Page 71 of Tamed By You

“I have. I’m surprised you have. What other tricks have you got hiding up sleeve, Mr. Walker?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Miss Hart?” His tone is playful.

Hell, yeah, I would.

His suggestive words temporarily distract me, and I wobble on my heel as we turn the corner. Harry thankfully catches me before I roll my ankle.

“Woah there, has my girl had a little too much to drink?” he teases.

My girl?

I don’t correct him because, deep down, I don’t want to. Today has been a dream, like living in a bubble and I don’t want to burst it. Not yet.

“I think I might have had a teeny tiny bit too much,” I slur, using my thumb and index finger to gesture a small amount, trying to put one foot in front of the other without stumbling. But no such luck. I stumble again as my heel gets caught in a gap in the street.

Damn these old, cobbled streets.

Before I can protest, his large arms wrap around my thighs and hoist me up over his broad shoulder. I squeal in excitement as he breaks into a light jog. My hair tumbles down around my face, getting caught in between my fingers as I grasp desperately to the fabric of his pants, needing something to hold on to as my body slides down his back.

“Harry, I’m falling,” I scream, but not in fear. I feel anything but fear when I am with him.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he says breathlessly.

“Put me down,” I say, hitting his butt with my purse.

He continues to jog, his grip on me tightening, hand on my ass, preventing my dress from riding up and exposing me to the people of Paris. He rounds a street and then comes to an abrupt stop, planting me on my feet. It takes me a second to regain my focus and steady myself. My eyes zone in on a giant blue wall covered in different styles of writing.

“What’s this?” I ask, pointing to the wall.

“The wall of love,” he says a little hesitantly, as if unsure about bringing me here. “It has just about every language and every way to say I love you. It’s one of the many things Paris is famous for. I thought you might want to see it, to, you know, take a picture to send to the girls.”

I give him a coy smile, chewing on the inside of my cheek. I’m not the shy, coy type, but he stirs up feelings and emotions that I never thought capable of feeling. In the past few days, he has done more for me than anyone ever has in my lifetime.

I open my purse, take out my phone, and snap a few photos, sending a couple to Ria and Gabby.

I walk closer to the wall, running my fingertips over the written words, not understanding a word of it but still completely mesmerized. “It’s beautiful,” I say in a hushed tone. My eyes never leave the wall, traveling along taking all the different words till my eyes land on his. I still, the way he’s looking at me has my belly fluttering.

“Do you know what languages these are?” I ask, pointing to a cluster of words.

“Yeah, that’s Italian, this one is Spanish…” he trails off, pointing out different words and telling me the nationality.

“Okay,Rosetta Stone. Who knew you could speak so many languages?” He lets out a low deep chuckle that has me grinning like a love-struck teenager.

“I don’t know all the words, but my mom and dad traveled a lot when we were kids and they made it a thing that we learned some basic language before visiting a country.”

“That’s very smart of them.”

“It was.”

“So, say something to me in Spanish.” I eye him curiously, not entirely convinced he can speak it.

“Quiero tener sexo contigo,” he says with ease.

“What does that mean?” My eyebrows shoot up in surprise at how well he speaks.

“I want to have sex with you,” he says in a suggestive tone, sliding his hands around my waist and burying his head in the crook of my neck.

I shove his chest playfully. “Trust you to know that line.” I chuckle, tapping my index finger on my chin thinking about what else to ask him. “Okay, say something in Italian.”

---