The meeting adjourned, and Amad took his leave quickly. He’d been grinding his teeth during the entire meeting, a frustration reflex that he couldn’t control. He massaged at his jaw as he hurried back to his room. Vanessa was waiting there, and after a long afternoon of drawn-out meetings, he was ready to unwind.

  He pushed into the room and found Vanessa on the chaise longue reading a book. He loved that just the sight of her could ease his tension and take away his frustrations.

  “There you are.” She set the book down, bending a knee as she sat up a little. “How was it?”

  “Extremely long winded,” Amad said, loosening his skinny tie as he headed toward her. He tugged it off and tossed it aside. “I swear, I could have achieved in one meeting what it took these people three to accomplish.”

  “You’re just used to the brisk pace of business in America,” Vanessa said, scooting aside as Amad joined her on the sofa.

  Amad grimaced. “And I’m used to the brisk pace of men.”

  “Aww, come on now. You don’t really think it’s because you’re dealing with women, do you?”

  “There’s a big difference between the sexes. It’s a proven fact.” He sighed as he stretched out beside her. “It’s why you’re carrying our baby and I’m not.”

  Vanessa giggled. “But you’d be really sexy if you carried our baby.”

  Amad snorted. “Not as good as you make it look.”

  “I’ve barely started showing. Don’t say I make it look good until I’m at forty weeks, okay? Then we’ll know.”

  Amad smoothed a hand over her belly, trying to imagine the imperceptible bump there flourishing into something more. “Babe, you make everything look good. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And you’ll still be the most beautiful woman at forty weeks. And when our baby is three months old. And when he’s one. And forevermore.”

  Vanessa’s sun kissed cheeks flushed momentarily, and her ruby red lips curled up at the corners. “Well aren’t you optimistic?”

  Amad laughed. “Listen. I have a proposition for you.” He swirled an invisible pattern on the sliver of skin exposed by her blouse riding up her stomach. “What do you say we go to Paris this weekend?”

  Vanessa blinked rapidly. “Paris?”

  “Yes, have you heard of it?” Amad teased. “One of the fashion centers of the world…?”

  Vanessa snorted, swatting at his arm. “Real funny, pal. Yeah, I’ve heard of it once or twice. But why Paris? That’s a little…extravagant.”

  “There’s nothing too extravagant for you, my sweet,” Amad said, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

  But she didn’t respond with stars in her eyes or demure whispers. No, whenever Amad tried to lavish the finer things on her, she bucked like a bronco. He didn’t get it. But it didn’t make him want to pamper her any less. She deserved these things—why couldn’t she see that?

  “I don’t know,” Vanessa said. Her gaze drifted toward the window. “I just feel like you’re already doing so much for me here. I’m living for free in your family’s house. I don’t have a job. I can’t even cook my own meals because you have a kitchen staff…”

  “And your point is…?”

  “It would be too much,” she concluded with a sigh. “I don’t want to be even more indebted.”

  “This isn’t a debt to be paid off, I promise. This is a trip because we can take it, and we should take it. Besides, I have an ulterior motive. Calla wants us to go for the fashion business. There are some contacts I need to make. Who knows, we might even have to attend a fashion show or two.”

  Vanessa’s eyes lit up. “Oh, so it’s for work?”

  “Yep.” Amad pinched at her waist. “But I’m still going to spoil you while we’re there. So don’t think you’re escaping that.”

  Vanessa laughed, but he could see the real relief that had taken over. Just his switching the motive from pleasure to work brought her on board. He’d have to work harder to make her see she deserved beautiful things. Her beauty needed its equal. And he’d have plenty of opportunities to show her on their trip.

  “Fine. I accept the offer, then.” Vanessa smiled sweetly. “When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow.” Amad’s chest tightened as he saw the excitement move across her face. “We better start packing our bags, babe. It’s time for Ville de L’amour.”

