Page 31 of Sinful Temptations

I’d become a randy little nymphomaniac trying to figure out how I could have sex. Not any old sex. I was talking smoking-hot, out-of-this-world sex. The size of Luca’s erection had blown my mind. And when he’d ejaculated over me, good lord, that had been hot.

Rampant images swirled around my brain like pretty fireflies. It was a wonder I wasn’t drooling. I checked my chin, just to be sure.

“I’d say that was a yes.”

Roman interrupted my fantasizing. “Huh?”

“You want to see him. It’s okay. I am ready to be your wingman.”

I bulged my eyes at him. “What?”

“I will look after these guys . . .” He thumbed over his shoulder. “. . . so you can roll in the hay with stable boy.”

I gave him the evil eye.

“All right . . . Luuuuuca.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The passengers need me.”

“I’ll take them on the tour through the château to the high tea, and you go to Luca. Yes?”

“You can’t do that.”

“Yes, I can. They won’t know the difference.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Ummm, no, you can’t. And of course they will.”

“Well, I won’t be exactly like you.” He palmed his chest. “I’ll make it more interesting.”

“Really?” I said with the sarcasm it deserved.

“Yes, really. And what I don’t know I will make up.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I bet you would.”

“I can. Trust me. Besides . . .” He glanced into the largemirror above us. “. . . by the time they’ve devoured their high tea, they’ll have forgotten every word I said.”

Twisting my fingers into knots, I contemplated his suggestion.

After what had happened with Pierre, I couldn’t do it. Not until I knew for sure that Luca was single. I’d make this month my fact-finding mission. Next month . . . who knew what would happen?

Done. Decision made.

I shifted in my seat to look Roman square in the eyes. “The answer is no. Your job is to get us safely from A to B. And you do a mighty fine job of that too, I might add. Looking after the passengers is my job. I’m not going to jeopardize my career.”

He frowned. “But you are going to lose your job soon anyway.”

“Yeah. In five months. Thanks for reminding me.”

“Don’t act like you forgot. You don’t forget anything.”

“That’s beside the point.” I attempted to drive my fingers through my hair but gave up on the crazy mess. “Right now, I am employed, so I have work to do.”

He shrugged and turned the bus onto the road that led to Château de Fontainebleau. “Whatever you say.” He mumbled something under his breath in Italian and other than the wordstupido,I had no idea what he’d said.

Choosing to ignore him, I squirted sanitizer into my hands and rubbing it in, inhaled the lovely lemongrass scent before I grabbed the microphone. “Wake up, sleepyheads, we’re arriving at our next destination in about five minutes.”

As they roused from their slumber, I gave my usual spiel listing what was special about the royal château. The wheels crunched on gravel confirming Roman had turned into the long tree-lined drive that served as the entrance. A few minutes later, he parked and killed the engine.

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