Chapter Sixteen

The next couple of days seemed to drag on interminably for both McKinley and Grace. They had agreed to wait for any additional sexual encounters until they arrived in Paris. But that didn’t stop them from taunting each other with texts throughout the day.

How’s the meeting going, Mac? Need anything?

I need you, Gracie, with your legs spread, begging for my cock.

Hmm, shall I join the meeting then? I could slide under the conference table and take care of your lust for you.

Just the thought of that makes me hard as a rock.

Mmm, I have an idea of how to take care of that!

They left Amsterdam feeling both nervous and excited. The plane ride from Schiphol to Charles De Gaulle was filled with flirty banter and had them both incredibly aroused.

When they finally arrived at Le Bristol Paris hotel, the sexual tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. But fate seemed determined to hold their lust at bay for just a bit longer. As luck would have it, Alice called while they were getting settled in their suite.

“I’m sorry, Grace, I need to take this,” he apologized.

“No worries,” she said as he went into his room and closed the door. She tried not to be annoyed that he felt the need to shut her out to take Alice’s call.

He waited until he was behind closed doors to answer his phone. “Hello, Alice. What’s up?”

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, Mr. Stewart, but I need you on a call in fifteen minutes,” Alice said, sounding flustered.

“Fifteen minutes? Alice, that’s not much lead time,” McKinley said crossly.

“I was just made aware of the call before I contacted you. Richard Denby requested you personally, or I would handle it myself,” Alice replied.

He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair and sighed, “That guy is a pain in my ass. Fine. It may take me twenty minutes to get situated. Stall for me if necessary.”

“Yes, sir.”

Grace could tell that Mac’s mood had changed when he emerged from his room. Hoping to lighten things up, she tucked away her irritation and smiled lightheartedly.

“The hotel is beautiful! We should look around, perhaps have some tea or take a swim,” she suggested.

“I have to be on an important call in about fifteen minutes. But feel free to go ahead,” he said, distracted.

“Oh,” she said, working hard to push her disappointment aside, “I don’t mind waiting for you.”

“Don’t bother; I could end up being a long time on this call. Richard Denby is a pompous ass and thinks the world revolves around him. He’s not likely to keep things brief,” McKinley said curtly.

“What about dinner?” she asked quietly.

“You’d be better off dining alone. I will grab myself something,” he said. “I’m sorry, Grace, I have to get ready to be on the call. Don’t sit around on my account. Feel free to go check things out.”

He closed his door again and left her standing there.

She retreated to her own room and changed into tan capri pants, a short-sleeved blouse with a pastel floral print, and some sensible walking shoes. She was glad she’d packed her Keds for such an occasion like this. She grabbed a cream-colored sweater and left a note for Mac.

I’m sure you forgot, but I arranged for an early dinner ahead of time. Go ahead and have it when you finish with your call. Don’t wait up for me. I’m in Paris, checking things out.

Then she grabbed her cross-body handbag and headed out to see Paris.

She was waylaid by the sight of a cat wandering in the lounge area. She instinctively bent down and reached out her hand to encourage the fluffy white kitty to come closer for some petting.

“Well, hello, you sweet kitty,” Grace said in a cooing voice.

The bartender looked up from the bar. “That’s Fa-Raon,” he said with a thick French accent. “He is our famous feline resident. Feel free to pet him; he’s quite friendly.”

“He lives here at the hotel?” she asked.

“Oui, he has the run of the house, and he adores attention,” he explained.

Grace scratched Fa-Raon under his chin and was rewarded with instant purring, which sounded like a tiny motor.

“He’s adorable!” Grace said. She continued petting him while he wound his tail around her legs and nudged his head against her calf.

“He certainly likes you!” the bartender laughed.

Grace smiled and looked at his name tag. “Julien, can you tell me how to get to the Arc de Triomphe?”

“Are you planning to take a taxi or an Uber?” Julien asked.

“Oh, I had hoped it was in walking distance,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“It is,” he said, tilting his head. “I must apologize for assuming that a lady staying in the Penthouse Suite would not be interested in walking.”

“How do you know I am staying in the Penthouse Suite?”

His eyes glanced briefly at her left hand. “Mademoiselle, I am a bartender. It is my job to know these things.”

When he saw the concerned look on her face, he added, “I’m teasing, of course. I saw you and your gentleman when you were checking in. You seemed very smitten with each other. And, yet, here you, about to depart alone.”

