Fly Me to the Moon by Alyson Noel

Author:Alyson Noel [Noel, Alyson]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: gelesen
ISBN: 9780312355081
Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin
Published: 2010-03-31T22:00:00+00:00

By the time we finished our dessert of little individual lemon tarts, we were feeling so full we decided to take a leisurely walk through the pedestrian-filled streets. And turning onto the boulevard Saint-Michel, we made our way toward the Seine.

“I love this city,” I said, gazing at the beautiful old buildings, and the lively corner cafes. “You’re so lucky to spend so much time here.”

“I am,” he agreed, sliding his arm around my waist and guiding me across the street and over to the Pont Neuf, which despite its name translating to “New Bridge” was actually the oldest in Paris. We walked about halfway, then stopped and leaned against the concrete rail, gazing down at the dark, moody river, the gargoyles of Notre Dame, and the flickering city lights beyond. And just as I leaned into him thinking, Kiss me, he pulled me even closer and pressed his lips against mine.

Like the last time we’d had dinner together, I’d drunk a fair amount of wine. But the feelings I had when I was wrapped in his arms had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with good old-fashioned lust. The kind I hadn’t experienced for a very long time, and certainly not for the bulk of my relationship with Michael.

I ran my hands over Max’s body, feeling the taut muscles of his shoulders, arms, and chest through the soft cotton of his shirt. And then, gripping me even tighter, he pressed his body hard against mine while his lips drifted down to my neck.

“Come back to the Ritz with me,” he whispered.

And I opened my eyes and looked deep into his. “I can’t.”

“Why?” he asked, nipping at my neck again, which almost succeeded in changing my mind.

But then, thinking of all the logistics, like us getting to the Ritz, me getting back to the Grand Hotel in time for pickup the next morning, and then having to work the flight home with the nasty crew and little to no sleep, I shook my head and said, “Really, I can’t. I have to fly back in the morning.”

“But when can I see you again?” he asked, gazing into my eyes.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, thinking how his real home in Boston was actually just a short plane ride away.

“Come back to Paris. Tomorrow.”

“What?” I squinted at him. I mean, was he serious?

“You land at JFK before the evening flight to Paris takes off, right?”

“Well, yeah,” I said, with more than a little hesitation.

“And you fly for free?”

I nodded slowly.

“So, you go through customs, turn around, and come right back. You told me over dinner you have the whole week off, right?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Then it’s perfect. I’ll have Jean Claude pick you up, and you’ll stay with me at the Ritz.”

“But—what about my clothes? I mean, I won’t have time to go home and repack,” I said, realizing that as far as excuses went, it was pretty lame. But even though I was really tempted to go along with his plan, I was still in need of a little more convincing.

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