Parisian Nights (The Nights Series Book 1)

by Louise Bay

  “Hey, you’re interrupting my threesome with Ben and Jerry.”

  “You’re gross,” I said, shoving the tub back at her.

  “So, have you decided to fight for her?” Beth asked.

  “I have. I’m just not sure I’ll win. I’m not quite sure what to do.” My stomach churned at the thought of not seeing Haven again. I was running out of time and I didn’t have a plan.

  “So what did you have to tell me, my penis-less brother?” Beth pulled me back into the moment.

  “I don’t want you to get upset,” I said and then instantly felt like an idiot.

  “Well, problem solved, because if you tell me you don’t want to get me upset then that’s that—I won’t,” Beth said around a mouthful of ice cream.

  “Sarcasm isn’t your thing,” I said as I grinned at her.

  “Oh yes it is. It’s exactly my thing. Come on, get it off your chest.”

  I took a deep breath. “Well, you know Haven’s been dating these guys.”

  “Yes, I kinda gathered from your hideously bad moods and the fact that you’ve told me so like a million times. What about it?”

  “Well, the second guy was someone we both know.”

  Beth paled instantly and put the ice cream on the coffee table.

  “Romano,” I said.

  She looked at me. “Shit.”

  “Fuck. I’m sorry. I never wanted to hear his name again. I just didn’t want to keep it from you.” If I could have scooped out her pain and taken it on myself, I would have. I hated seeing her upset; it reminded me about how bad things had been for her and how I could do nothing about it. Romano and losing the baby had been a tipping point for Beth. She’d spiraled so far down I wondered if she’d ever be my sister again.

  “I think I should call my sponsor,” was all she said.

  I handed her the phone. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I never want to go back to that place again,” she said quietly.

  “I know. You’re stronger now. What can I do?” I asked her.

  “You’re right. I am, and you can’t do anything. You’ve done so much for me already. Thank you for telling me. Does Haven know?”

  “No, she knows we have a history and that I hate him. I’ve begged her to stay away from him, but I haven’t told her any details. She’s having her follow-up date with him.”

  Her eyes widened. “She is? You can’t convince her not to?”

  “I’ve tried. The other two guys can’t do Saturday apparently and she’s on some deadline for Robert. He’s told her to bring a passport.” I pushed my hands through my hair.

  “Wow.”

  “She’s agreed that if I can’t go with her—I bet the sleazeball will try and pull some stunt to get her away from me—that she won’t go.”

  “Okay, well that’s good. He’s not going to physically hurt her. And if Saturday’s the last time they see each other, then that will be the end of it,” Beth said. She seemed very composed.

  “If it were up to me, he wouldn’t be breathing.”

  Beth rested her palm over my clenched fist. “He didn’t turn me into an alcoholic, Jake. It wasn’t all him.”

  “I know but . . . but I want to kill him,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, you in prison is the last thing I need, so calm down. And I need to know you’re not going to lose it on Saturday.” Beth looked at me, waiting for my reply.

  I nodded. “I promise you.”

  “I’m going to call my sponsor,” she said as she got up.

  “I love you, Beth.”

  “I know, and I couldn’t love you more. I’m okay. Honestly. It’s a preventative measure.”

  Haven had agreed that I could meet her at her place as Romano was picking her up at nine in the morning and he hadn’t told her where he was taking her.

  “A stretch limo? Really?” I said as we stood at the top of the steps to her building, under the awning, avoiding the rain as the car pulled up.

  Haven laughed. “It’s ridiculous. It’s like we’re going on a hen party.”

  “A hen party?” I asked.

  “Translation alert: a bachelorette party,” she explained.

  I nodded. She was right; it was tacky. “That would be far more preferable.”

  “For you, I’m sure. Loads of drunk women who aren’t wearing much,” she teased and poked me in the ribs. A jolt of energy ran through me.

  I smiled at her and she smiled back. I wanted to reach out for her. “I’m not going anywhere without you,” she said.

