Page 65 of Meet Mason, the Billionaire

Which was erotic and sweet all at once, by the way. He helped me step into a fresh pair of undies and then slid my dress over my head.

Only when the door opened up and a blast of warm, fresh air hit my face did he remove the blindfold. I blinked in the sudden brightness as my eyes adjusted.

When I saw the Eiffel tower, I knew exactly where we were.

“Oh my God. Did you just bring me to Paris for a museum trip?”

“No, I brought you to Paris for a trip to THE museum. The Louvre. In fact, we should get moving.”

I frowned, and checked my phone. It had adjusted to local time. “I’m sorry to break it to you hon, but the Louvre has very short hours all things considered, and they’ll be closing soon.”

“I know. That’s why we have to get going.”

“The Louvre is huge. You don't understand, we can’t just run through it in five minutes.”

“Whoever said that we had to?” He grinned ear to ear, making his face more handsome by far. “Our firm donated money to repair some flood damage in the Louvre. I arranged for us to have two and a half hours after the museum closes to look at whatever we want.”

I felt strangely self-conscious about that. I fidgeted on the steps of the plane, not sure what to do or say. Mason’s smile faded as he realized my turmoil.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just—god, it’s too much! First you fly me across the ocean in your private plane, tell me you’re going to take me on a fabulous shopping trip, and now I get a private tour of the Louvre. The fucking Louvre! I don’t feel like I’m worthy of all of this. That’s what’s wrong.”

“Megan,” he said, brushing his hand down my arm. “Of course you’re worthy. If anyone here is unworthy, it’s me. I feel like all of this is nothing compared to the joy you bring to my life each and every moment we’re together.”

I covered my face with my hands as my shoulders shook with sobs.

Well, that freaked Mason out. He quickly got me into the waiting limousine, and got me a bottle of water.

“What’s the matter? Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” I said, sniffling. “I just… you’re so good to me. You say all the right things and I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I keep waiting for you to, I don’t know, turn into my ex-boyfriend. Like you’ve been pretending to like me all this time.”

“I’m not that good an actor,” Mason said. “I want nothing more than to spend every minute I can with you. If you don’t believe me yet, then I guess I’ll just have to keep proving it to you until you do believe me.”

I snuggled up next to him and sighed. “Please don’t break my heart, Mason. I won’t survive. I’ll just die. You hear me? You can’t dangle this… perfection in front of me and then take it all away. I’ll die.”

“I would never do that to you,” he said, his eyes welling with tears as well. We clutched at each other, holding tight and rocking gently in the back of the limo.

When we reached the Louvre, though, I was all smiles. Just the sight of I.M. Pei’s gridwork pyramid out front made my heart soar.

“I can’t believe that I’m here!” I said, prancing with excitement like a happy pony. “Ooh, take my pic in front of the pyramid! My friends are so going to eat their hearts out.”

“I like this work,” Mason said as I struck a pose in front of the pyramid and he snapped a pic.

“Oh yeah? Well, when it first debuted people fucking HATED it. Using the word hate here. Now they’ve mellowed out, though.”

“Why did they hate it?”

“I don’t know. The Parisians hated the Eiffel Tower at first, too. I think they don’t like change and are inherently disgruntled.”

We made it inside the museum, and Mason spoke to a man in a black suit who soon ushered us in past the gendarmes pushing people out the door.

“So what do you want to see first?” Mason asked. “The Mona Lisa?”

I frowned, considering it. “Maybe. It’s not as impressive as it sounds. From what I hear, anyway. It’s supposed to be pretty small.”

“Yes, but it’s famous.”

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