The Billionaire's Second Endeavour ( SAMPLE ) ✓

03 | PARIS: THAT AWKWARD MOMENT

JOYCE

Vincent booked a VIP lounge upstairs for us, which didn't come as a surprise. He was, after all, a billionaire. Though I didn't understand his need to spend time with me. He could've had anyone in the club, even one of those girls his friend was with.

The area was larger than the lounges with a semi-round couch around a round table that had a red wine bottle dipped in a bucket of ice.

"Deux verres, s'il vous plaît," V said to the waiter, who handed him two glasses and walked away with a grin.

I looked back at Vincent and said, "You seem to be quite fluent in French. Were you born here?" I sat on the couch with one leg crossed over the other.

He popped open the wine and poured us both a glass. "I was born in London. But when one's doing international business, it's best to be multilingual, is it not?"

"That's exactly what I get told now and then. The only languages I can speak are English, as you know, and Italian and Spanish." I shrugged. "Though I can say a few words in French, it's not one of my best suits."

He smiled and walked toward the couch to give me a flute before taking his seat beside me. The couch had plenty of space to sit, yet he had chosen the seat closest to me, so close that our arms brushed. The slightest touch made me straighten and gulp, my entire body tightening.

The thought that I was now free of my tormented past was wrong. There were times when I felt like I couldn't be near a man, simply because I feared being touched. But with Vincent, it was strange. It was as though I knew he was safe, yet it scared me where this night might lead to.

"What brings you here to Paris?" I asked, trying to keep up the conversation because silence was risky.

"Business," he answered. "But luckily I finished early and came here to relieve my mind of all the shit I deal with. Now I'm glad I came with my friend, despite him being a bit of an ass."

His accent was a mix of American and British, with a bit more stress on the British side. I wished I had paid more attention to the magazines. I had only noticed his pretty face, had commented on how he had ladies lined and the way he treated them. Now it was my turn to see how he actually treated them.

"What about you? What brings you to Paris?"

"Same as you. Work." I slumped back with the untouched glass of wine still in my hands. "Met some investors. Got the contract signed."

"Sounds like an interesting job. What do you do?"

"I work at my father's firm. Still getting a grasp of things. Today's contract was the latest development project Dad has been working on for quite some time."

"Development projects? What's the name of the firm? I may know it."

I arched a brow at him, taking a tiny sip of the wine. I wasn't sure drinking with him was a good idea, given how devilishly handsome he was and the way he made me feel. "Now that defeats the whole purpose of remaining strangers, doesn't it?"

"Is it too late to say I hate the idea?"

I chuckled. "Yes. I'm afraid it is."

His eyes dropped to my lips as I twisted my head to look at his face. It was hard not to. He should've sat across the couch from me so that I could see his face while keeping a safe distance between me and him. As if his presence wasn't alluring enough, his strong, minty scent wafted to my nose, rendering me stiff for a moment before I forcefully averted my gaze.