  Her reassurance relaxed me and I followed her down the steps to the car. She’d worn her hair up today. It placated me slightly and made me think that she was keeping a part of herself back. A part of her that I’d seen.

  Romano stepped out of the car to greet us. “Haven, my princess. You look so beautiful.” He kissed the back of her hand. I could do nothing but stand there and watch.

  “Mr. Harrison, or should I call you our third wheel?” He laughed heartily at his own joke. Haven smiled tightly and I glared at him in between capturing photographs of our ridiculous transportation.

  We got into the car and Romano made sure he was sitting next to Haven on the back seat while I was to her side. He arranged himself far too close to her.

  “Are you ready for the time of your life, Haven? I’ve got something very special planned for you.”

  “Are you going to tell me what it is?” Haven asked.

  “I’m taking you to Paris,” Romano replied.

  My heart stopped dead. Paris? Paris was our city. Going back there might just kill me. It had been the place I’d cracked through Haven’s hard shell, the place where she’d given herself to me. I glanced over at her but she looked away as soon as our eyes met.

  “I don’t think I can,” Haven said. “I have to be back. I’ve got house guests, I—”

  “Nonsense, we’ll be back this evening. Unless of course, by the end of the day, you’d like to stay over. I can arrange that too,” Romano said.

  My fists were clenched by my sides.

  “Louis—”

  “Shhhh.” He placed a hand on Haven’s knee, silencing her.

  “You have a ticket for Jake, right?” she asked.

  “Mr. Harrison can come too if you’d like, or perhaps it would be better just the two of us. More intimate.”

  Haven looked at me as she chewed the inside of her cheek, clearly uncomfortable. Her hands swept her hair back and then twisted in her lap. I wanted to reach across and pull her to me, assuring her that everything would be okay but I resisted, just. If she said the word, we’d be out of there. I willed her to give me the slightest indication that she wanted to leave. I knew this article being ready on time was important to her, but was it worth spending time with him?

  She turned to Romano. “Wherever I go, Jake goes,” she said firmly. Relief swept through me. I wasn’t sure if it was because of what she said or if it was because we felt like a team; we were on the same side and she was going to let me look after her.

  Louis sat back in his seat and shrugged. “Okay. For now.”

  Nausea rumbled in my stomach. I’d imagined going back to Paris with Haven, but never under circumstances like these.

  Romano had the bladder of a camel. He didn’t leave Haven and me alone once on our journey. I wanted to check how she was feeling. She continued to look nervous, although she hid it well with an affected smile.

  Conveniently, I was booked into a train car behind theirs, but I managed to negotiate a seat change, so I was two rows up and across from them.

  As we pulled in to Gard du Nord, I glanced across the aisle at Haven. I wanted to be the one that brought her back here. As if she could tell I was watching, she turned to me. I saw something in her eyes I hadn’t before. It wasn’t about Romano. It was sadness, regret, longing. My breath hitched. Did she want me? Each memory of our time here played through my head in slow motion—her head on my shoulder, the last time we pulled into Gard du Nord,
her flushed face when we stood in front of Rodin’s The Kiss, the feel of her at Buddha Bar. Was she thinking what I was?

  “Have you ever been to Paris, princess?” Romano asked her, breaking our connection.

  Haven flickered her eyes to me. “Yes.”

  “Of course you have. But today you get to see it through my eyes.”

  Haven was silent.

  There was a car waiting for us outside the station. My muscles were jumping, my body on full alert. I wasn’t sure if that was because Romano was here or because Haven was. I could have run to Paris with all the energy I had.

  Haven

  Jake’s reaction to Louis was starting to have an effect on me and I couldn’t wait for the day to be over. Jake was normally so laid back about things. Nothing seemed to faze him, but now I couldn’t ignore the tension radiating off him. It was as if he were about to explode at any moment. I hated seeing him like that. It upset me that my actions might be causing him pain, again. A huge part of me wished I hadn’t agreed to this second date. I should have found a way round it.

