Page 12 of All the Gossip from Paris
“Thanks. I got that one done while I was in New Zealand, last year.”
“Why a compass?”
“Um. I guess because I travel a lot.” Liam cleared his throat. “I thought I was being deep and meaningful, but every second guy I meet has a compass tattoo.”
Sophie smiled sweetly at him. “Well I like it. And I like you too.”
The hotel room might not think he belonged here, but the message this beautiful French woman was sending him spoke louder.
“Would you like a glass of champagne?” she asked.
If she kept looking at him like that, he was going to need a glass of something stronger. Sophie Royal was stunning. He was alone with her in her hotel suite. And she was sending him all the right signals.
“I’ll have whatever you are having,” he replied. His brain was currently incapable of coming up with anything that made sense in the drink department.
“Bon! Let’s see what wine they have in the bar.”
She moved away, and walked out of the room. The sound of glasses clinking soon reached Liam’s ears.
What had she said about his shoes and socks? Ah, yes. Take them off.
He unlaced his boots. When he’d first started out as a photographer he’d gone with sneakers, but found they didn’t last. And when a career involved being constantly on the move, traveling the world, comfort and durability were paramount.
After removing his socks, Liam stuffed them into his boots. He’d just put his boots under the chair, when Sophie reappeared. She held a glass of white wine in either hand.
Her gaze went to his bare feet. “I love the feel of walking on carpet. For some reason the bounce makes me happy. My mother is all about highly polished floorboards and marble, but give me a shagpile any day.”
Liam rose from his chair, and took the drink Sophie offered him. “Thanks.”
She nodded at the glass. “It’s a Chardonnay from Sonoma Mountain in California. I didn’t used to touch any American wines, because … well I’m French and we make the best wines in the world. But Camille got me onto some good ones. I have to say, they aren’t terrible.”
He couldn’t help himself. Liam burst out laughing. “If that’s a compliment about Californian wines, then I’d hate to hear what you have to say when you don’t like something.”
The grin on Sophie’s face was a delight. The sparkle in her hazel eyes held him captive. Their gazes were still locked as they raised their glasses and toasted one another. “Sante.”
“Ah, so you do know the French way to toast,” she said.
“As I said earlier, I’ve been to France a couple of times. And I do enjoy a glass of wine. Especially when it’s in the company of a woman such as you, Sophie.”
Thank heavens he’d found his voice again. The sweet smile Sophie gifted him in response settled things. He wouldn’t be checking his watch again. When the last train bound for East Orange, New Jersey pulled out of the station tonight, it was going to be short one passenger.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A short time later there was a gentle knock at the door of the suite. Sophie set down her drink and hurried to answer it. In the entrance stood a woman in a black suit. She held four large black and white Saks Fifth Avenue department store bags in her hands.
“My apologies for the delay Ms. Royal. But I took the liberty to go looking for a few extra pieces.”
There was a reason why high end hotels were able to charge the prices they did. The front of house team at Royal Resorts was paid to anticipate their guests every need.
Sophie followed the woman over to the dining table, eagerly opening the first of the bags as soon as it had been set down.
“Did you want me to wait while the gentleman tries the clothes on?” asked the woman.
“No, that won’t be necessary. I’m sure they will all fit.”
She wasn’t going to make mention of the fact that the gentleman in question had disappeared the second she’d gone to open the door.
“Well then, please let me know if you need anything else. We are here to ensure your stay is a comfortable one.”