  The City of Love would be the perfect place to start showing Vanessa how much she meant to him as his wife and the mother of their child. And he couldn’t wait to surprise her with something big.

  9

  Paris

  Vanessa flopped down into the comfy couch of their hotel suite with a smile, gazing out at the early afternoon. The wrought iron railing lining their balcony was just too picture perfect. They’d been walking the city all morning, seeing everything from the Eiffel Tower to the Arc de Triomphe, but just the view from their sitting room was enough to make her heart break.

  Everything in this city was romantic, perfect, and picturesque. Amad came into the suite a moment later, dropping the bags from their latest shopping excursion. Ninety percent of the purchases were his idea, despite stern warnings that Vanessa didn’t need anything and really thought it was too much. But he’d bought it all anyway—cashmere shawls, outrageous earrings, and silk blouses that Amad insisted she add to her wardrobe.

  It was hard to say no, but she managed to. Not that it did any good.

  “You feeling okay?” Amad kissed the top of her head as he walked by, fiddling with his watch. “I can go grab dinner for us later if you’re not feeling up to going out again.”

  “I think I’m fine,” Vanessa said, stretching out on the couch. Her morning sickness was still lurking, but the fascination of this gorgeous city thankfully helped stymie it slightly. “Just a little rest and then I’ll be good to go.”

  “Excellent.”

  A soft knock sounded at the door, and Amad breezed over to answer it. She overheard him conversing quietly with the person at the door in French. The door shut a moment later, and he came into the sitting room holding a large black bag.

  “What’s this, Amad?” she asked, unable to hide the suspicion in her voice.

  “One more present,” he said with a devilish grin, setting the huge bag on the coffee table. “Or should I say presents?”

  She sighed, shaking her head. “Babe, this is enough already! I don’t need all of this—”

  “But they’re gifts. I don’t understand why you can’t accept them.” He tugged out thin, flat boxes from the bag, handing them to her one by one. A flicker of curiosity licked through her, and the eagerness on Amad’s face made her hesitant to put her foot down the way she wanted. She didn’t understand why it was so hard for him to get that these things were just…things. Unnecessary. Lavish. Extraneous.

  “Well, let’s see here,” she murmured, tugging off the top of the box. Soft tweed greeted her; she tugged the fabric out, revealing a pair of designer dress pants.

  “Wow,” she said, blinking as she checked it out. There was no price tag, of course. These things were too expensive for commonplace concerns like prices. “Babe, this is…gorgeous.” She sighed, setting the pants back in the box. “But I won’t even be able to wear these in a few weeks. You know, some maternity clothes would be the practical choice.”

  “But you can wear them now,” Amad said, grinning. “Won’t you try them on? Please? I’ve had such a hard-on imagining you in these clothes. Do your poor husband a favor. Model the clothes.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh as she dragged the clothes to the bedroom to change. “Fine. But only because you’ve got a hard-on and I don’t want you to suffer,” she said before sliding the partition door shut.

  She heard Amad cackling in the other room as she shrugged on the silky ivory blouse and the tweed dress pants. Honestly, the ensemble was amazing. Paired with her muted makeup palate and her wavy blowout, she felt every inch a sexy entrepreneur. Which was what she wanted for herself. To earn a place in the family business.

  When she walked into the sitting room a moment later, Amad’s jaw made a slow trek to the floor. He gave a low whistle.

  “Be still my beating heart,” he whispered.

  She tucked some hair behind her ear, then struck a few poses, hooking her thumbs in the tiny belt loops of the pants. “These clothes are amazing.”

  “But you’re missing one thing,” he said, walking toward her.

  “Shoes? I have heels I’ll put on.”

  He shook his head. “Something else.”

  “Um…” She blinked. “A modeling contract?”

  His devilish grin spread ear to ear. He pulled out a long black box from his pocket, handing it to her. “You’re missing this.”

  She bit at her bottom lip, searching his face as she held the slim jeweler’s box. Another gift? The man needed an intervention. “Amad—” she started.