Grace took a deep breath and blew it out. “Yes, well, my gentleman had sudden business to attend to and forgot about our dinner plans.”

“Quelle dommage!” Julien said. “My shift ends in a few moments. Then I would be happy to walk with you to your destination, or anywhere else you’d like to go. You could play with that pussy while you wait for me.”

“I beg your pardon!” Grace said sharply.

Julien laughed. “I was speaking of the cat, of course.”

Grace turned bright red. “Oh, of course,” she said, her face flush with embarrassment.

She should decline the invitation, but she was feeling lonely and vulnerable. “I’d like that, thank you.”

While she was waiting for Julien to finish his shift, Grace looked at her phone. No message from Mac. She was doing precisely what he had suggested doing, so why did she feel a little guilty?

~~~

McKinley found himself in a foul mood after spending nearly two hours on the call with Richard Denby. His head was pounding, but he had no idea where the Ibuprofen was since they hadn’t finished unpacking when Alice had called. Grace would know where it was.

“Grace!” he called out as he stepped into the living room area of their suite.

No answer.

He knocked on the door to her bedroom, “Grace!”

No answer.

Where the fuck was she?

He remembered telling her not to sit in the room waiting around, but that was two hours ago.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, “Room service!”

He sighed. Maybe his head would hurt less after some food. When he opened the door and saw the champagne on the cart along with the meal, he couldn’t help but envision what Grace had suggested he do with the bottle. Fuck! He’d blown her off earlier, completely forgetting their date. Christ, she must be pissed.

He saw a note on the dining room table. Grace indicated that he should eat without her and not wait up. But he could read between the lines; he’d fucked up again.

“God damn it, Grace! Where are you?” he shouted. He grabbed his phone and sent her a text.

Where are you?

Chapter Seventeen

As they walked along the Champs-Elysee, Julien noticed that Grace seemed troubled.

“He’s probably busy, don’t worry. If he’s not an idiot, I’m sure he will call you or text you when he completes his business. In the meantime, allow yourself to enjoy a walk in the late afternoon sun, to one of the most popular monuments, with a man who finds you very attractive,” he said.

Grace blushed. “I’m sorry I’m so distracted. Of course, you’re right. I’m entitled to have some fun. Although, as attractive as I find you as well, I hope I can trust you to be a gentleman.”

Julien grinned sheepishly. “Sadly, my mother raised me to be so. But given even the slightest encouragement, I would gladly show you more than just Paris.”

“Thank you. For now, let’s just stick to sightseeing.”

Julien wondered if McKinley Stewart realized what an amazing woman Grace was. As vulnerable as she was feeling right now, it would be easy to give in to his desire to seduce her. But he was a patient man. He could wait for the snobby, American businessman to fuck up again. No need to rush things. He would be a friend to her for now, someone she could reach out to for comfort.

He knew he’d have no chance in hell of stealing her away permanently. She was too high class to fall for a bartender. But he would love to taste her for a night. If he played his cards right, he might just get lucky eventually.

When they reached the Arc de Triomphe, Julien was adamant that they go all the way to the top. “You need to see what an amazing view there is,” he insisted. “Many tourists say you’ll see the best views of Paris up there.”

After navigating the narrow staircase to the top, Grace had to agree that the view was breathtaking. She gazed longingly at the Eiffel Tower but realized that she would have to wait for another day to visit it.

When she pulled her phone out of her purse to check the time, Grace saw Mac’s text. She was planning to ignore it, but Julien noticed and said, “Grace, I’ve had a lovely time with you. But I should get you back to the hotel.”

Grace sighed, “I suppose you’re right.”

“Rather than walk back, I will call for an Uber,” he said. “That way, you’ll get back to your gentleman more quickly.”

Grace nodded. She wouldn’t say no to a ride. While climbing the two hundred eighty-four steps to the Arc de Triomphe's top on the narrow winding staircase, she noticed a blister starting on her left heel. So much for thinking that she was wearing sensible shoes.

On the way back to the hotel, Julien asked, “So, will your gentleman be angry that you went off with another man?”

Grace laughed, “My gentleman is my boss. I am his assistant.”

“Oh,” he remarked. “Then, may I see you again?”

“That probably isn’t a good idea, Julien. I’m sorry,” she said sadly. “It's complicated."

As the Uber pulled up in front of Le Bristol, Mac was outside waiting. He watched as Grace emerged with a handsome stranger. Anger bubbled near the surface when he marched over to her and asked tersely, "Where the fuck have you been?"

