chill at the end of a long day.”
“I think I’ll pass. It’s way past my bedtime.”
“But you just finished saying how much you love house music.”
“I do, but the club scene is not really my thing.”
“Come on. Live in the moment. Throw caution to the wind. Be spontaneous.”
Brianna laughed again. “You sound like a self-help tape.”
“Good! Is it working?” he asked, flashing a camera-ready smile. “I hope so because I want to hold you in my arms tonight.”
Excitement powered through Brianna’s veins. His words aroused her, making her feel warm inside. She was enjoying Collin’s company immensely and, although it was well after midnight, she didn’t want the evening to end.
“We’re in one of the most romantic and thrilling cities in the world,” he pointed out, standing. “If you can’t have fun and cut loose here, you can’t have fun anywhere.”
“Collin, we just met a few hours ago. How would it look if I left the bar with you?”
“You’re an attractive young woman who wants to have a good time. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He leaned against the side of the bar, just inches away from her face, and spoke in a tone that he probably used only in the privacy of his bedroom. The thought of it gave her chills. “You’ll be perfectly safe with me, Brianna. I’m a gentleman, and I’ll behave as such at all times.”
“Is that a promise?” The question was out of Brianna’s mouth before she could stop it.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
Brianna hid a cheeky smile and swallowed the provocative quip on the tip of her tongue. She’d never been one to act on impulse, and she always did exactly what was expected of her. But she’d realized something about herself after Bailey’s kidnapping. Deep down, she longed for more—more spontaneity, more thrills. Life had never felt so precious, so valuable, and tonight Brianna wanted to do something wild and completely out of character.
So, why not do Collin? she thought. Spending the rest of her night cooped up in her hotel suite sketching designs didn’t appeal to her, but dancing in a Paris nightclub with a hot, dreamy brother sure did.
“We’ll go check out Le Baron, and if you’re not feeling it, we’ll leave.”
Brianna liked the sound of that and how good it felt to have Collin’s hand on the small of her back as she rose from her stool. But when she saw Evangeline sashay into Bar 8 with her enormous entourage, Brianna felt the smile slide off her face. The French pop star looked like a vixen, and she moved like one, too. In her sheer, neon-pink mini-dress, she’d fit in perfectly at a hoochie-mama convention, but there was no disputing her beauty. Evangeline was a ten—one of the most desirable women in the world and every man’s type. Brianna noticed the staff scurrying around the bar, grabbing menus, pulling up chairs and draping tables with crisp, white tablecloths.
Paying her no mind, Evangeline bumped Brianna aside with her hips and pressed herself flat against Collin’s back. His smile vanished and the look on his face said “Busted.” Evangeline lowered her mouth to his ear and purred like a kitten with a bowl of warm milk.
“Look, Collin, now you have a very eager dance partner.” Brianna opened her purse, took a hundred euros out of her wallet and tossed it down on the counter to pay her tab and Collin’s. The stunned expression on his face gave Brianna an odd sense of satisfaction. She’d one-upped him, and that felt damn good. “Enjoy the rest of your night,” she said, faking a smile.
Evangeline stroked Collin’s chest with one hand and waved absently with the other. “Don’t worry, mon cherie—we will.”
“Brianna, hold up,” Collin said. “Wait! Don’t go!”
His pleas fell on deaf ears. Without another word, Brianna strode out of Bar 8 and into the lobby of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. Sorry she’d wasted her time with Collin, she chided herself for spending the past three hours laughing and flirting with another woman’s man. Contrary to what he’d told her, it was obvious he was screwing Evangeline and that everything he’d told her about his relationship with the pop star was a lie. Collin was a player, a man who got off on seducing women, and Brianna was glad she’d found out the truth about him before it was too late.
Before she did something stupid like sleep with him.
Collin was a jerk, a guy with no conscience, and Brianna hoped to God she never saw his lying, cheating face again.
But long after Brianna boarded the private elevator and returned to her suite, the guy at the bar with the soulful voice and the dreamy, deep-brown eyes was still heavy on her mind.
Chapter 3
“Bonjour, Monsieur Childs,” greeted the silver-haired hotel manager standing at the reception desk. “You’re looking hale and hearty this morning and, might I add, quite sharp in that tan sports coat.”
Collin returned the manager’s smile. Leaning forward, he stole a quick glance over his shoulder. No one was standing behind him, and the female clerks at the front desk were busy with customers, but Collin still lowered his voice to a whisper. “I met a young woman at Bar 8 last night, and I’d like to know if she’s staying here at Mandarin Oriental.”
The manager gasped and shook his head. Seconds passed before he spoke, and when he did his tone was filled with alarm. “Monsieur Childs, I’m afraid I simply cannot disclose that information. It’s against hotel policy.” He wore a wry smile that made him look decades younger. “But I don’t have to tell you that. Childs International Hotels is one of the most celebrated hotels in the world, and the Childs Corporation prides itself on providing world-class service and discretion.”
Collin winced. He felt like a kid who’d just been scolded by his teacher, and when the hotel manager shot him a pointed look, Collin stared down at his Italian loafers. What he was asking the hotel manager to do was not only unethical, but also completely out of character.
He didn’t pursue females—he didn’t need to. Women were constantly throwing themselves at him, always ready, willing and eager to dive into his bed and his bank account. It was easy for Collin to sniff out a gold digger, and the attractive fashion designer he’d spent hours talking to last night at Bar 8 certainly didn’t fit the bill. That’s why he didn’t mind breaking a rule or two, or three, to track her down.
“I’m not asking you for Brianna’s suite number, or even her last name, so technically you’re not breaking the rules,” he said with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. “Just think of this as a favor to a trustworthy guest who’ll forever be indebted to you for your kindness.”
Collin knew he was laying it on thicker than molasses, but he’d made up his mind last night, while watching the French national team crush Spain in the World Cup qualifying match, that he wasn’t leaving Paris without finding Brianna. And the first stop on his list was the front desk of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel.
“Sir, I’m not trying to rush you,” Collin said, “but it’s imperative I speak to her today and I’m pressed for time.”
The hotel manager opened his mouth,
