Kiss of Ice (St. James Family) by Lavender Parker Read Free Book Online

he would have forced his way inside her life. He wouldn't have let her push him away. Instead, he'd walked away when she rejected him, all those years ago. He convinced himself it wasn't meant to be and there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn't fought for her.
    But it didn't matter how many girls Christophe slept with, in how many different countries, or how many different ways. There was no one that held a candle to Annie. No one that made him feel as alive as he did when he was with her.  She made him angry; she challenged him. Truth be told, she could be a total bitch. But he was tired of everybody smiling at him, laughing at his jokes, and telling him what he wanted to hear. Annie would never do that. She would slap and push him away before she would smile at him. She didn't want his money. In fact, she loathed that he came from money. To her, it was despicable to not fight and struggle for every inch you gained.
    He lifted the armrest that separated them and slid closer to her. Jostled,  she moaned and opened her eyes. She tucked her feet under her in the seat and settled against him, her head dropping against his thigh. He slipped a strand of black hair behind her ear. His finger strayed lower and he traced the line of her jaw. With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes again.
    He settled back in his chair, finally able to relax. It didn't matter that they would only be in Paris for three days. He would make the time count. He wanted her. It was his mission to get her want him in return. What better place to melt her coldness toward him than in the most romantic city in the world?  A smile slipped across his lips. For the first time in his life, he was going to fight. And he was going to enjoy every minute of it.
     

 
    Chapter 6
     
    Annata and Christophe stepped together into the elevator at International Paris. They both leaned forward to press the button for floor 30. He got there first, and the button lit up in red. The elevator doors closed and they began ascending. Annata drew back first and unbuttoned her coat. Christophe rubbed his eyes, looking bone-tired. She  wondered how much sleep he got on the plane. “We should have stopped for more coffee. You look like you need some.”
    “ Thanks.” He grumbled, sarcastically. “Jet lag is a bitch.” He sighed. She busied herself taking off her gloves. Then she reached up to smooth his necktie.
    “ The tie is overkill.”
    “ You think so?”
    “ This is Paris, not Rome.” She tightened his Windsor knot and patted his chest. “But you look smart.”
    “ And tired as hell.” He smiled down at her.
    “ Men can look tired. Women can't.” She dug into her purse and unearthed a tube of lipstick. She applied the mauve shade expertly in the her reflection in the brass door of the elevator. She smoothed her lips together, spreading the creamy lipstick evenly. She stole another glance of him in the reflection of brass door. Her thoughts drifted back to waking on the plane earlier. A swath of orange sunlight beamed through the windows as she sat up and realized he was next to her. When he rolled his head to look at her, the sunlight illuminated his blue eyes in an unearthly, ethereal way. Her heart had stopped in her chest. He was beautiful.
    His eyes caught hers staring at him in the reflection. She cleared her throat and dropped her lipstick back into her bag. She turned her eyes upward as they passed the 28 th floor. “My French is a little rusty,” she announced.
    He shrugged and stepped close behind her. “Don't worry. It's like riding a bike,” he said, close to her ear. Her stomach did a flip-flop as the elevator slowed at the 30 th floor. She savored the last few seconds of peace and quiet. If she was truthful with herself, she also savored being alone with Christophe. She was glad he was with her in Paris. Her eyes found his again in their reflection on the door.  Then, with a loud ding, the doors opened to chaos.
     
    ***
     
    The elevator