Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty)

by Lakes, Krista

  Chapter Fifteen

  Philippe took me to his apartment. It was small, like all those in Paris, but cozy. There was only one bedroom, but Philippe told me I was welcome to take his bed, and he would sleep on the couch.

  “Thanks. I appreciate all that you’re doing for me.”

  “No problem, Sophie. Do you need anything else? If you would like I can schedule you for an appointment with a therapist. There are free counselling services offered for students at the university.”

  I shook my head.

  “No, thanks. I don’t know if I want to do that yet.”

  “Ok, that’s fine. Just let me know if you change your mind.”

  “Thanks. I think I might just go to bed. I’m really exhausted.”

  “Yeah, sure, no problem.”

  A few minutes later I was lying in Philippe’s bed, staring at the ceiling. None of this really felt like real life. Everything was happening so fast. I had told Philippe I loved him. He had gone and done something, somehow gotten rid of the photos that Jacques had taken of me. I was so thankful Philippe was in my life. What a change from barely over twenty four hours ago when I yelled at him, furious that he seemed to be jealous of Jacques. Oh, how stupid I had been.

  I don’t know how long it took, but eventually I fell asleep. My slumber was racked with nightmares once more. I was trapped in Jacques’ studio, I couldn’t leave. He was coming near me, his camera clicking. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t. I was frozen in place, I couldn’t move. I recognized the look on his face, it was that same look of lust, I knew what was coming. He came closer and closer, only inches away from me...

  I woke up screaming bloody murder. I looked around, not instantly recognizing where I was, and that only made things worse. Philippe ran into the room, wearing only his boxers. He immediately jumped next to me and wrapped his arms around me.

  “It’s ok, Sophie. You’re safe. He’s not here. You’re safe.”

  I started to cry. Why wouldn’t this torture end? Why couldn’t I forget this had happened?

  “I fucking hate this,” I whispered, my energy sapped. I had no idea what time it was, I didn’t know how long I’d slept for, but I had a feeling it wasn’t long.

  “I know. I know. Time will help you heal, Sophie” Philippe murmured. I could feel the heat of his body pressed against mine. I could feel that spark of electricity between us, that spark that sent me absolutely wild with desire. Without thinking, I looked up at Philippe, leaned in and kissed him.

  The instant our lips touched it was like the electricity I felt whenever we touched grew. It was more like being struck by lightning. My blood began to simmer inside of me. I felt heat unlike anything I had ever felt before. There was a tug in my nether regions, my body desperate for more.

  Philippe kissed me back, with a passion I had never expected or experienced with a man before. His lips were soft but strong, his muscular arms wrapping around me. I hadn’t realized until now just what an amazing body he had. With only the light fabric of his boxers hiding his most intimate areas from me, I could admire the rest of him. His chest and stomach were tight, muscular with so little fat on them I wondered if he ever ate anything. He could have been an athlete, he looked so good.

  I moaned lightly as Philippe slipped his tongue into my mouth for a moment before moving his mouth from mine, down towards my neck.

  “Oh, Philippe,” I muttered. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

  “Me too. Oh fuck, me too. Ever since I first saw you, Sophie, I knew I had to have you,” he murmured back as his soft kisses found my neckline. I threw my head back, closing my eyes to enjoy the sensation of his lips on my skin. Every time they touched me pleasure radiated through me, like a tsunami of pleasure washing over me. I could feel the pleasure building inside of Philippe as well, his hardness pressing against me as he kissed me.

  Philippe’s hands roamed around my body, exploring me. His hands found the hem of my shirt and he began to pull it up, then suddenly pulled away.

  “I’m sorry Sophie, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “What? Why not?” I replied, sitting up. I was confused. Didn’t we both want this?

  “I don’t... I don’t want to take advantage of you. I don’t want you to feel that I’m taking advantage of you, I don’t want you moving too quickly for your comfort level after all you’ve been through. I don’t want to ruin what we might have for the sake of one night of pleasure.”

  “No, I want this. Believe me, Philippe. I want this. I want you.”

  “You might think that now, but I don’t want you to regret it in the morning.”

  “I won’t regret it, Philippe. I know I won’t.”

  “I promise you, Sophie, we’ll do this. But let’s just give it some time, so that neither of us do something that we might later regret.”

  I knew deep down Philippe was right. I wasn’t in a good place emotionally, this wasn’t the right time to do something like this. But still, I couldn’t deny my body’s desires. I couldn’t stop the juices from flowing inside of me. I couldn’t stop the spasms of pleasure, of desire, that ran through my body, my brain urging my hands to grab Philippe once more, rip off his boxers and make him take me right here, right now.

  “Fine. You’re right. I might just try and get some more sleep.”

  “That’s a good idea, I think. You look exhausted.”

  “Can you stay here with me, for a while?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  We settled into the bed together. Philippe wrapped his arm around me, holding me softly against him as I finally drifted off to sleep once more.

  It was the best sleep I’d had since the shoot with Jacques. When I woke up, birds were happily chirping outside and sunlight streamed through the window. I remember thinking that spring was definitely here. Philippe still had his arm around me as he slept lightly. I stayed there, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms for a while. It felt nice, I felt secure with Philippe holding me.