Julien stepped in and said, "Monsieur, do not misunderstand. I work here at the hotel. Mademoiselle Remy asked if I could show her to the Arc de Triomphe. I took her there, showed her around, and brought her back here. Nothing untoward happened."

Grace felt her own fury rising in her throat. "What are you doing outside? Do you really want to cause a scene out here, Mac?"

Then she turned to Julien. "Thank you so much for your hospitality. It was very kind of you."

"Come visit Fa-Raon anytime," Julien said with a wink. Then he left Grace standing alone with Mac.

"Did you forget the part of this job where you need to appear to be my lover?" McKinley asked crossly.

Grace was incensed, "Did you forget the part where I had arranged an evening that might have secured that as a reality, and you blew me off?"

"I had work, Grace," he sniped.

"And I would have waited patiently for you. Instead, you shut me out and sent me away. So, you have no right to be pissed at me," she replied.

"What bullshit is this in your note to not wait up for you?" he shouted.

People on the street turned their attention to Mac and Grace, making him realize this was hardly the time and place to be hashing things out with her.

"Come upstairs, Grace," he said.

She almost declined when she remembered that she had signed a contract agreeing to the ruse of being lovers. "Fine," she answered petulantly.

Mac was grateful for her cooperation, even though he knew from her tone that Grace was clearly not fine.

Chapter Eighteen

They were silent as they walked into the hotel and remained so for the elevator ride to their Penthouse Suite. Once inside the room, however, it was a much different story.

"Were you out fucking him?" Mac demanded. "We may not be having sex, but that doesn't mean you can go find it with some stranger!"

"Oh, but if you needed release, it would be allowed. I'm sure you would have made use of the brothel in Amsterdam if I hadn't taken care of you by phone," Grace argued.

"Will you just answer the question?" he said, lowering his voice.

Grace toyed with not answering, just to get his goat, but she didn't want to start a more intense argument.

"No, I did not fuck him. He never touched me, except to take my hand to guide me up the staircase. Then again, to get in and out of the Uber car. Satisfied?"

An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment or two.

Mac inhaled sharply. "Look, I’m sorry I went off on you. I just thought we had an understanding that you need to keep up the appearance of being in a relationship with me. Now an employee of the hotel suspects that isn’t true. If word spreads, I will look like a fool. And who’s this other guy, Fa whatever?”

Grace snickered. “Fa-Raon. He’s quite charming, with his long, white hair. And while Julien was a perfect gentleman, Fa-Raon rubbed himself all over me.”

Mac looked like steam was about to come out of his ears, so Grace stopped teasing him.

“Relax, Fa-Raon is a cat. He lives here at the hotel,” she explained. “He enjoys the attention of guests.”

Grace watched as McKinley’s shoulders relaxed and saw some of his anger dissipate.

She waited for him to speak, but he said nothing. So, she said, “You told me to go, so I did. I did nothing wrong. Julien is a bartender, so he understands the code of silence. He won’t spread the word that he went sightseeing with McKinley Stewart’s whore.”

With that, she turned to go to her room. Mac caught her and pulled her into a passionate embrace. She didn’t pull away. She may have been angry and hurt, but she was needy as well. However, once he broke off the kiss, he shook his head and retreated into his room.

Grace stood there, dumbfounded. She was at a loss as to what her next move should be. When her stomach growled, she remembered she hadn’t eaten anything since the plane ride. She headed to the kitchen area and saw the room service cart with both meals untouched. So, he hadn’t eaten either. Somehow, that made her feel better.

Figuring it would be rude to eat without him since he hadn’t done so without her, she grabbed only a dinner roll and then retrieved a bottle of water from the kitchen area. Then she went to her room and closed the door.

She let the tub fill while she nibbled on the dinner roll. Once the water reached near the top, she undressed and sank her body into the hot water. It felt marvelous.

She washed her hair and used her lavender bath gel to wash her body. But she was enjoying the bath too much to get out of the tub yet. Perhaps she would just stay in a bit longer and relax.

Just as she closed her eyes, she heard her phone buzz. She looked at the screen and saw a text from Mac.

Where’s the fucking Ibuprofen?

She didn’t know why she had supposed it would be an apology from him. Before she could reply, he barged into her room and then into the bathroom.

“My head feels like it’s going to explode!” he said gruffly. “Where’s the…”

Suddenly, Mac realized that Grace was in the tub. He’d come barreling in here, shouting like an ogre, not even once considering she might be naked.

