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

by Lakes, Krista

  We lay there, both of us completely out of breath, enjoying the moment for a while in silence. I felt so good, so loved, so warm. I was so relaxed, I felt like if I got any more so I would melt right here on the bed and ooze slowly down onto the floor in a warm puddle of pleasure.

  “God damn. Why did we wait so long to do that?” I finally asked Philippe, turning to face him and breaking the silence.

  “I don’t know, but let’s make up for lost time,” he replied, getting up off the bed and leading me towards the bathroom, where we had the sexiest shower I had ever experienced.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After that first night with Philippe, we just couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We had three months. Three months of pure, perfect bliss before I had to go back to America and we’d find ourselves separated by an ocean. A literal ocean.

  The closer we got to the day when I had to leave, the more real it felt. When I finally booked my plane ticket back home, wanting to book a few months early to save money, I cried as I stared at the email confirmation and Philippe held me close.

  “It won’t be forever. We’ll be together again someday, I promise you Sophie.”

  Still, it felt like I was drowning. Fitting, seeing the Atlantic was keeping us apart. When I thought about leaving Philippe, going back to America without him, I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. I often found tears springing to my eyes if I thought about it for too long.

  I loved Philippe so much, the thought of leaving him hurt, physically. It felt like my heart was broken already. I wanted so badly to stay with him forever, I wanted to be able to stay here in France. There was no way I could love someone more than I loved Philippe. And yet, there was also no way we could be together.

  “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe I left America to forget a heartbreak, and return to America with another. I love you so much, every day I’m going to spend away from you will be the worst day of my life.”

  “Now, we can’t have any of these negative thoughts. I know how you feel Sophie. I feel it too. But we have to be happy, we have to make the most of the time we have together,” he continued, his fingers moving towards the buttons of my shirt.

  I couldn’t help but move in and kiss him, and as we moved into the bedroom, I knew he was right. I knew I had to make the most of what we had, and as he slid in and out of me, my despair was replaced with the pleasure I had gotten so used to, the pleasure that overtook me completely and made me feel like nothing else on Earth ever could. Only Philippe could make me feel that way.

  Finally, a week before my flight, Philippe told me he wanted to give me the most amazing day ever.

  “Every day with you is the most amazing day ever,” I replied, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning up for a kiss, a kiss which set my blood on fire.

  “You’re absolutely too sweet. But just letting you know, get some sleep tonight, because your tomorrow is going to be amazing.”

  I felt like a kid on Christmas that night. I had trouble falling asleep, I wondered what Philippe could possibly have planned for me the next day.

  When I finally woke up, I found out the answer. To start with, I got breakfast in bed. A true French breakfast: toast with jam made by Philippe’s mother, which she sent him every year, a croissant and some freshly squeezed orange juice along with a shot of espresso. I drank the coffee gratefully. I hadn’t slept too badly, but if the rest of the day was going to be this amazing, I was going to need it.

  “Hello my sweet,” Philippe greeted me as he brought in the tray, a single red rose in a slim vase on the corner finishing it off.

  “Oh my God, Philippe! This is amazing!” I exclaimed, surprised and thrilled. He sat with me while I ate, assuring me that he had already had his breakfast, and told me just how much he loved me.

  “I need you in my life, Sophie. You’re absolutely incredible. I have never met a woman like you before in my life, and I know I never will. You’re unique. You’re a snowflake, one of a kind, and I’m just so lucky that you landed on my tongue.”

  “Of all the palaces in all the world...” I continued, and Philippe looked at me, confused. “Oh, sorry, that’s a reference to a movie in English, it just kind of means ‘what are the odds that of all the places in the world, we actually managed to meet’.” I often forgot that Philippe, being French, didn’t understand a lot of the pop culture references that I made in English.

  “Oh. Yes, exactly. Exactly like that. I love you so much Sophie,” he added softly as I finished my breakfast.

  “I love you too. Now I’m going to have a shower before we get the day started, did you want to join me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Twenty minutes later I was experiencing the next part of the day. Philippe had taken me to the chocolate shop of Jean Paul Hévin, one of France’s most famous chocolatiers.

  We were greeted when we entered by an elegant lady dressed in black.

  “Bonjour Monsieur Vaillancourt, nous avons vos chocolats de prêts, et une table pour vous au 1er étage.”

  My French was now good enough that I understood, Philippe had already ordered chocolates, which they had ready for us, along with a table upstairs.

  We made our way into the little seating area above, where we were promptly brought pastries so delicious I couldn’t believe it. It was like every bite melted in my mouth, my taste buds overwhelmed with flavour.

  “Wow. This is so amazing, Philippe. I had no idea food could taste this good.”

  “Yeah, when I was a kid my mom would take me here every time we made a trip into Paris. Everything this place makes is so ridiculously good, I wanted to treat you to an experience here.”

