Page 36 of Royally Romanov
She neglected to mention the fact that Maxim no longer felt like a stranger. Or that she sort of did want to sleep with him now.
A lot, actually. A whole lot. She wanted to sleep with him a lot of times, in a lot of ways.
But that was an insane idea. Completely 100 percent crazy. And it wasn’t happening. It probably wouldn’t have even crossed her mind if Scott hadn’t brought it up.
Keep telling yourself that.
“You don’t sleep withanyone, Finley.” Scott’s gaze softened in a way that made her feel like crying all of a sudden. “That’s the problem.”
“Not true. I sleep with Gerard every night.” She glanced at the bulldog snoring in the corner and sniffed. She was crying now. Great. Could this night get any worse?
Scott reached across the counter and covered her hand with his. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m saying this because I care about you. You’ve got to get out there, girl. This is Paris. The city of love.”
She lifted a brow. “I thought you said I should sleep with him, not marry him.”
“You’ve got to start somewhere. This is the first time in two years I’ve seen you show any interest in someone. He might not be the most suitable choice...”Understatement of the century. “... but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun, does it?”
He winked at her, and she longed for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.
How desperate did he think she was? “It’s not happening.”
“I’m not certain I believe you.” He looked at her with an expression that was all too knowing, until her face grew hot. She was finished with this conversation.
“Seriously, it’s not.” She squared her shoulders and tried to muster up a morsel of dignity.
“You’re obviously attracted to the guy.” He frowned. “It is because he might be royal? If so, you might want to set your sights on Prince Harry instead. You know, a royal hottie who wouldn’t ruin your career.”
Finley rolled her eyes. Wasn’t Prince Harry supposed to be dating someone? Anyway, why did that even matter? Scott was missing the entire point. “It has nothing whatsoever to do with being royal. This entire mess wouldn’t be a problem if Maxim were a regular person.”
What was she even saying? His royal status had yet to be confirmed. It never would be.
Scott’s eyebrows rose. “You believe him, don’t you? You think Anastasia is his grandmother.”
“I didn’t say that.” She glared at him. “He’snotroyal, and I’mnotsleeping with him. Frankly, I can’t believe you suggested that I jump into bed with him.”
“Sure you can. I’ll even go so far as to say that’s why you came here tonight. You wanted some encouragement. Admit it.” His mouth curved into a devilish grin.
“I’ll admit nothing of the sort. I’m here because I don’t have my house key, and I need somewhere to stay. I’m not going back to Maxim’s tonight.” Especially not now that Scott had planted ideas in her head. Outrageous ideas. Impossible ideas.Tantalizingideas.
She’d deal with Maxim in the cold light of day once she’d managed to forget this ridiculous conversation. And the kiss. Or at least once the kiss wasn’t the only thing she could manage to think about. “I was hoping you’d let me take one of the Tumbleweed beds. Just for tonight.”
“Oh.” Scott seemed genuinely surprised. He really thought she’d come here for some weird one-night-stand pep talk.
Did I?
She sighed. Now she no longer knew what she wanted.Thank you, Scott.
But as she settled in for the night, surrounded by red velvet, poetic ghosts, and shelves upon shelves of aching verse, an uncomfortable truth burned in Finley’s bones. Touching Maxim, feeling the warmth of his bare body beneath her fingertips, had made her acutely aware of how lonely she’d been these past few years. How empty.
She squeezed her eyes shut in the darkness and reminded herself that she’d chosen this solitary life. She was in control of what happened to her. No one else was. It was better this way. Safe. Secure.
There was only one problem—safety didn’t seem to be what she wanted anymore.
She wantedhim.