“Oh, I, um. I’m sorry,” he stammered.

“It’s fine,” she said as she stood up and stepped out of the tub. She figured Mac wouldn’t try anything with his head in agony. She wrapped a towel around her and said, “Go sit on the couch in my room, and I will grab the pain meds and some water.” Mac nodded and did as she told him.

When she came out of the bathroom, she felt pity for him. He was sitting hunched over with his head between his knees, making a noise that sounded almost like whimpering.

She handed him the pills and helped him sit up to put them in his mouth and swallow them. She sat next to him and pulled him in toward her so that his head rested on her shoulder.

“Should I call for a doctor?” she asked, worried.

He shook his head. “No, I just let the headache stew for too long without taking something.”

“You need to eat,” she said softly. “I’m sure the dinner has been sitting out for too long, but I can ring room service for something quick.”

He wanted to be stubborn, but he was in no shape to argue with her. “Fine,” he said.

He watched as Grace got up and finished drying herself off. Then she let the towel drop to the floor while she took out a navy-blue knee-length nightgown and slipped it over her head, and smoothed it down over her body.

When she looked at Mac, she noticed his growing erection. “I thought your head hurt,” she laughed.

“My head is pounding, but my dick still reacts to a beautiful woman,” he said with a weak laugh. “Especially when that woman is you.”

She shook her head, “You’re incorrigible.”

Forty-five minutes later, Mac and Grace were eating soup in the sitting room that had a window overlooking the gardens. Although it was nighttime, the lighting made it seem almost magical.

“How’s the head?” she asked.

“Better,” he admitted. “Doctor Gracie to the rescue again.”

She smiled. “I’m just glad you are feeling better. I was worried. I’m going to make sure that you have Ibuprofen in your bathroom and put some in a small vial you can carry in your pocket throughout the day. That way, you can take something as soon as you feel the headache start.”

He didn’t argue. He was just grateful that she’d taken care of him when he’d been such a jackass to her.

“I feel like you’ve had a lot of headaches lately. Is that normal for you?” she asked, concerned.

“It’s just stress,” he said. “Once I get a few of these acquisition transitions under my belt, they will ease up.”

Grace continued to eat quietly. She realized that having her in bed could significantly reduce his stress level. But she also didn’t want to encourage him to continue his disrespectful behavior.

She supposed arriving at the hotel with a strange man didn’t help matters. But it had been entirely innocent. Surely, Julien didn’t have any designs on her, did he?

As if reading her mind, he said, “I’m sorry I accused you of fucking the bartender. I just got angry. First at myself, then at you, then at myself again.”

He took a sip of his tea and continued, “Now that I am calmer, and the death-grip pain in my head is subsiding, I want you to know that it’s not you that I’m worried about; it’s Julio.”

“Julien,” she corrected him, “And you have nothing to worry about, Mac. He knows that I am with you.”

“It won’t stop him from trying to get into your pants. You didn’t see the way he was looking at your ass,” Mac said bluntly. “Although I can hardly blame him; it’s a spectacular ass, Grace.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “Well, thank you. But I think I can keep him out of my pants.”

“True. You’ve managed to keep me out of them pretty well.”

“And whose fault is that?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

When he didn’t answer her, she felt her irritation growing again.

“You hurt my feelings when you blew me off, Mac,” she said as her chin moved a little defiantly into the air. “It was bad enough that you suddenly forgot our plans the minute Alice called. But insisting on closing the door on me so you could talk to her privately just rankled me.”

“I’m sorry. I truly am, Grace,” he said. “I’m not used to giving a shit about anyone else. Why else do you suppose I had to hire an escort for this trip?”

“I don’t recall anything in the contract I signed about you being allowed to behave like an asshole while I stand back and just take it,” she said.

McKinley laughed, “No, that’s just a bonus.”

Grace looked at him and shook her head.

“Now that you’re feeling better, I’m going to go to my room and read over tomorrow’s agenda. I need to make sure that I haven’t overlooked anything,” she lied. She just didn’t want to give in to the urges she was starting to feel.

Mac took her hand and held on for a moment. “Not just yet. Please?”

“Mac, look. I’m done being angry, but I’m not done being hurt. I just need some time to sort through my feelings. I thought what we had planned tonight was important to you. I get that you couldn’t have known that you’d be interrupted by a business matter. But you completely forgot about our date the moment Alice’s call came through. I watched your whole demeanor change when your phone rang.”