  “I could spend the rest of my life in this shop and die happy. Of course, I’d be dead at 30 of diabetes or something, but oh, what a death.”

  Philippe laughed. “I hope to hang on to you for longer than ten years. You had better not die at thirty!”

  “Deal!”

  When we finished our pastries, the lady brought us up the bag of chocolates that Philippe had ordered.

  I gazed in awe at the collection before me as Philippe handed me the bag.

  “Are these all for me?” I asked, awestruck. There were boxes of artisan chocolates, bags of chocolate covered almonds, petit fours, jams, and anything else I could think of.

  “They are. I thought I’d try and buy you some things that come as close as possible to matching your own sweetness.”

  “Awwww. This is amazing! I can’t wait to try these later.”

  “There will be plenty of time for that after dinner. For now, we’re going to spend the day at the Louvre once more, one last day there to discover the museum.”

  As we passed through security and got our tickets, Philippe and I went once again straight to the Greek statues. They were still my favourite part of the museum, and I never tired of looking at their beauty, at the pure skill it must have taken to carve such life-like portraits of the gods and goddesses.

  “What I find interesting is how accurately they portrayed the looks of people at the time. I mean, look at this bust of Socrates,” I told Philippe. “It looks like a real person, even though he lived thousands of years ago. And yet, if you look back only a few hundred years ago, the portraits were not very realistic. Look at say, portraits of Queen Elizabeth the first of England. They are not very realistic portraits. We can get an impression of what her face looked like, but compared to later portraits, such as those of Marie Antoinette, they really aren’t that realistic. They don’t look like faces. But thanks to these statues, we can know almost exactly what Socrates looked like, even though he lived thousands of years earlier.”

  “Yes, you’re right, of course. I never really thought of it that way, but you’re right. Statues are how we know how many of the earliest people looked. We know what Julius Caesar, Mark Antony and Nero looked like thanks to their busts as well.”

  “Of course, we have to trust that the artists didn’t succumb to th
e model’s vanity, but in a lot of cases, especially those you mentioned of Rome, there are so many busts done of many of those people that we get an idea of the truth by looking at what is similar between them.”

  “Yes. I suppose that’s true with all things, isn’t it?”

  I smiled at Philippe and took his arm as we walked through the room. I loved being in here with him. I loved spending time in museums, having discussions about things like what the ancients looked like with my boyfriend. He was amazing, absolutely amazing.

  We went through another large part of the museum before Philippe noted that we would be late for our dinner reservation if we didn’t leave soon.

  “Where are we going for dinner?”

  “You’ll see.”

  I never expected Philippe to take me to the Eiffel Tower! We went straight up to the restaurant on the first floor. I gasped as the waiter led Philippe to our table, right on the edge, giving us the most amazing view over Paris.

  “This place must have cost a fortune, Philippe! This is incredible! Thank you!” I exclaimed, completely overwhelmed with emotion. This entire day had been perfect. Philippe treated me like a princess. I couldn’t believe I was going to have to leave him soon.

  “And trust me, Sophie, all this will seem like nothing soon. The best is yet to come.”

  I wondered what he had in mind as the waiter brought us caramel milkshakes to start with. I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw them.

  “A place like this, surely they weren’t on the menu,” I said, curious as to how Philippe had managed this.

  “I may have organized a custom drink for my sweetheart ahead of time,” he replied with a grin, and I knew that I couldn’t possibly love Philippe more than I did that that moment. He was so thoughtful, I loved our little milkshakes-instead-of-wine habit. For him to pull it off here, at a restaurant so much classier than any I had been to before, made me swell with emotion.

  “God, you’re amazing, you know that?”

  “You’ve told me so many times now I’m starting to maybe believe it!”

  “Good. Because it’s true.”

  As the waiter brought us course after course of amazing, chef prepared food, Philippe and I spoke about other things, before the inevitable topic of me leaving came up.

  “I can’t believe it’s so close. I want to be so happy, I want to really savour and enjoy these last few days with you, but it’s so hard when I know that only eight days from now, we’ll be separated by thousands of miles,” I told him, pouring my heart out. Philippe only smiled.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “Remember how I told you all this was going to seem like nothing compared to what was coming? Well, I have big news. I’m coming with you to America.”

  “What?” The words hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t believe it. Was this Philippe’s idea of a joke? If so, it wasn’t a funny one.

  His smile grew wider. “I didn’t want to tell you before, I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but I sent off some applications to medical schools in America a few months ago. I was hoping because of my good marks and experience volunteering that I would have a chance, and four days ago I got the letter from the University of California San Francisco. I’ve been approved! I still have to complete the last two years of medical school, then do the internship and residency, and I’ll officially be a neurologist.”

  It was like my brain didn’t comprehend the words Philippe was saying to me. Was he really telling me that he was coming with me? We were going back to America together? We weren’t going to be separated?