  We made our way out of Gard du Nord to a car waiting for us. If Jake had his way, he would have piled in the back, but Louis was quite insistent that he sit in the front.

  Being in Paris was confusing. When Jake and I had been, I’d had a wonderful time. It’d felt like the beginning of something. Now it was a gigantic reminder of what never was. Of how stupid I’d been.

  The weather matched my mood. It was gray and cloudy, as if Paris wasn’t quite in focus, wasn’t quite as beautiful and vibrant as when I’d been here last.

  “You’re quiet, my princess,” Louis said. I simply smiled at him.

  I’d never been called someone’s princess before and I didn’t like it. It made me sound as if I were untouchable and removed from life. Jake had never seen me like that. He had seen through to my core as soon as we’d met—and I’d just let him go.

  “We need some color in those cheeks,” he went on. “That calls for fresh air.”

  It was starting to drizzle, so an outdoor activity didn’t sound particularly enticing, but I didn’t say anything.

  “Here we are,” said Louis as the car pulled up to the curb.

  I got out of the car and realized we were at the Eiffel Tower. Of course we were.

  “I thought it would make a nice shot if we walked hand in hand toward the tower. Jake could shoot us from the back,” Louis said as if he were directing Jake.

  Jake didn’t say a word. I was concerned that the slightest thing would tip him over the edge, so I tried to defuse the situation.

  “Let’s head toward the tower; Jake won’t be too far behind.”

  Jake nodded and I started toward the tower.

  Louis was soon beside me and grabbed my hand. His palm was clammy. I suppressed a shudder. How long would it be until we were on the train back?

  “Paris is romantic, no?” Louis asked me.

  I glanced back at Jake. “Sure.”

  “Not as romantic as Rome, I think. Next time, we’ll go there.”

  I smiled and he squeezed my hand.

  “So, we’ll go to the top now,” he said in his exaggerated Italian accent. “And we will see the beautiful views of the city.”

  The cloudy sky would probably get in the way of the panorama. It was impossible to see Paris properly in this weather. But at least we were going to be in public.

  “So, what do you like to do in your spare time, Louis?” I asked as we made our way to the top.

  “I like spending my time with beautiful women of course, like you,” he replied, smiling at me, trying to look into my eyes as he spoke. I did everything to avoid his stare.

  I thought it was meant to be a compliment, but it sounded wrong. It was fake and forced and I wondered who fell for men like this?

  Jake was quiet, resigned, and I fought an urge to take his hand, to feel his soft, smooth, warm skin against mine.

  “Of course, my company keeps me very busy. I’m always flying from country to country, trying to ensure people are doing things the Louis way. I have very few people I trust in business.” He scowled for a second and then remembered to be charming. “And here we are. We need champagne,” he announced.

  We wandered around the top of the tower. It was cold and windy and as I had imagined, there wasn’t much to see because of the clouds. Louis seemed oblivious. He ordered two glasses of champagne.

  “Mr. Harrison, why don’t you get some pictures of us facing the beautiful views?” he said. He seemed to like the fact he was being followed around and photographed. Was that because it was Jake? Or was it because he liked the attention?

  The only thing I could think about was how long we’d be up here and whether or not we’d head straight back to London afterward.

  “Have you ever been married?” I asked. Jake snapped away behind us, getting closer and closer. My skin warmed when he was near and I fought the urge to reach for him.

  “No, I haven’t been lucky enough.” He bowed and kissed the back of my hand again.

  “Children?” I asked.

  He smiled wistfully at me. “Regrettably, no. It is something I’ve always wanted. To be a father, that is.”

  “You’re a total prick,” Jake said from behind us. I froze. Whatever had happened between him and Romano seemed so personal. I could feel Jake’s pain through his anger. I wanted to reach for him, to reassure him that Louis wasn’t going to hurt him.

  Louis’ smile disappeared and he glared at Jake for a few seconds, as if contemplating how to respond.

  Louis looked down and when his eyes met mine, it was with his smile back in place. “I get the impression Mr. Harrison is not my biggest fan.” He raised an eyebrow and I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible.

