Playboy Prince, Single Dad (Love Is Priceless Book 4)

by Holly Rayner

  “Tell me.”

  “I’ve been hurt before,” I say. “It’s not just your past that makes it hard for me to trust you, Tomas. It’s hard for me to trust anyone. I’ve been used. I’ve put my heart on the line and had it broken.”

  “And you’re afraid that if you let me in, I’ll do the same thing.”

  I nod, unable to meet his eyes.

  “I won’t hurt you, Emma,” he says. “But I understand that’s hard to put faith in. You can take your time. We have as long as you want. We can just be friends. We can get to know each other slowly. We can go out on dates—oh, let me take you on a date, please.”

  I laugh a little. “Isn’t this a date?”

  He leans in and kisses my cheek softly. “No,” he says. “This is something else.”

  “What would a date be?”

  “A date wouldn’t be trying to win you over,” he says. “A date would be an opportunity. Not to get you to go to bed with me, but to learn about you. To hear more about your life. To know what moves you, what you care about, what you love. I want to know all of those things, Emma. More than anything in the world. And I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care if we never sleep together.”

  I have to laugh at that. “Yes, you do.”

  “Okay,” he agrees, chuckling. “I do. But I’m willing to wait as long as it takes. Because I want you to want it as badly as I do, and I want you to feel as good about it as I know I will. And in the meantime, I want every other part of you, too. I want your smile. I want your ideas. I want to see the way you see the world.” His hands move to cradle my cheeks. “I love you, Emma.”

  And finally, our eyes meet.

  “I love you too,” I whisper. It feels as natural as breathing.

  He draws me into his arms, and I rest against him. It’s such a relief, finally, to give in to what I’ve been wanting all this time that I almost cry. His hand strokes my hair slowly, and he plants soft kisses along my forehead, and then he lifts my chin with two fingers and our lips meet.

  I sink into him. I forget the Château de Villandry. I forget all my doubts and fears. In this moment, there’s only me and Tomas, lips and hands, the Paris wind kissing our skin and the sure and steady beat of our hearts against one another.

  I lose track of time in Tomas’s arms. The next time I look up, the sun is sinking low in the sky. Beautiful hues of pink and red and gold decorate the marble fountain, glinting in the water, shining on Tomas’s face.

  “Is this really happening?” I ask him, hardly able to believe it.

  “I hope so,” he answers. “It’s all I’ve wanted for so long.”

  I kiss him again—and lose myself all over again.

  This time Tomas breaks the kiss, after several minutes and with a rueful laugh. “We should get going,” he says. “We want to get back to the plane before it gets too late.”

  Back to the plane.

  “Where will we go from here?” I ask him.

  He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’d like you to come back to Luxembourg,” he says. “Back home. I’d like you to stay at my house with me, and with Lara. You could move out of your hotel. You don’t have to move into my suite,” he says quickly. “You could have your own set of rooms. Privacy, and your own space while we get to know each other.”

  “I’d like that,” I admit. I can’t believe I almost went back to New York, almost said goodbye to this man forever. Thank God he brought me here. Thank God he found the right words to make me understand.

  Because I do trust him now. Only yesterday, if he’d asked me to move into his house, I would have been appalled and offended. But now I see his request for what it is. He wants me near. He wants to see me every day.

  I want the same thing.

  We stand, still hand in hand, and now his arm slips around my waist. I lean into his shoulder, feeling more loved and cared for than I ever have in my life. The chemistry and the passion that’s been between us since the day we met is still there, still sparking like a tiny flame every time we touch. But there’s something much deeper now, something warm instead of hot. Something safe.

  I look up at him. “Do you think we can find our way out of this place?” I ask him.

  He smiles. “I’ll follow your lead,” he says, and I know he’s not just talking about the maze.

  Chapter 19

  Emma

  Back on the plane, Tomas opens a bottle of champagne and removes two frosted glasses from a small refrigerator. “Drink with me?” he asks, holding them up.

