Page 57 of How to Resist Prince Charming

The building was long, stretching further than a normal American city block. It was five stories high with a huge clock above the entrance, looming a good story tall by itself. The arched entry under it had to rise at least two and half stories. As Braxton started toward the arch, Lenna swallowed and hurried into step behind him.

An attendant opened the door for them, and Lenna smiled, murmuring, “Merci,” as she passed.

Oh, wow. She’d just spoken French. She was going to get to use her French!

Hurrying her pace, Lenna moved closer to Braxton’s side and tightened her grip on his hand. He glanced at her and winked.

“This is, like, a five star hotel, isn’t it?” she had to ask.

“No, of course not.” Braxton eyes glittered with a devilish gleam. “It’s only four.”

Trying to imitate his air of unconcern, Lenna tossed her hair over her shoulder, though inside, she had to swallow back a squeal of excitement.

“Only four, hmm. Well, goodness, Braxton. What’s wrong with you? Couldn’t you get reservations at a five star?”

With a grin, Braxton shook his head and muttered, “Smart ass.”

They walked to the concierge desk and Braxton sent the man waiting there a polite nod. “Hello. Do you speak English?”

The concierge answered, “But of course, Monsieur.”

“Good. I have reservations for Farris. Braxton Farris.”

“One moment.” The gentleman turned his attention to a computer screen next to him.

Lenna nudged Braxton in the elbow. “Don’t you speak French?”

Out of the side of his mouth, he murmured, “Not a word.” After a pause, he added, “Thank God you decided to tag along, huh? I might’ve gotten lost this weekend.”

Gasping, Lenna watched him smile at the concierge as the man returned.

“Here is your room key, Monsieur Farris. I’ll see that your luggage is brought up.”

“Thank you,” Braxton said, taking their key card. “May I have a wakeup call at eight?”

“Certainly, Monsieur.”

* * * *

Braxton and Lenna stayed in the hotel on their first night in Paris. They had too much fun exploring their fancy suite to go out just yet. Plus it was late, ten o’clock their time and four a.m. Paris time.

When they finally tucked themselves into the single, king-sized bed, it was nearly five in the morning. Lenna didn’t even stir when Braxton’s wakeup call rang three hours later.

Utterly exhausted, he dragged himself out of bed and took a long, hot shower. As he dressed in a suit and tie, he watched Lenna sleep. She looked so peaceful and content, a soft smile spread across his face. He couldn’t regret being awake when simply seeing her lie there like an innocent angel was a reward in itself. The problem he encountered was leaving her.

Digging the gift he’d brought with him out of his suitcase, he set it on his pillow. He jotted down a note and put it on top of the wrapped box. After smiling one more time at her sweet, innocent slumber, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead. When she continued to lie there like the dead, he grinned and impulsively touched her cheek.

“Goodbye.” He brushed a piece of hair off her temple. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

Needing to make his first meeting at nine, he finally left.

* * * *

Noon came before Lenna stirred. She groaned, sore and travel weary. When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring at a sculpted and ornamented ceiling. She blinked a few times before she recalled the past evening’s events.

She was in Paris!

“Braxton,” she called, sitting up and looking around the room. When he didn’t answer, a small frown puckered her face. “Brax?”

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