  “I want to take you to my favorite place in Paris,” he said abruptly.

  Memories of the Rodin Museum flooded my head and I glanced at Jake. He wasn’t looking at me. He was fixated on his camera, and wore a frustrated expression.

  “Okay, let’s go,” I said. I was ready to get out of there.

  I recognized Place de la Concorde and various images started pulling together in my head. I leaned forward in my seat, removing my hand from Louis’, and tapped Jake on the shoulder. “Are we near Buddha Bar?” I asked him.

  “It’s right around the block,” he replied.

  “Oh.” That evening all came flooding back, sluicing through my brain. I’d wanted him so badly. And the way he had looked at me as we’d entered Buddha Bar, as though he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back for much longer—I’d never felt so desired. The way he’d told me he would have me. How he’d tied me up and made me come and turned my most hidden vulnerabilities into pleasures. Jake was all around my body and mind. I couldn’t breathe.

  The last place I wanted to be was in the back of a car with a man who wasn’t Jake. I wanted to go home. I wanted to go home with Jake.

  “This is a beautiful hotel, my princess. It’s my favorite place in Paris. Hôtel de Crillon.”

  “We’re going to a hotel?” I asked.

  “Yes, for lunch, and of course, longer if you wish.”

  My stomach churned. I hoped he didn’t think he was going to be holding anything but my hand.

  As we walked into the lobby, Jake trailing behind, I tried to push images of Jake and me in Paris back into the corners of my memories where they’d been hiding. The hotel was beautiful, somewhere you could imagine Louis XV hanging out, but I wondered why of all places, this was Louis’ favorite. Memories of Rodin’s The Gates of Hell crashed over me. I smiled to myself.

  “I knew you’d like it here, princess,” Louis said as we sat at a table for lunch, mistaking my smile. I could see Jake in the lobby, looking agitated. Today was the last time we’d have any reason to spend time together. My heart sped up and I started to think of more excuses to see him again. Maybe the wrap party for the Sandy Fox film? She said we’d get an invitation.

  Louis follow
ed my line of vision. “Excuse me. I’ll be back in a second,” he said as he got up to leave the table.

  He went to Jake. They hadn’t said much to each other all day. I wondered what it was all about. Jake started to gesticulate with his hands. I couldn’t make out what was being said, but the volume of their conversation increased and I stood, wondering whether or not I should go over and interrupt. Louis leaned forward as if to whisper something into Jake’s ear. Whatever it was it didn’t go over well. Jake punched him square on the jaw and Louis landed on the floor.

  What the hell?

  I raced over. When Jake saw me coming, he lunged toward me, took my arm and dragged me toward the exit.

  “Jake, what’s going on? Are you okay? What happened?”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Jake said. “Please don’t fight me on this, Haven.” His gaze was flitting around the lobby.

  “I’m not fighting you, Jake. I told you that I trust you,” I said, and he looked at me, as if he were trying to confirm what I was saying.

  He exhaled and grabbed my hand in his. I had to half skip to keep up with him. We crashed out of the hotel and into the Parisian rain. Jake looked left and right, then pointed toward a rank of cabs. We ran toward them just as the last one sped off.

  Shit.

  “Will he call the police?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. The rain came heavier and Jake’s hair darkened as it clung to his face. The wet had felt dark and foreboding with Romano, but with Jake it became intimate, romantic.

  “We’re getting soaked,” Jake said.

  “I don’t mind,” I replied.

  “You’re going to get cold and you don’t have your nine hundred scarves and twelve coats to keep you warm.” Jake smiled, then scanned the road. “Let’s head up here and try to get a cab.”

  Finally, we came across another rank with a taxi waiting. I was wet to the bone, and so was Jake. When we climbed in, Jake met my eyes. Where to? “We need to dry off,” I said. I wasn’t ready to leave Paris now that it was just us. Jake nodded and I could see his mind start to whirl. Before he said anything, I leaned forward. “The W, Opéra,” I said.