Page 2 of One Night in Paris
Stopping by the front desk, I grabbed my room key and headed upstairs. The rule in Paris that you had to turn your key in at the front desk was always strange to me, but I went with the flow with most things.
Upstairs, I dropped my briefcase and headed out onto the balcony. A beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower in the distance greeted me. Breathing slowly, I let my lungs expand to release the nerves from earlier while I admired the architectural wonder. I’d been in love with the tower since I was a little kid, always sketching it, building it with my Legos. In a lot of ways, Eiffel’s work had been what inspired me to become an architect myself. Though I’d visited Paris a few times before, gazing at the Eiffel Tower would never get old for me.
After several minutes of staring at the incredible buildings around me, I headed back inside and gave the office a ring. Everyone was ecstatic to hear that I’d been able to negotiate the contract. The number Aubert had agreed to wasn’t even our lowest offer, though he obviously didn’t know that. I told everyone, “I’ll see you on Monday,” and hung up with a grin on my face.
A few hours later, after a nap, a shower, and a good meal, I headed out to this local bar I’d heard so much about. L’Eclair was a bistro during the day but a swanky hangout at night that served beer, wine, and other spirited beverages. The last time I was here in Paris, almost two years ago, I’d wanted to visit the place but hadn’t gotten the chance. Tonight, I had every reason to celebrate.
Approaching the door, I could already hear laughter and music coming from inside. A couple stepped out, their arms around one another, the man whispering something that sounded romantic in French to the woman. Grinning, I walkedaround them and headed inside. Falling in love in Paris was a dream for so many people. Tonight, I was just looking to drink. But if I found a beautifulfemmeto share the night with, well, so be it.
Inside, the place was exactly how I’d pictured it. Friends and lovers grouped at tables, laughing and talking, sipping on a variety of drinks from glasses and bottles. Music played over the speakers. A few couples were even dancing near their tables, despite the lack of room. Low lighting gave the place a romantic feel. I could see why this place had such rave reviews.
Then my eyes landed onher.
A petite brunette with curls cascading down her back, her perfect profile was enticing. Porcelain skin, long eyelashes, and a glittery pink dress that hugged her curves in all the right ways. I didn’t even need to see the woman’s face to know she was a knockout.
Clearly, she was also frustrated. Waving her hand, she stomped her foot, her high heel banging on the wood flooring. “Sir?Monsieur?” Shaking her head, she swore under her breath and turned to look back at a table where a few similarly dressed, though not as lovely, women were sitting, which I took to be her friends.
Her light brown eyes scanned across mine as she turned back around. For just a moment, a flicker, I held her gaze. My heart raced in my chest, my breathing staggered, and butterflies chased one another through my abdomen. This woman was a beauty, that was for damn sure.
She was also a damsel in distress. Who didn’t want to come to France to save a poor woman in need of assistance? Gallantly, I marched across the bar, my eyes glued on the bartender who was clearly preoccupied with a group of people he knew well enough to be telling jokes and laughing.
Shaking my head, I took matters into my own hands. First, I reached into my wallet and pulled out a crisp bill, holding it up for him to see. That caught his attention, but he wasn’t yet moving.
In my broken French, I asked the woman, “Combien de bières?”
Those dazzling eyes stared into mine for a moment before she giggled and said, “Uhm, two, please.” Her English was perfect—just like her.
Grinning, I reached over the counter and grabbed a couple of bottles of beer that were within my reach and then dropped the money down where he could see it. The bartender shook his head at me, but he didn’t even come over to stop me.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Her ruby-red lips split into a gorgeous grin, sending my heartrate into overdrive.
“You’re welcome.” She was welcome to the beer—and so much more.
2
HARPER
Who was this unbelievably sexy beer snatcher, and why had he wandered into my life?
Looking into the most amazing pair of emerald green eyes I’d ever seen, I tried to formulate a response. All he’d said was, “You’re welcome,” which could’ve elicited a million different responses from me, but I just stood there, frozen by his gaze, staring at him with a goofy grin on my face.
“I guess you’re not from around here.” He ran a hand along his perfectly square jaw in such a way that his muscular bicep strained against the black leather jacket he wore.
“Uhm, no. Just on vacation.” At least I’d managed to speak coherently when I’d replied. “Well, I don’t want to keep my friends waiting. Thanks again…?”
“Logan.” That crooked grin that showed off perfectly dazzling pearly whites made my heart leap out of my chest. God, this guy was dreamy. His dark hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place even in the slight rise above his right eye. The scent of pine and leather filled my lungs, making me a little dizzy. I needed to get back to the table with my friends and sit down before I swooned.
“Logan.” Repeating his name made my tongue feel like it was made of silk. I literally had to shake my head to clear my thoughts.
“And you are?”
Right—God, he had me so out of sorts I forgot my manners. “Harper.”
“Harper.” His smile widened. Hearing my name on his lips made my entire body purr.
“Hey, I’m thirsty!” one of my friends, Kylee, shouted from our table across the bar. A fit of giggles erupted from both her and my other friends, Charlotte and Desiree. The three of them were already a little tipsy, so it wouldn’t hurt them to wait for more alcohol.