How to Lose a Fiancé by Stefanie London

Author:Stefanie London
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Entangled; Indulgence; Romantic Comedy; Two-Hour Romance Short Reads; Billionaire Romance; American Humorous Fiction; Contemporary Romance Fiction; Contemporary Women's Fiction; General Humorous Fiction; Holiday Romance; Humor & Satire Fiction; Genre Fiction; Fairytale retelling; Cinderella; RomCom; Contemporary Romance; Laugh out Loud; Humor; Arranged Marriage; Billionaire; Strong Woman; Rags to Riches; Quirky; Funny
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2019-09-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Halfway through the Parisian escapade, Dion came to the conclusion that it was time to pull out the big guns. He’d been sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms so Sophia could experience the luxury apartment in full by having the king suite to herself. But their kiss had been playing on his mind in a loop.

Not to mention that watching her day after day, blossoming from the guarded woman who hid behind false quirks to a woman who was as beautiful as she was fun to be around, had him thinking a hell of a lot about what it would be like to crawl into that big bed beside her.

He’d caught her staring at him a number of times as he’d padded from the bathroom to his bedroom with only a towel around his waist. He knew the unmistakable signals of lust, and she was sending them loud and clear. But she was holding back, as was he. Sophia was skittish. Moving too fast would scare her away, but slowly he’d been drawing her into his orbit. Tempting her with the possibility of them.

And in the process, he’d totally and utterly tempted himself.

“You’re staring.” Sophia looked up at him. Even in towering silver stilettoes with fine platforms under the balls of her feet, she was a good several inches shorter than him.

But her petite stature didn’t seem to affect the length of her legs, which were given the illusion of endlessness thanks to the heels and the racy hemline. They walked along the Parisian street, and Sophia was getting attention from almost everyone—men and women—who passed them. How could he blame them? The woman was a knockout.

Each day she’d ventured into the closet of designer items. Each day she grew a little bolder in her choices, bypassing the pretty dresses he’d seen her wear in pictures from events with her parents to more daring, artistic outfits. Perhaps the real Sophia was somewhere between cocktail dresses and clown pants after all.

It was like watching her be born—watching her true self come alive under the warmth of freedom. Without her father and without the pressure of maintaining a false identity, she’d become the best version of herself. Not simply beautiful because of her looks, but because of fact that she laughed more readily, spoke more confidently, and revealed more of herself and her past.

“How could I not? You’re a vision.”

She slipped her hand into his as they came to the edge of the sidewalk, relying on him to make sure she stepped down carefully so they could cross the road. Afterward, she didn’t remove her hand.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Was that an actual compliment?” He pressed his free hand to his chest. “Wait. Say it again so I can record you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You act like it’s the first time you’re hearing it, and I know that’s not the case. In fact, I’m pretty sure that waitress at dinner propositioned you when you were paying the check.”

“She did, but that’s entirely beside the point.

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