  “Just open it.”

  She nodded, forcing it open. A delicate diamond necklace lay inside. She couldn’t help but squeak with appreciation as she ran her finger over the fragile strand of gold. When she looked up at Amad, adoration shone on his face.

  “Please, babe, let’s put it on.”

  She didn’t have the heart to say no when he was looking at her like that. She swallowed hard, gently removing the necklace from its bed.

  “This is too much, you know,” she said as she handed the necklace to him.

  “It’s not too much. It’s actually less than what I wanted to get you, because I knew you’d say that.” His breath came out in hot puffs at the back of her neck as he arranged the necklace and clasped it. “Let’s consider this a compromise.”

  His attempt to smooth it over failed. Miserably. As she admired the necklace in the mirror—it looked stunning, of course—all she could think about was the tally of how much these things cost. How much he’d spent on her in one day. It was absurd. Sickening. She’d done nothing to deserve this. And she needed to even the scales.

  “Come here,” she said softly, tugging at his hand. She led him into the bedroom, dressed in the tweed pants and the silky blouse and the diamond necklace that probably could pay her rent back home for two years. “You’re too good to me, babe. I need to be good to you.”

  She pushed at his chest so that he sat back on the bed. His smile faded as she got to her knees, pushing open his legs.

  “What are you doing, Vanessa?”

  The sharp undertone of his voice made her pause. She’d wanted this to be sexy, not a moral lesson.

  “I want to make you feel good,” she claimed, running her palms up along the hard arc of his thighs.

  “Because I bought you some presents?” he asked, arching a brow.

  “Yes.” She tugged at his belt, fiddling with the zipper so she could start playing with his cock. Give him the blowjob of his dreams. Then maybe the scales would be slightly more balanced.

  “Babe.” He rested his hands on her shoulders, stilling her just as her hand broke through the fly of his pants and she’d started fishing for his cock. “You don’t need to earn these gifts with sex.”

  Vanessa reeled back, trying to find the best response to bat away the suggestion. But she couldn’t. Because that’s exactly what she’d been doing. Being called out on it stung a little bit…mostly because it reminded her of her mother.

  This was exactly something that her mother would have done, would have counseled her to do. And here she was, following in her footsteps even while actively trying not to.

  “I just—”

  “You’ve earned everything just simply by being with me,” Amad said softly, urging her to standing. He guided her back until she was the one lying on the bed. He lifted her blouse slightly, running his lips along the tiny swell of her belly. “This little love child of ours is the greatest gift you could give me.”

  She huffed, balling her fists at her side. Everything inside her fought against this. His generosity without strings attached. The idea that this wouldn’t come back to bite her in the ass somehow, someday. She’d been taught her whole life that it wouldn’t—couldn’t—be this way.

  But some of her resistance melted once Amad’s thick, sure fingers undid the button of her pants and slowly tugged them down her legs. Once he’d removed the soft material and tossed it aside, he buried his face between her legs. He ran his thumb back and forth across the crotch of her panties, moaning low.

  “You’re wet again,” he said.

  “Well, of course. I live with you. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

  Amad’s toothy grin stole her breath. It was so easy to fall for him, again and again, day after day. Between his sweetness, his tenderness, and his heart-stopping good looks, she couldn’t have picked a better fly-by-night husband.

  “You flatter me,” he murmured, nuzzling against her thigh. “But you’re only saying that because my lips are an inch away from the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

  She snorted, but the laughter faded once he pushed aside the crotch of her panties and dipped his fingers inside. She melted back onto the bed, breaths growing heavier once he worked her throbbing clit between his thumb and forefinger.

  He eased himself in and out of her pussy. His gaze sizzled on her as he watched her reactions, studying her, analyzing her ascent to pleasure. The attention shivered through her, pushed her closer to the edge. She loved being observed by him, gobbled up by him.

