shake my head, scoffing. “No. This can’t be real. You are not real.”
“I’m very real.”
“I’m dreaming then.”
“I can pinch you if you want,” he says, his silken voice dropping a register, a devious glint in his eyes. The kind of look that increases the heat between my thighs. Oh, fuck me, I’m in trouble. He should know how dangerous those looks are when they’re coming from him. Or maybe he does know.
I take him in again, the V-neck white T-shirt that looks especially soft, showing off his olive skin, darkened from the summer sun. He’s taller than I remember, at least six foot,