Page 51 of Playing Mr. Perfect

“We’re following Mr. Blanchet.”

“I know that.”

He just flashes those dimples and keeps on walking.

After going through a brief security check, we’re taken into an elevator by ourselves. I’ve never been afraid of heights, but my heart is already racing with anticipation, and watching the world get smaller as we ascend in the belly of the iron tower brings a hint of anxiety.

Clay’s arm circles me from behind, pulling me against his chest. “You okay, Reckless?”

Better now. “Yeah.”

We step out of the elevator on the second floor, and there are a lot of other people milling about. Mr. Blanchet tells us to take our time.

“Why did we ride up alone?” I ask Clay as we make our way to a railing.

“Because I didn’t want to share you with anyone.”

He kisses me like he didn’t just say the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. As we make our way around the perimeter, taking in the magnificent views of the city, he keeps me close, the way he has been doing all day. We both take pictures as I point out the Louvre, Montmartre, Notre-Dame, and more. “Look at the river,” I say. “It looks like a ribbon running through the city.” I snap a picture of it and glance at Clay, catching him taking pictures of me. “You’re missing the view.”

“I’m not missing a thing. I’ve got the best seat in the house.”

I shake my head, but the more he says things like that, the more I believe he really feels that way. As we circle the tower, the sun is hovering just above the horizon, like a mother watching over her children as evening sets in.

“Time to go, sweetheart.” Clay takes my hand again.

“But the sun is about to set. Do you think Mr. Blanchet would mind if we stay to watch it?”

“No, but I will.” He leads me to a different elevator, where Mr. Blanchet is waiting for us.

“Why?” I ask as the elevator doors close.

“Because you deserve the best view of the sunset,” Clay says, and the elevator starts going up.

My pulse skyrockets. “I thought the top floor was closed?”

“It is. But I promised you an unforgettable time, and I am a man of my word.”

The magic of the evening must be getting to me, because I full-on swoon. My heart feels too big for my chest, my body tingles with happiness, and I feel a little dizzy.

I hold on to Clay as we step out of the elevator and are met with a cold wind. He tucks me beneath his arm and kisses my temple, keeping me close as we choose the spot with the best view to watch the sunset. As the sun makes its gentle farewell, painting the sky with gorgeous streaks of pinks, oranges, and purples, the lights of the city bloom to life in twinkles and bursts of gold and white, until they’re all we see.

I’m so overwhelmed by the magnificence before us, “Clay” comes out just above a whisper. “This is extraordinary.”

“It sure is,” he says huskily, those piercing blue eyes locked on me.

I want to memorize the rush of emotions swirling inside me, but it feels a little too dangerous, because our time together, our fling, will soon be over. I try to shut down that rational part of my brain again, but without the light of day, with Clay looking at me like he truly believes I’m extraordinary, I’m stuck in some middle ground between caution and the wind.

But then he lowers his lips to mine, holding me possessively, and kisses me so thoroughly, every ounce of me aches to be closer to him, and my caution flits away in the wind.

Chapter Thirteen

Pepper

I take back everything I said about Paris not being romantic.

I feel like I’m living in a fairy tale. Not only did Clay literally lose his breath at the sight of me in my new Dior cocktail dress, but he also hired a driver to take us to the Crazy Horse in a vintage Bentley. I was floating on cloud nine in the back of the ritzy car with this beautiful man who has been making my heart sing all day. Imagine my surprise when we pulled up to the venue and saw bright red, illuminated lips. It turns out we’re not seeing a Western show, but a cabaret featuring female nude dancers, and Clay knew exactly what the Crazy Horse was the entire day.

Needless to say, he got a kick out of seeing my shock.