  Eventually I decided to get up. I left the bed slowly so as to not wake Philippe and went into the other room, where a suitcase and laptop bag held all of my worldly possessions on this side of the world. I took my computer out of its bag and turned it on. I still couldn’t get the memories of what Jacques had done to me out of my head. I opened the news to try and get my mind off things. When I saw the first headline pop up on the news website, my jaw dropped open.

  “Famous Photographer Injured in Studio Fire,” complete with a small photo of Jacques superimposed in the corner of another photo, this time the smoldering remains of the building that had been his studio. I clicked on the article, and as my eyes scanned the page, I suddenly realized what Philippe had gone and done last night, and why he came back smelling like smoke.

  “Famous fashion photographer Jacques Laflamme is in hospital today after suffering from severe smoke inhalation at his studio last night, after what appears to be a case of arson. The word “Violeur”, French for “Rapist” was spray painted on the sidewalk near the studio, and it seems all of the photographer’s photography equipment was destroyed prior to the blaze. Police encourage anyone with knowledge of this attack to come forward. They mentioned that Mr. Laflamme is also suffering from other undisclosed injuries unrelated to the fire. He was rescued from the flames by an anonymous young man who then left the scene. Police would like to speak to this young gentleman if possible.”

  I knew instantly that it was Philippe who had done this. He had done this for me. It was no wonder, the photos were definitely gone. Burnt, along with all of Jacques’ photography equipment. Good riddance, as far as I was concerned.

  Just then I saw a form emerge from the bedroom. Philippe smiled at me, and I felt like melting into the cushions. That beautiful, perfect body of his standing in front of me, his hair just a little bit messy, his arms stretching wide, his muscles bulging in all the right places, his abs leading down to the part I most wanted to see, still covered by his boxers sent me absolut
ely wild with desire.

  “How did you sleep?” he asked.

  “Better, thanks. I didn’t wake up screaming, so that’s an improvement.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Hey, I was looking at the news, and, I think I found out what you went and did last night.”

  “Did he survive?”

  I nodded.

  “Yeah, someone dragged him out of the studio, police are looking for that person.”

  “That was me. I was just going to let him burn to death with all his stuff, then changed my mind at the last second.”

  “The article mentioned ‘undisclosed injuries’. Did you do that too?”

  “Philippe nodded. “That was what changed my mind about whether to leave him in there. This way he’ll have to live the rest of his life knowing that he’ll never be able to do what he did to you or Stephanie again.”

  I had a suspicion I knew exactly what Philippe meant. There was no way Jacques would ever hurt another woman again.

  “And the photos are all gone?”

  “Yes. I broke in first and checked his computer before he got there. He didn’t have any storage, cloud storage, I think you call it in English. It was all on his computer only. So I destroyed it all, I made sure that no one will ever see those photos.”

  “Thank you, Philippe. Thank you so much.”

  “It is not a problem. Not a problem at all. The man deserved much worse than he got. I only wish I had been brave enough to do this long ago, perhaps this would never have happened to you. Now, you must be hungry. Did you want to go and get breakfast?”

  Almost on cue, my stomach rumbled. I realized it must have been basically days since I’d eaten.

  “Yeah, I’m actually starving.”

  “Cool, give me a few minutes to look presentable and we’ll get going.”

  I got dressed as well, and half an hour later Philippe and I were sitting in a nice little crêperie, where I ordered a monster crepe with hot fudge, vanilla ice cream and whipped cream. For someone who hadn’t eaten in ages, the meal was heaven. I dug in, and Philippe looked at me, amused.

  “You have some whipped cream on your nose,” he told me when I came up for air. Blushing, I realized what a fool I must have looked and apologized.

  “No, don’t worry, you did say you were starving. Plus, I wouldn’t dare get in between you and your plate right now!” he joked, and I threw a napkin at him.

  As our meal continued we spoke about other things, for which I was thankful. I didn’t want to think about Jacques, and for the first time since the incident, I didn’t.

  “Hey, Sophie, I was thinking after this we could go to the Musée d’Orsay and see the impressionist works there. What do you think?”

  “Don’t you have class today?”

  Philippe shrugged.

  “Yes, but what is a single day of class? Right now, my priority is you. One day of work won’t make or break my ability to become a doctor. Hopefully the art will help get your mind off other things.”

  “Alright then. Are you asking me out on a date?”

  “I certainly am.”

  “Then I accept,” I replied with a smile as I took another bite of my crepe.

  “What if the police come after you?” I asked as we walked along the street after breakfast towards the RER station.

  “I doubt they will. I covered my tracks well. I didn’t take the metro, and I mainly took side streets where there will not be many cameras. Besides, I made sure my face was covered.”

  “But wouldn’t they know, with the spray painted “rapist” you left on the sidewalk, to look for you?”

  “I doubt it. After all, they didn’t even take a report when Stephanie went to them. They would have no way of finding her, and that was years ago now. As far as they are concerned there would be no reason for me to go after him now.”