  Amad sat back and tugged the panties down, ripping them off her before diving back between her legs. His tongue found the tight peak of her clit, and he wasted no time before suckling and prodding her, damp and intense and relentless. His fingers continued their sure, even thrusts inside her. She arched her back, inviting him deeper, mouth hung open as she twisted and writhed against his movements.

  “Ohhhh, Amad,” she squeaked, pinching her eyes shut. The orgasm was coming. It was so close.

  He mumbled something from between her legs and then pulled his fingers out. He pressed his tongue inside her, slurping up her juices, then gave a satisfied grunt. “God, you’re delicious.”

  She couldn’t even speak, just tightened her thighs around his head, urging him to continue. She tugged at the tightly cropped black hair, mussing up the slight wave he usually prided himself on, and bucked against his face.

  “Easy, girl,” he cracked, drilling his fingers in deep. He left them there, looking up at her with a shiny face and a haze of contentment in his eyes. “I’ll get you there. I promise.”

  She groaned. “Amaaad.”

  He sucked at his teeth, curling his fingers inside her, then teased his lips around her swollen clit. Vanessa arched against him, needing his lips around her harder and faster. He flicked his tongue against her, prompting another groan.

  “Come on,” she said sharply.

  He laughed, nuzzling her inner thigh. “I like it when you get testy.”

  “Real funny.”

  He ran his teeth against her clit, and she gasped. Then he flattened his tongue against the swollen nub, starting a slow, intense roll that brought her skyrocketing to climax.

  All she could do was grip his shoulders and scream. The pleasure ballooned and exploded in hot, unrelenting waves that coated her from head to toe and made her temporarily blind. Everything was bright white behind her eyelids, followed by fireworks and heat, and then the sticky sensation of ahhhhh.

  When she could finally open her eyes, Amad had his chin propped on her inner thigh, wearing a smirk like he held all the secrets in the world.

  10

  The next day, Vanessa buzzed with anticipation and purpose from the second she woke up. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was related to that earth-shattering orgasm from the day before. Or maybe she was just jazzed about finally being involved with the fashion business.

  Their plan was to attend a fashion show and then linger at the after-party to see which contacts Amad could tease out. Vanessa was more than happy to tag along—just witnessing real Parisian fashion in action was thrilling all on its own—but she also wanted to see how much she could help.

  Calla had made it clear that Vanessa could have a place in the company, and Vanessa wanted to prove that she could carve it out on her own. She was determined to make something happen today, even if it was just a small step in the right direction. All those years of high-end boutique management would be put to good use here in Paris, she was sure of it.

  The fashion show itself came and went in a gorgeous blur. Vanessa tried to take pictures, but they mostly came out crappy due to the low lighting and the breakneck speed of the models. She could tell that Amad wasn’t totally invested—not the way she was, at least—and checked his phone way too often. But it was fine—clothes weren’t his thing, no matter how much he liked to play dress up on her.

  It was the after-party where she could really tell that Amad was out of his element. He was a good negotiator and smooth as all get out. But he wanted to make a deal now. He had an energy that demanded results, and Vanessa wasn’t sure how to tell him to lay off.

  She decided to nurse a cranberry juice at the bar while he hunted contacts. The fashion world demanded a certain finesse. It was primarily egos and divas, which meant talking things out and using tons of flattery. Amad was good at flattering her, but did he know how much he’d need to flatter his future business partners?

  She got out her phone as ideas started coming to her; “Consulting Points,” she titled the note, jotting down all the things that cropped up as she thought back on her buying days for the boutique. All the things she’d overheard, the anecdotes. This would help Amad; it would help the business. He’d have to be open to that.

  After a while, a lady sat down next to Vanessa. She glanced over, recognizing the newcomer from the fashion show. She offered a smile. The blonde had gray at the temples and a smart, elegant bun pulled tight against her head. A plaid dress coat hung off her shoulders, and high-waisted dress pants were complemented with a very skinny belt.