  I nod. A week ago I would have said no to this. I wouldn’t have trusted myself to control my impulses around him. But now I don’t think I want to stay under control. Now I want to give myself over to all the things I’m feeling, to everything that’s happened between us today.

  Tomas unstoppers the champagne and pours, then hands me one of the glasses. “A toast to—”

  “To you,” I interrupt him.

  He raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised.

  “You amazed me today,” I say. “I never imagined you’d remember the things I said to you the day we met. We haven’t talked about Paris since then. And with everything that came after—your feelings of rejection, the long period where we didn’t talk at all, and then the surprise of coming face to face again when I became Lara’s tutor—well, all of those things pushed the memory of Paris completely out of my mind. I couldn’t have told you what I talked about that day for anything.”

  “What do you remember of that day?” he asks, coming over to sit beside me.

  I cast my mind back. There’s one thing that stands out for me above all else.

  “Your eyes,” I say.

  He smiles. It seems to light him up from within. “My eyes? Really?”

  “You were the best-looking man I’d ever seen,” I say. “But they were what pushed it over the top for me. The way the light caught them, the way they seemed to communicate exactly what you were thinking…”

  He leans in and kisses me, momentarily preventing me from speaking.

  “But you must hear that all the time,” I say eventually when he pulls back. “I’m sure I’m not the first woman to say it.”

  “You are, actually,” he says.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Women compliment me on other things,” he says. “My hair, occasionally, or my clothes. More often things like my cars or the gifts I give them.”

  “I mean, you do give pretty good gifts,” I say, leaning into him. “Taking me all the way to Paris to see the Château de Villandry! I still can’t believe we just did that.”

  “Well, I’ve never done anything like that with another woman,” he says. “They’ve received things like purses and expensive jackets.”

  A little smile comes over my face at that, though I don’t say anything to Tomas. Purses and jackets. I can’t believe I ever felt jealous about the other women he’d been with. It’s so obvious now that they never meant anything to him. I don’t know how I could have doubted that what we have is completely different.

  This time, the flight seems far too short. I’m not looking forward to separating from Tomas and going back to my hotel, even if it is just to pack up my things for the move into his house.

  But Tomas surprises me again.

  “I’ll send some people over to your hotel room to get your things,” he says as we cross the tarmac to Karl’s car. “Come back to the house with me. I want you to have the chance to settle into your new suite.”

  “What suite is this?” I ask. “I’ve been spending time in your house for weeks now. I didn’t see any extra suite of rooms lying around.”

  “You’ve only been in half my house,” he says. “The back half has my rooms, Lara’s rooms, and an extra set.”

  And just like that, it was settled.

  Karl glances over his shoulder when we get into the car. He doesn’t look at all surprised to see me back. I wonder if he knew, somehow, what would happen between Tomas and me. He ca
tches my eye and smiles a little bit, as if he’s been rooting for this all along, and I can’t help smiling back.

  I rest my head on Tomas’s shoulder as we ride back to the house. It’s dark outside now, and it feels like we’re inside a tunnel, or maybe deep beneath the ocean. It feels like we’re the only people in the world. Tomas traces the tips of his fingers up and down my arm, electrifying me. My heart pounds in my chest.

  Back at the house, I climb out of the car and stand in the driveway, unsure of what to do.

  “It’s your house too,” Tomas says, wrapping an arm around my waist and leading me toward the door.

  It’s not my house. I’ll never feel like this place is my house.

  Will I?

  As I step into the foyer, that feeling lifts like a fog. It’s so familiar. I feel so welcome.

  I’m home.

  I’m distracted by the patter of small footsteps. Lara comes bursting into the foyer, clearly excited to see her father, but she skids to a halt and stares at me.

  “You’re back?”

  “I’m back,” I confirm.

  She eyes me suspiciously. “Are you staying this time?”

