Page 78 of One Time in Paris
She gave him a pretty, sultry smile. “I guess you’ll have to wonder. But I guess we’ll never know.”
He hung his head. “Are you trying to torture me?”
“No.” She went over to the bathroom and turned the sink on, then came back with a toothbrush in hand. “But since you keep flipping the script on me and making me feel like I want you more than you want me, you’re going to have to earn your way into my pants, Aiden Camden.”
His lips parted for a few beats, then he groaned. He tossed the sheet to the side, gesturing to the bulge in his boxer briefs. “And this isn’t proof enough?”
Her eyes focused on him for a long moment—God, I love how she doesn’t hide what she wants—then she shrugged casually. “Like I said. Earn it. But if you don’t want Quinn to find out about us, you might want to head back to the house now anyway.” She winked. “I’m going to hop into the shower and get all wet and naked. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Aiden growled as she closed the bathroom door. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re punishing me,” he called.
“So what if I am?” she called back from the other side. The water turned on. “You made me cry. You’re going to have to prove you really want me now, Aiden.”
Dammit.
He dropped his head back against the pillow. Trust Isla to be unpredictable. She knew how to turn him into knots.
“You always leave, Aiden. What makes me any different?”She made everything different, but she wasn’t wrong either.
Her tears? He wasn’t sure if he could forgive himself for those tears she’d shed last night. Staying was insane, but he’d been helpless to do anything but after that.
He got out of bed and dressed, checking his mobile. It was early still—just after six—but that was late for him. And Quinn rarely slept past four.
“Fuck,” he breathed, then scrambled for his shoes.
He shoved his mobile into his pocket, then left, hurrying across the patio. Maybe if he went for a quick run, he could just convince Quinn he’d been out running?—
Quinn and Mason stood near the French doors, watching him.
Oh, goddammit.
They had to have seen him leave the guesthouse.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Aiden gave them a tight smile, then went inside the house. “Morning,” he managed, moving to scoot past them.
Quinn already had a fistful of his shirt in his grasp. He shoved Aiden roughly back against the door, the glass vibrating, and loomed intimidatingly, despite the fact that Quinn was a few inches shorter than him. “She’s like our sister,” he said through clenched teeth.
“But she’snotactually our sister,” Aiden snapped, resisting the urge to push back. A physical fight wouldn’t help matters right now.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s Isla. And you’re...you.Callum would be furious.”
Mason gave him a look as though to say,told you.
“I didn’t touch her,” Aiden said, shoving Quinn off him at last. It wasalmosttrue.
Quinn gave him a skeptical look.
“All right,” Aiden corrected. “I may have touched, but I didn’t have sex with her. We just slept. She was sad, and I comforted her.”
“So. ..you’re friends who sleep in the same bed? Kiss? Because I really don’t know what the hell you’re thinking, Aiden. This is a new low for you in terms of stupid, bullheaded obtuseness.”
“It’s a bit worse than that,” Mason muttered unhelpfully.
He really was going to murder his younger brother.
Quinn’s eyes shot to him, then widened. “You knew about this?”
“Shut your mouth, Mason,” Aiden said, drawing himself to his full height.
