Page 19 of Sinful Escape

“Hey, Daisy, we’re going to check out some bars. Maybe you could show us around?” The way Roman said it, with a pleading lilt and hope in his eyes, made the question even more odd.

These guys were all young and attractive, and it made no sense that they’d want someone like me with them. It wasn’t like I was dressed for a night on the town. Oh my god. It suddenly made sense. Roman felt sorry for me. He was inviting me to my very own pity party. I straightened my shoulders and looked into his breathtaking eyes. “No way. You lot are trouble, and I want no part of it.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.” Roman playfully nudged my shoulder.

“No, no, no. You guys go have a good time. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I was surprised by the disappointment in Roman’s eyes.

“Pity.” Mike’s gaze lingered on my breasts just a little too long before he turned toward his mates. “Come on, let’s get going.” He and his friends moved toward the elevator.

Roman hung back with me. “I don’t understand. You said you wanted to go out more and I just gave you the perfect opportunity.”

“I know, it’s just?—”

“Just what, Red?”

I blinked up at him, puzzled by the fire in his tone.

His molten eyes darkened, and when his Adam’s apple bobbed, I had a dreadful feeling I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say. I looked over at the Americans congregating at the elevator and pondered a quick escape.

Roman may’ve sensed my flighty intentions because he placed his hand on my shoulder. “What’s your age? Like thirty-three, thirty-four?”

I gasped. “I’m twenty-nine, thank you very much.”

“Sorry. But that’s my point. You act like you’re ninety. You only had one drink and even that you barely touched. You said you don’t go out much. You frown all the time. It’s like you’re dying on the inside. What happened to you? You should live a little.”

Shocked into silence, I blinked up at him.

His observations were brutal.

Especially when every word was true.

I’d become an old woman.

Chapter Five

It took all my might to keep my emotions in check as we rode the lift together. Not bursting into tears was even harder. Waving him off, I wished him goodnight and stepped out onto my floor. I dragged myself into my room, shut the door behind me, and tossed my bag onto the table.

You act like you’re ninety.

Dying on the inside.

Roman’s comments slammed into me like a wrecking ball.

What happened to you?

How dare he say those things to me. He had no idea what I’d been through.

If he was saying that shit to me on day one, then my final six months in Europe with him were going to be pure hell. The bricks of life weren’t meant to be smooth or straightforward. But damn it, why did mine have to be like a box of fucking LEGO?

My chin quivered, and I fought it with clenched fists and a clamped jaw. I was not going to cry. The walls closed in, squeezing my sanity. I had to get out of there.

After grabbing my novel and bag, I strode from my room, a woman on a mission.

The antique gold bell above the door chimed as I stepped over the threshold of Château de Vins et Antiquités. What looked like a tiny café from the outside was so much more. The front half was the restaurant, but the back half was an antique store, offering a world of charm and hidden secrets to explore. It was a clever concept.

“Bonsoir, Pierre. C’est Daisy.” After announcing my arrival at the vacant restaurant, I aimed for my usual table by the window, took a seat, and put my bag on the spare chair.

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