“I tend to let business dominate my thoughts more than they should,” Mac admitted.

“Oh? You think?” she snapped at Mac sarcastically. “We spent days flirting, teasing, and texting, Mac. It was the longest fucking foreplay I’ve ever experienced. And it was amazing. I couldn’t wait to be in your bed, and you couldn’t wait to get me there. Then suddenly, the moment came, and you blew me off and shut me out!”

He sat quietly while she let all those emotions that he’d seen in her eyes come tumbling out.

“Look, Mac, I just feel like fate keeps tossing obstacles in our way. Maybe we just aren’t meant to be bedmates. We seem to be on different wavelengths. I don’t know. I just feel…” Grace stopped when she saw Mac’s eyes well up.

“I’m frustrated too, Grace,” Mac interrupted. “I was looking forward to a chance to redeem myself and to enjoy each other in the process. And, instead, we’re at an impasse. I want you, Grace. I want to taste you and fuck you, yes. But I also want to hold you and kiss you. And that isn’t something I can seem to wrap my head around.”

“I’d be interested in all of the above,” she said, exasperated. “But it just seems like it’s not meant to be.”

She turned and headed to her room, knowing full well that if he stopped her, she’d give in. But he didn’t move. So, she went to her room and closed the door.

Mac headed to his own room and did the same.

Chapter Nineteen

Grace sat on the bed, trying to fight back her tears. If she expected McKinley Stewart to make the first move, she’d be waiting a long time. Her mind and heart were at war with each other over what to do. She hated the idea of giving in, but she couldn’t bear the thought of being at odds like this for the next eleven months or so.

She looked at the schedule of events for tomorrow. Mac would need her in the presentation meeting and requested her attendance at lunch. But she had the rest of the afternoon off. Some time on her own might be what she needed to clear her head. She was looking at the Guide to Paris book to plan an excursion when her phone buzzed.

I am truly, deeply sorry.

So, he was capable of making the first move. She was touched by that and sent a reply.

I know you are, Mac.

She wanted, very much, to cave and just go to him. But her pride wouldn’t allow it. However, she needed to find a way to give them both another chance. She owed him that much; she’d signed a contract after all.

She took a quick peek at the schedule again and dangled a carrot.

Tomorrow’s dinner is early. The reservation is at Café Antonia and is a casual meal at 5:30 p.m. with a small group of associates from the Paris firm. You should be done by 8:00 p.m. Then you can come back to the room and have dessert with me.

McKinley was brushing his teeth when Grace’s text popped up on his phone. He read it and sent her a quick reply.

I promise you that dessert will be much more satisfying than last time.

She replied, smirking as she typed.

As I recall, the first part of our dessert was delicious. It was the aftertaste that left much to be desired. I have one condition.

His reply was immediate.

Anything!

She hoped that he meant it, for she had serious doubts he could comply.

You must turn off your phone before we begin. I won’t have Alice, or anyone else for that matter, spoiling my appetite.

He hesitated for a moment, then he wrote back.

Dessert means sex, right?

She laughed as she answered.

Yes, Mac, dessert means sex. I want you; you want me. We just need to stop letting others get in our way. The phone goes off, or no deal.

Mac felt the remaining stress headache dissipate. She wanted him. He could be a dick about it or give her what she requested. In the end, his need for her took precedent over his pride.

Deal.

Grace breathed a sigh of relief. She knew it unnerved McKinley to be unreachable for any amount of time. Maybe he did want her enough to go off the grid for an hour or two. She’d see if he could actually do so; her fingers were crossed.

Breakfast is at 7:00 a.m. See you then. Goodnight, Mac.

Goodnight Gracie. Thanks for helping my headache go away. And for giving me another chance.

She set her phone on the nightstand and debated whether to masturbate or leave herself deprived. She decided on the latter, hoping Mac would do the same. She suspected that he’d be a lot more willing to follow through with keeping his phone turned off if he felt needy too.

So, she planned her afternoon for the next day. After lunch with Mac and Andre Boivin, the Paris firm's CEO, she would head out to the Louvre and finally see the infamous Mona Lisa in person.

But before she went to bed, she pulled out the emerald-green nightgown that Mac had seen her in before the trip. She would make sure to be wearing this when he returned to the suite after dinner tomorrow night. Maybe he’d forget his phone even existed once he saw her in it again. Perhaps they would finally end up in bed together again. Only this time, she hoped, it would be so much better. She was counting on it!