  I look at Tomas. I can’t bring myself to be the one to tell his daughter anything. He should be the one to give her the news about us.

  He nods a little.

  I turn back to Lara. “Yes,” I tell her. “I’m staying this time. I’m sorry for leaving. It won’t happen again.”

  She rushes forward and wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my stomach.

  Anne comes into the room, wearing the same knowing smile Karl had. “Come on, Lara,” she says. “It’s time for bed.”

  “I want to stay up with Emma,” Lara protests.

  “I’m sure Emma’s very tired too,” Anne says. “She had a long day. The two of you can play together tomorrow.”

  Lara looks at me. “Can we?”

  “For as long as you want,” I promise. “But Anne’s right. We both need to get some sleep right now.”

  In reality, sleeping is the last thing in the world I feel like doing. All my nerves are alert and zinging. I can practically feel Tomas’s presence behind me.

  Lara nods. “All right then,” she says. She hugs me again, then allows Anne to take her hand and lead her from the room.

  “She’s over the moon to see you back,” Tomas says.

  “Little kids get attached quickly,” I say. “I’ve been through something like that with most of the kids I’ve tutored. They have a hard time saying goodbye. But she would have gotten over it quickly.”

  “I wouldn’t have,” Tomas says.

  I move to him and stand on my toes to kiss him again, feeling silly and carried away. This whole night is like a dream I don’t ever want to wake up from.

  “I’m glad she has you,” Tomas says, his eyes searching mine. “The truth is that I’ve often felt like I’m not enough for her.”

  “Why would you say that?” I protest. “You two have one of the strongest bonds I’ve ever seen in my life. She absolutely adores you, Tomas.”

  “Oh, I know she does,” he agrees. “And I adore her just as much. But I do feel like a girl ought to have a mother. She has Anne, but…I don’t know. It’s not the same. And I can tell she wishes she had a mother in the family.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look at how quickly she took to you,” Tomas says. “She wasn’t just attached to you. She was thinking of you as a member of the family. Taking pictures of all of us together, trying to persuade me to get you to stay. She thinks of you as someone much more integral to our family than Anne. You didn’t see her getting you to take photos of the two of us with Anne on our trip to London, did you?”

  “I just thought it was because I was newer,” I say. “I thought she was more enamored with me because I hadn’t been around for her entire life, the way Anne has.”

  “No, it’s more than that. You’re a parental figure to her. She looks up to you. She wants to be like you. She was always a little interested in photography, but I’ve never seen her so invested in it before. She was emulating you, Emma. Trying to impress you.”

  “She does impress me,” I say. “She’s wise beyond her years.”

  “But she’s a little girl, too,” Tomas says. “She needs a mother.”

  “Is that why you came after me?” I ask, smiling so he’ll know it’s a joke. “You were looking for a mother for Lara?”

  He smiles back. “You’re the only person in the world I’d even consider for such an important job.”

  “I’m flattered,” I admit. “But Tomas, you need to understand something. A mother—or a mother figure—is a good thing for a girl to have. I can say that from experience. But there is nothing in the world as wonderful or as important as a loving parent. And Lara has one of the most loving and involved parents I’ve ever seen. I work with children. I see all kinds of parents. Some are distant, and some aren’t, but you’re in a class of your own. And I think Lara can thank you for a lot of her positive attitude, and her intelligence and wisdom. She’s very lucky to have you. Don’t ever sell yourself short.”

  He embraces me. “That was a wonderful thing to say.”

  I pull his lips down to mine again and kiss him gently. “It’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”

  He takes my hand and leads me on into the kitchen. “I could use a snack before we go to bed,” he says. “How about you?”

  It occurs to me that I’m hungry. I haven’t had much incentive to think about my stomach, what with everything else going on, but now that he mentions it, I remember I haven’t had dinner.

  “Yes,” I agree. “That would be perfect.”

  “And maybe some more champagne?”

  “I wouldn’t say no.” It does feel like a celebration.

