Page 14 of Guilty as Sin

"And our place in Paris has a view of the Eiffel Tower."

"Naturally."

"And a huge bed."

My breath catches. "Just one?"

His eyes darken. "That depends entirely on you."

The implication hangs between us, impossible to misinterpret. Both brothers. Again. At the same time. The thought should scandalize me, but instead, heat pools low in my belly.

"Zoe." Rolf's voice is closer now. He stands in the doorway, watching us with that intense gaze. “The car will wait as long as needed, but the pilot expects a departure time."

I look between them—Karl's playful charm, Rolf's steady strength—and decide.

"I need ten more minutes," I say, my voice steadier than expected. "And then I'm all yours. Both of yours."

The look that passes between the brothers speaks volumes. Permission granted, boundaries acknowledged, excitement shared.

Karl returns to selecting clothes while Rolf nods and retreats to the living room. I duck into the bathroom to gather my toiletries, catching my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes bright with anticipation. I barely recognize myself—this woman on the verge of flying to Paris with two men she just met.

"What are you doing, Zoe?" I whisper to my reflection.

The responsible part of me tries to surface—reminding me of deadlines, the presentation I was supposed to prepare for investors next week, and my mother's inevitable disapproval. But for once, I push those thoughts away.

I finish packing in record time. When I emerge with my suitcase, both men rise from my sofa to assist.

"Ready?" Karl asks, reaching for my bag.

"I should call Harper,” I say, my last grasp at responsibility.

Rolf pulls out his phone. "What's the number? I'll handle it."

I blink. "You can't just?—"

"I can be very persuasive," he says simply.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll call her from Paris,” I answer under my breath. Harper will only talk me out of this, and I don’t want to listen to reason. Not now.

Twenty minutes later, I'm settled in the back of their limousine, sandwiched between two of the most gorgeous men I've ever met, on my way to their private jet. This was not how I expected my weekend to go.

Karl's hand rests casually on my knee, his thumb tracing small circles that send shivers up my spine. On my other side, Rolf maintains a respectful distance, but I feel his attention like a physical touch.

"You're very quiet," Karl observes as we glide through the nighttime streets. "Having second thoughts?"

"No," I answer truthfully. I'm just… processing. Last night, I was just regular Zoe heading to a business meeting. Now I'm jetting off to Paris with—" I pause, unsure how to define them.

"With us," Rolf completes my sentence. His hand finds mine, fingers intertwining with deliberate precision. "We understand this is unorthodox."

"That's one word for it." I laugh nervously.

"We don't casually do this," Karl says, his voice suddenly serious. "This isn't a habit or a game for us."

"Then what is it?" I ask.

"An exception," Rolf answers.

"Because something about you," Karl continues, "makes us want so much more."

---