Page 49 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

More laughter, and then the conversation turned back to Paris and how Aria was too excited to go to sleep, but she knew she needed to and really wanted to which sometimes made it even harder to sleep.

Even though she was keyed up, something about the tone of her voice and her close proximity began to relax me. I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually slept next to anybody or even in the same room with someone. I'd have to go all the way back to when I'd had roommates in boarding school.

I hated the act of sleeping with anybody usually and avoided it like the plague. No woman had ever spent the night in my bed. But with Aria, it couldn't be helped. In order to pull off this fake dating thing, we had to act like a real couple, and real couples slept in the same bed.

At least there was a crack between us acting as a natural buffer. I wouldn't think about our hotel in Paris where there truly was only one bed. Or my usual insomnia. Or the nightmares. Or how mortifying it'd be if I had one while sleeping near Aria.

Once we were there, I'd have to figure out a way to create some space between us because I just couldn't take that chance. Or maybe I wouldn't sleep at all.

Sixteen

Aria

Déjà vu washed over me, filling me with a sense of dread. Despite an amazing day at a spa that Ethan had surprised me with, all that relaxation fled my body at the feeling that I'd been here before. On a man's arm entering a fancy gala. Destined to get my heart broken.

Ethan leaned down, so close I could feel his breath on my cheek. "Don't worry," he whispered, "you won't find me in a closet screwing my assistant."

I almost laughed, almost, but I stopped myself so I didn't look completely unhinged during our big entrance. Descending the small set of steps into the Jardin de Lumière, I focused on walking like a normal human being in the sky-high heels I hadn't worn in ages.

Chase hadn't liked them because they made me a little taller than him. But Ethan? I glanced up at him. He still towered over me. For once in my life, I felt like a small girl with my man. I mean, my fake man.

Ethan's arm was strong under my grasp, so steady and firm that I clutched onto him even harder, somehow completely confident that he wouldn't mind. Besides, we had a part to play tonight.

As we entered the garden space, I was immediately struck by the magical atmosphere. Every inch was bathed in the soft glow of twinkling lights, casting a warm and inviting spell that took my breath away. Colorful flower displays filled every corner, their sweet fragrance saturating the air, magnifying the night's theme of springtime in Paris.

"This is beautiful," I gasped to Ethan's amused gaze.

Arm in arm, we walked around, first checking out the art auction which showcased up-and-coming artists, capturing the essence of the modern-day Parisian art scene. While we wandered the event, I scanned the faces, looking for anyone I might recognize. But that was the beauty of being in another country. I didn't recognize a single soul, and it was a huge relief.

While a live jazz band played classic tunes with a French flair, we made our way over to a flower arch where people posed for a professional photographer. When it was our turn, I couldn't help thinking about how these photos would hopefully wind up in front of Chase's eyes.

A flutter of nerves surged through me as I did my best to keep smiling. Was it obvious we were faking it? Did we really look like we were an actual couple?

Ethan's arm squeezed around my waist, causing me to look up at him. His smile was so bright that those adorable dimples showed. As he stared down into my eyes, it seemed like he was trying to tell me something, something I couldn't quite figure out.

"Relax, darling," he said in a low voice. "We're in fucking Paris."

I laughed, a real genuine laugh, as the cameras clicked away, my tension dissipating as Ethan's eyes continued to capture mine like I was the only woman in the world for him. Boy, was he good at this. Ethan Locke sure knew how to turn on the charm when it was needed.

And not for the first time tonight, I kind of ogled him, appreciating how nicely he filled out his suit, his devilishly handsome face, his perfectly mussed up hair. I'd seen him many times in a suit, but this was different somehow. It was for me. For us. Now that I was beginning to get to know the man beneath the clothes, well, how much of my eye-fucking was acting, and how much was real?

Finally, we finished our photo session and sat down for dinner at a table for two placed near the edge of the garden, Ethan pulling out a chair for me and doing the gentlemanly thing again.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" he asked as he poured us each a glass of champagne.

"You did, but you don't have to again." I glanced around, noting that no one was watching us at the moment. "You can lay off the fake dating thing," I added quietly.

A small smile played at the corners of his lips. "Maybe," he murmured.

As we savored our meal, I couldn't help but be impressed by the exquisite French cuisine. Each dish was a masterpiece, and I found myself enjoying everything more than I even thought I would.

"So, what's your professional opinion about this whole set-up?" Ethan asked between bites, his expression curious. "What did they do that's positively atrocious?"

I looked at my surroundings again, taking in the entire scene. "This is absolute perfection," I replied honestly. "There's nothing I would change tonight."

"Not even the company?" Ethan teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Hmm, maybe," I joked, a playful smile tugging at my lips as I caught his gaze.

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