By Melanie Harlow
Release: March 18, 2014
A Sexy Adult Contemporary Romance
Amazon | Barnes and Noble
Mia Devine plans over-the-top weddings for a living. So when it comes to her own nuptials, she spares no expenseâhand engraved invitations, Vera Wang gown, luxury honeymoon in France. And since her fiancÃ© is Tucker Branch, playboy heir and notorious flirt, local media is obsessed with every little detail.
Which is why it really sucks when he jilts her a week before the wedding.
Mortified, Mia wants nothing more than to crawl under her newly monogrammed sheets and plan a funeral for her dignity, right after blabbing to the world how fitting it is that Tucker will inherit a bolt and screw company, because thatâs all he wants to doâscrew, and bolt. And he doesnât do either with much finesse.
When her friends convince her that bitter tastes better when itâs drowned in Bordeaux, she grits her teeth and packs her bags, determined to make the best of a week in Paris alone.
She never planned on meeting Lucas Fournier.
The free-spirited musicianâs scruffy good looks and less-than-sympathetic ear annoy her at first, but when she takes him up on his offer to show her around the city, she discovers that the romance of Paris isnât just a myth.
Nor is the simultaneous O.
The last thing Mia needs is another doomed love affair, but since she only has a week, she figures she might as well enjoy La Vie en O with Lucas while she can. But each dayâand nightâwith him is better than the last, and suddenly her heart is telling her this is more than a rebound fling.
Is it just the seduction of Parisâ¦or could this be the real thing?
Mia and Lucas Meet
âYou hate flying, yet you want to get on another plane first thing in the morning?â
âI have to.â
âNo, you donât.â
Shaking my head, I insisted, âYes, I do. You donât understand.â
âSure I do. Your fiancÃ© called off the wedding and youâre angry and sad or whatever because youâre getting close to your marriage deadline or whatever, but that doesnât mean you canât have a good time here. You came all this way, even though you hate to fly. There must have been a reason.â
Oh, yeah. Thatâs why I was annoyed with him.
Aggravated anew, I sat taller on my seat. âThe reason was that Iâve always wanted to see Paris. Itâs been a dream of mine since I was a kid. I had every day planned out, I knew exactly what we would do, the things we would see. And I thought I could handle it on my own, but now that Iâm here, I canât, OK? I canât handle all the love and romance and fucking happiness all around me when I was supposed to be here on my honeymoon! It isnât fair!â My voice was rising and several people glanced my way, especially since I thumped my hand on the bar with my last word. But how dare he ruin my buzz and the tenuous peace Iâd made with myself about going home!
He shrugged. âLots of things in life arenât fair. Doesnât matter what city youâre in.â
I rolled my eyes as all the attitude progress Iâd made during my second glass of wine came undone. âSpare me the platitudes. Iâve heard a boatload of them in the week since I was unceremoniously dumpedâvia text message, mind youâseven days before my goddamn wedding.â
Lucas regarded me carefully. âYouâve got a problem.â
Brilliant, this asshole. âYes. My problem is that Iâm on my honeymoon, alone.â
âThatâs not your problem.â
My jaw fell open. Who the hell was he to tell me what my problem was? He went on before I could protest.
âYour problem is that you thought things were going to be one way and theyâre not. Youâre not even telling me you miss the guy who was supposed to be here with you. You just donât want to be here alone because that wasnât the plan.â
âThat is not what I said!â
He laughed. âThatâs exactly what you said.â
âWellâ¦â I flapped my hands. âThatâs not what I meant. Iâm flustered. And drunk.â
âSo you do miss him? Because I donât see a heartbroken girl here in front of me. I see someone whoâs angry that her relationship ended badly mostly because it ruined an idea she had about the perfect life. And she flew all the way here, but even Paris isnât enough to distract her from the fact she didnât get exactly what she wanted when she wanted it.â
âIt was more than an idea! It was real. At least, it felt realâ¦most of the time.â My spine curled as the fight left my body. Even my voice weakened. âBut what do I know?â
He spoke softer too. âWant to know what I think?â
He held up his hands. âFair enough.â
I put my credit card on the bar. âI want to pay my bill and leave.â
âThe wine is on the house.â
âBecause you feel sorry for me?â I snapped. God, Mia, just shut up. Why I was letting this guy get to me, I had no idea. Wasnât I in this bar because I felt sorry for myself?
He hesitated before answering. âYes. Originally, I felt sorry for you because some asshole treated you wrong. But now that I know a little more, I think he did you a big favor. Now I feel sorry for you because youâre going to let one bad day ruin a dream that youâve had for such a long time. You know, if you leave tomorrow, I bet you never come back. I bet youâll always think of Paris as a miserable, lonely place.â
I opened my mouth to argue and then closed it. Was he right? Was I letting one bad day speak louder than a lifetime of dreaming about Paris?
âBut Iâd also bet youâre stronger than you think.â
I met his eyes, and they were serious. Was he right? Iâd known coming here wouldnât be easy, but Iâd gotten on that plane. Cocking my head, I asked, âWere you a psych major or something?â
He grinned. âDouble majorâmusic and psychology. Graduate degree in psych. Look, I know we just met, and I do tend to analyze people and open my big mouth when I should probably just keep my opinion to myself. But when you walked in here alone and looked around, I thought, There is a woman who knows what she wants. That confidence is sexy.â
âBut Iâm not confident.â The words came out like a whimper as I stared down at my left hand, where my ring used to be. I wondered where it was nowâIâd thrown it in the toilet, but Coco had rescued it.
âYes, you are. Youâre just a little scared right now.â
Exhaling, I looked up at him through my lashes. âYou argue with everything I say. Itâs really annoying.â
âSorry. Let me make it up to you.â
He thought for a moment. âWell, letâs make a deal. You agree to give Paris one more day, and Iâll agree to spend the day being your tour guideâno psycho-analysis, I promise. If youâre still miserable even when you have a friend by your side, you can grab a flight home the next day. Iâll even call the airline for you.â
âA friend, huh?â
âYou think about it.â He moved down the bar to fill drink orders, and I checked out his ass again.
It really was cute.
About the Author
Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her lipstick red, and her history with the naughty bits left in. I write New Adult historical and contemporary stories.