  “Ok. Well, just so you know, if the police ask me where you were when the attack happened, I will tell them you were with me.”

  Philippe stopped and looked at me.

  “You don’t need to do that, Sophie. Lying to the police is a crime, I do not want you implicated in something I have done.”

  “You did this for me. The least I can do is help cover your tracks. I will tell the police you were with me if they ask, and if they find that I lied, then I will live with the consequences. But you have an alibi from me.”

  Philippe suddenly took me into his arms. I closed my eyes as I breathed in, the light musk of his scent driving me wild as we stood in the middle of the street, Philippe holding me close.

  “I love you, Sophie. I really love you,” he whispered to me as he grabbed me, as though for dear life.

  “I love you too, Philippe,” I whispered.

  We were pretty much at the station and took the stairs underground. Swiping our cards, Philippe and I joined the commuting crowds on the train and made our way to the museum.

  These sorts of outings were the sort of thing I was getting used to doing with Philippe.

  “You know, I can’t really see myself visiting museums without you anymore. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone else about these things,” I told him as we got our tickets and went in.

  “Is this your way of telling me we’re dating now?” Philippe asked me.

  “I don’t know... are we?”

  “That was my way of asking you. Since neither of us know, why don’t we settle in the middle on ‘yes’?”

  I laughed and put my arm inside of Philippe’s as he opened the map of the museum for us to pore over.

  “Yes sounds good. It’s funny, I came to France to avoid a failed relationship, to get over my old boyfriend. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t go near men at all. And then...”

  I trailed off for a minute, and I felt Philippe’s hand land on my own.

  “And then I got a sexy new French boyfriend, all to myself,” I finally replied.

  I had decided that morning that wasn’t going to let what Jacques did to me break me. Philippe had done so much for me, I decided it was time for me to do something for myself as well. As hard as it was going to be, I was going to move on with my life and do my best to be strong.

  “You’re amazing, Sophie. You’re absolutely amazing.”

  “I’m really not, but thank you.”

  We made our way through the museum, which was thankfully, on a weekday morning, not incredibly busy. I had felt a little bit of a panic rise up in my throat when we were in the crowd on the train, but I had forced it back. I couldn’t help but wonder what if Jacques was in that crowd, wanting to get revenge. I told myself he was in the hospital, there was nothing he could do to me now, and I calmed down.

  Passing slowly through the museum with Philippe helped as well. We went past a number of those Classical Greek statues I loved so much before moving onto the paintings. The museum had an incredible collection of French Impressionist art, which quickly became my favourite style of paining. Some of the reliefs were enormous, much bigger than I could fathom.

  “I love how some of the scenes, while different, are still so similar to what we today do. The fashion is different, of course, but look at the scene in the park. There are lovers holding hands, kids playing in the water. It shows that even though over a hundred years have passed since these scenes existed, people are still the same,” I noted to Philippe as we gazed at the Renoir painting of young people at a ball in the outdoors.

  “Yes, no matter how modern we think we are, how differently we perceive those who came before us, in reality we’re not all that different.”

  “So we’re really dating now, aren’t we?”

  “I guess we are.”

  “You know, Philippe, I’m really glad. I knew the instant I saw you there was something about you, and now I know I’m in love with you.”

  “I had the exact same feeling, and I now have the exact same feeling.”

  As Philippe and I wandered through the museum, I couldn’t help but think to mys
elf just how happy I was. Despite everything that had happened to me, and the fact that I often had to force the bad thoughts and the memories out of my head, Philippe just made me so incredibly happy that it surpassed every other emotion I felt.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As winter definitely turned into spring, the love between Philippe and I blossomed along with the spring flowers. The day after our excursion to the Musée d’Orsay, I met up with Noelle and Claire after class and gushed to them about the fact that Philippe and I were dating.

  “He’s so hot, you’re so lucky Sophie!” Noelle gushed when I told them. I was always amazed by the fact that even in a city like Paris, with over twice the population of San Francisco, all of the students at our university seemed to know each other.

  “Is he good in bed?” Claire asked, and I laughed.

  “I don’t know yet, we haven’t gone that far.”

  “Well what are you waiting for? No better time than the present.”

  “We’re waiting, we don’t want to rush things,” I replied. After all, it was the truth. I didn’t tell them about Jacques. I couldn’t. Philippe was the only person I entrusted with that secret.

  I was getting better at dealing with the pain of what Jacques had done to me as well. For the first few weeks I would check the news almost religiously to see if he was released from hospital. I’m not sure why I did. Maybe I just hoped that the longer he was in the hospital, the more he was suffering. I certainly hoped so, anyway.

  Eventually, however, I stopped. The nightmares were becoming less and less frequent as well. I would still wake Philippe in the middle of the night at least once a week, but it was an improvement on the first few nights when I would wake up screaming at least once every night.

  Philippe and I decided we wanted to share the same bed, although we never did anything more than kissing. Philippe was staying true to his promise to give me time, and I began to realize that it was a good idea. As more time passed, the more I realized that despite my desires, it probably had been a good idea to let my pain heal before Philippe and I went all the way.