Page 2 of One Time in Paris
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Aiden Camden was infuriatingly good-looking. He knew it, and so did a string of brokenhearted women. Isla had sworn she’d never be one of them. And she wouldn’t be.
So how the heck did we get here?
Goddammit.
“Um...” Isla glanced over her shoulder toward the closet.
“You feeling poorly?” Aiden squinted at her like she might spontaneously combust.
On the other hand, she wouldn’t mind spontaneously combusting right now.Where’s a good bolt of lightning when you need it?
She nodded. “Uh...yeah. Your closet has seen better days. So has my dignity.”
He grimaced. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Then you can start by helping me find my clothes.” All she wanted to do was get the hell out of there.Right now.Get back to her room and find out why Davy had abandoned her in the middle of the night. Where had the rest of the girls in the bachelorette party gone?
Wrapping a sheet around his waist, Aiden stumbled out of the bed. It wasn’t fair, really. He was just as hungover as she was, but she looked like she’d been dragged by a bus and he looked, well, beautiful. Chiseled abs. Dark hair just slightly ruffled. Five o’clock shadow.
Damn those Camden brothers. Every single one of them was stupidly good-looking.
Even if she wasn’t slightly interested in Aiden, she could admit that fact.
Okay, so maybe being here proved that some subconsciousdrunkenpart of herwasinterested, but it didn’t make the situation any better. Callum would kill her if he knew.For that matter, Callum would kill Aiden.
Aiden grabbed a pair of trousers from the floor as he scooted past her, then left the room, going farther into the suite. A minute later, he returned—trousers on—with her slinky silver minidress in his hand. “Found this by the door. Presumably flung there in a moment of artistic abandon.”
She did her best not to react.By the door?Her clothes had come off that quickly?
Holy shit.
“Turn around,” she demanded, taking the dress from him.
He didn’t hesitate. “We need to get our story straight. Callum...hecannotknow about this.”
“There’s nothing to figure out,” she said, shimmying into her dress. “I won’t tell him and neither will you. That’s simple enough. You’ve got a girlfriend anyway, so I very much doubt either of us wantsanyoneto find out.”
“Lola’s not my girlfriend,” Aiden said flatly. “I told you that last night.”
“Currently.” Isla checked around for the strappy heels and clutch she was sure must be somewhere nearby. “Every other time I see you, you’re back together again.”
Aiden didn’t respond, going over to the closet. He opened it, blinked once, then promptly shut it again. “Right. Well. That’s traumatizing.”
Good God, the embarrassment.How was she ever going to look Aiden in the eye again?
It wasn’t like she never saw him. She’d be seeing him soon enough at Liddy and Callum’s post-elopement party in London, which her brother and his new wife had finally managed to plan despite the logistical nightmare of having Isla’s divorced parents agree on one place to celebrate. Isla had suggested they do the party in Costa Rica atLa Hacienda, which would have been perfect because she wouldn’t have had to travel now that she was running the boutique inn full-time.
But her parentshadn’tagreed to Isla’s suggestion, and now she had to go all the way to London for a party where the Camden brothers would all be in attendance since they lived in Londonandwere Callum’s closest friends.
“Um. Yes, well. This ...was...something. I’ll see you in London.” She slung her clutch’s strap around her wrist and started for the door.
“Isla, wait.”
She turned in the hallway to find Aiden standing there, hands in his pockets. She bit the inside of her lip, stomach roiling with the same nausea she’d woken up with.
“For what it’s worth—not that I have much memory of the blessed event, thanks to a massive amount of gin—I don’t think much happened between us. I was practically non-functional. I can’t even remember the last time I got this smashed, and as soon as you leave, I’m going straight back to sleep.”