  He pulls down another bottle and a pair of glasses. For a moment I feel hyperconscious of the amount of waste we’re making.

  “We never finished that last bottle,” I say.

  “It’s back on the plane, though.” He looks confused.

  “I know, but…well, in my…my old life, I’d never leave a bottle of champagne unfinished and open a new one. I would have gone back for it. I wouldn’t be able to afford this.”

  “I must seem awfully self-indulgent,” he says.

  “It’s just not what I’m used to.”

  He takes my hand and pulls me close. “I don’t know if this will help at all,” he says, “but the bottle won’t be wasted.”

  “No?”

  “My butler always goes out to the plane after I’ve used it, and he isn’t the type to let things go to waste. I’m sure he and Anne will enjoy a glass or two this evening.”

  “You’re not exactly bringing me back down to earth with all this talk of private jets and…plane butlers,” I say, laughing.

  “What? Someone has to take care of the plane!”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  “But I love you.”

  “I love you too.” It feels giddy and delicious to say it out loud after so long holding it back.

  Tomas makes coconut macaroons. During the twenty minutes they spend in the oven, we kiss nonstop. My back is pressed to the refrigerator, and the smell of the cookies baking wafts through the kitchen, delicious and intoxicating. His hands roam slowly over my body. He keeps them outside my clothes, although I’m beginning to ache for the feel of his skin on mine. He seems in no hurry. It’s decadent.

  The timer rings, and Tomas takes the cookies out of the oven. After letting them cool for a moment, he hands one to me. I bite into it and it melts in my mouth.

  “This is delicious,” I say.

  “They’ve always been my favorite,” he agrees, his eyes meeting mine.

  And then, suddenly and with almost no warning, we’re in each other’s arms again.

  The cookies sit forgotten on the counter beside us. They smell wonderful, but I don’t want to eat. There are far more important things I want to do
with my mouth.

  Tomas slides his hands up my back and buries them in my hair, gripping, careful not to pull. I don’t think I would mind if he did. Every inch of my body feels alive, as though a current of electricity is running across my skin. I press closer to him, hungry and needy and desperate for more.

  One of his hands goes to my waist. My shirt has ridden up a little bit, exposing a bit of skin, and his fingers land there.

  I feel as if I’m on fire.

  I want his shirt off. I want to feel the expanse of his chest. I want to see his muscles. I want to taste his skin. But we’re in the kitchen, I remember suddenly, and anyone could walk in. We have no privacy here.

  We really need to get ourselves under control.

  I detach myself from Tomas, gasping, struggling to regain my composure. I feel wild. He looks wild. The green of his eyes is almost obscured, his pupils are so dilated.

  I’m burning to dive back into his arms, to capture his lips in another kiss. I back away several feet instead. Keep it together.

  Tomas regards me carefully. “Do you want to go to bed?” he asks. “Would you like me to show you to your rooms? I don’t think your luggage is here yet, but I can give you shorts and a T-shirt to sleep in.”

  “No.” That’s the last thing I want. If he takes me to my rooms, he’ll say goodnight to me. He’ll go back to his own suite, leaving me on my own. And I can’t stand the thought of our being separated. Not while I’m burning like this. It’s all I can do to put these few feet between us.

  Tomas seems to understand. He’s watching me with an intensity like nothing I’ve ever seen before.

  “You could come to bed with me,” he says, a slight hesitation in his voice.

  I don’t answer.

  “Only if you wanted to,” he hastens to add. “I don’t mean to put any pressure on you, Emma. Truly. We can say goodnight now, if you’d like. We can stay here and eat these cookies. But if you want more…if you’re ready for more…it’s up to you. Whatever you want.”

  Whatever I want…

  The very idea of it sends shivers down my spine.

  And the fear and hesitation I’ve been combating since the day I met Tomas is gone as if it had never been. All my doubts have disappeared. How could I have ever questioned this man’s love for me? How could I have ever thought that we didn’t belong together?