  “Are you serious?” I asked. “Oh my God!” I continued as the reality began to set in. This was really happening. Philippe and I weren’t going to be separated after all.

  “Are you ok, Sophie? You look pale,” Philippe asked, concerned.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m actually... wow. I’m just stunned. Completely stunned. This is such amazing news, I don’t think my body has actually digested that it’s actually happening yet. Tears began to sting my eyes, and I started laughing.

  “I’m sorry, you must think I’m a crazy person, I’m just so overwhelmed. I’m so happy. I’m so, so happy. I can’t believe you’re doing this for me,” I continued. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around Philippe, pull him to me and hold him tight forever. Philippe had actually gone through and been approved for medical school in America. He was going to move halfway around the world. For me. To be with me.

  Philippe had been completely right. This overshadowed the entire rest of this amazing day. Completely overshadowed it. I had spent months thinking about the flight home, about what our relationship would be like once I was back in America. I had cried countless tears over it. And now, now I didn’t have to worry. I was never going to be apart from Philippe again. We were well and truly going to be together forever.

  I couldn’t even speak for a while. I could only laugh. Laugh and smile. I was so happy, so excited, I didn’t even know what to do.

  “I take it you are happy, then?” Philippe asked. As I nodded, more tears fell from my eyes.

  “Oh yes. Oh God, Philippe. I’m so happy. I can’t even express it.”

  “I can see very well how happy you are. It’s adorable, absolutely adorable.”

  I babbled like an idiot for a while, not being able to do anything. I felt like I was on cloud nine, and I was never coming down. The smile stick to my face so hard it began to hurt, my muscles tiring from the effort.

  Eventually I settled down, right around as desert was brought out.

  “So this is really happening. This isn’t a dream. You’re actually going to come with me to America.”

  “Yes. It really is happening.”

  “You were absolutely right. This is the most amazing thing I could have imagined.”

  We decided to walk back to Philippe’s apartment, enjoying the warm evening air, while I told Philippe everything I could about San Francisco. I told him about my apartment, that Clara, Alice and Peter would be thrilled to have him join us, or that we could find our own place. I told him about the people, the sights, the streets (I hope you like hills!) and everything else.

  “I love you, Sophie. I want to live my life with you. This is going to be an incredible adventure.”

  “Yes, Philippe. It absolutely will be. I love you too, and I will spend the rest of my life with you too.”

  Epilogue

  A week later our plane touched down in San Francisco. Clara was ready and waiting for the two of us, complete with a sign made of glitter announcing “WELCOME BACK LOVERS”.

  I rolled my eyes and laughed when I saw it, hugging her warmly. I had forgotten just how much I missed Clara. Noelle and Claire had made me promise to stay in touch, and I definitely planned on doing so, but Clara was still my best friend.

  “Bahn-jooah” she said to Philippe in an extraordinarily bad French accent, and he leaned down and kissed her hand. Clara flushed, her hand rising to her face.

  “Oh my God, Sophie. Philippe is such a gentleman. I’m just warning you now, I might try and steal him from you.”

  “I regret to inform you, mademoiselle, that you will not be able to,” Philippe replied, wrapping a protective arm around my waist that felt so right as his touch sent tingles through me. “Sophie has captured my heart the way no other woman possibly could,” he continued, and Clara pretended to swoon.

  “Sophie, he’s perfect. I’m so jealous of you. I can’t believe you left here to forget about men and came back with the perfect guy, with a sexy French accent to boot.”

  I laughed, but I could tell my eyes weren’t laughing along with me. If only Clara knew what I had gone through with men in France. I still had nightmares from time to time. I still got nervous whenever people touched me without warning. I knew I was never going to be able to forget what Jacques did to me. That memory would be with me forever.

  But I wasn’t going to let it dictate my life. I was with Philippe now, and I was so happy. I was
happier than I had ever been in my life. Everything was perfect. As we loaded up all our things into Clara’s old beater of a car and she drove us back to our apartment, I told her all about the trip, leaving out, of course, the parts about Jacques. Maybe I would tell her one day, but for now that secret was between Philippe and I.

  As I fell asleep that night, Philippe’s arm wrapped over me and on my breast, I thought about my semester abroad. It had been so unlike anything else I had ever done. I felt more pain than I could have thought possible, but also discovered new realms of pleasure. And now, now I was with a man that I considered my soul mate, a man I knew I would be with for the rest of my life.

  That brochure had been right. My semester abroad had been the adventure of a lifetime.

  The End

  About the Author: Lila Lacroix

  Lila Lacroix is a young writer who loves to write steamy new adult romance novels. As an English major also who waits tables to minimize the damage to her finances by student loans, Lila loves to relax by dreaming up love stories by young people learning to find themselves.

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