BROCK

Jade is showered, dressed and ready for her big day with Pierre before I even wake. I can tell she is filled with a mix of excitement and nerves.

We’d arrived in Paris at some ungodly hour in the morning the previous day. It was a long flight with a five-hour layover in Dubai, and we had no plans for the rest of the day, so we spent it in bed.

After I shower, I return to the bedroom wrapped in a towel. Dropping my towel, I smile to myself as I watch her eyes rake over my body from the edge of the bed where she’s sitting. After sliding into a pair of jeans, I stalk towards her, pulling her off the bed and into my arms.

‘I can’t believe I’m in Paris with you,’ Jade whispers as she snuggles into my chest.

‘There’s no other person I’d rather be in the City of Love with,’ I reply, kissing the top of her head. ‘I plan on travelling the entire world with you. This is just the beginning, we have our whole lives ahead of us.’

We’re going to stay on in Paris for a few days after Jade’s class before flying home. I would’ve liked to stay longer, but it’s a busy time for my company at the moment. Things are going ahead full steam. I no longer have my father breathing down my neck, so I can make decisions without fear of retribution or backlash from him. He was old school and wasn’t comfortable taking risks. On the other hand, I thrive on shit like that. My vision is finally being realised. Within the next few years, I plan to make Weston Global the number one security firm in the world.

‘You’re awfully quiet,’ I say. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘I’m just nervous,’ she replies. ‘What if I stuff things up and look like a fool?’

She has nothing to be nervous about; she has a natural talent for cooking, so I’m sure she’ll impress. Placing my finger under her chin, I raise her face to meet mine. ‘Impossible. You’ve got this in the bag, sweetheart. You may even show him a thing or two.’

‘That’s very sweet of you to say, but I highly doubt it,’ she says, laughing.

‘Don’t underestimate your talents. I’ve eaten at some of the finest Michelin-starred restaurants in the world. Your cooking rivals the best, and I’m not just saying that to get in your pants.’

‘You have a permanent invitation to my pants, Mr Weston,’ she says, placing a soft kiss over my heart.

‘I’m glad to hear that.’ I move my hands down to squeeze her incredible arse. ‘Now let me get dressed before I do something that’s going to make you late.’

Smiling, she releases me and takes a step back. ‘I left a mark on you. Let me get a tissue to wipe it off.’

Looking down, I see the red imprint left by her lipstick. It’s sitting right over my heart. ‘No, leave it. I like being marked by you. Last time you did that, I didn’t want to wash it off.’ I wish I could leave it there permanently.

*

JADE

Brock’s confidence in my ability gave me the pick-me-up I needed. Though I’ll admit I’m a little starstruck when we meet Pierre, I’m completely taken aback when Brock drapes his arm around me and introduces me as his girlfriend instead of Jade, and then proceeds to give me a scorching hot, toe-curling kiss right in front of Pierre. I get the impression he’s uneasy about me spending the day with another man, so I quickly forgive him for his little performance. I never would’ve picked him for the insecure type. Pierre is short, plump and middle-aged, so I find Brock’s actions ridiculous, but adorably sweet at the same time. He has no need to worry. Even if Pierre were young and gorgeous, nobody could ever come close to Brock. He’s everything I’ll ever want.

My day flies, and I am genuinely sad when it is over. It’s the most amazing experience—so much more than I could’ve imagined. In the six hours I’m with Pierre, I learn so much. Being a fourth-generation pastry chef, you could say it’s in his blood. He shares a lot of industry secrets as well as the one behind his world famous macarons. It’s nice to spend time with someone as passionate about food as I am.

His English is good, but I speak fluent French. I’d learnt to speak a few foreign languages at the private schools M had me attend growing up, including Italian and German. Pierre tells me he’s impressed with my culinary skills, and compliments me a number of times throughout the day. He even goes so far to say he wouldn’t hesitate to hire me to work in one of his restaurants. It’s a huge compliment and I’m pretty sure I smiled like a fool when he said that, but my home is in Australia with Brock. I’m keen to start my own business when I return. Nothing flashy, just something small that I can call my own. Something worlds away from my previous profession.

When I tell him of my plans, Pierre promises to look me up if he ever comes to Australia. It’s kind of him to say, but it will probably never happen. I’d probably keel over and die if he ever walked into my restaurant.

I find Brock waiting across the street when I exit Pierre’s building. His long, lean, sexy-as-hell body is resting up against the convertible sports car we hired at the airport. His legs are crossed at the ankles and his arms are folded over his strong chest. A beautiful smile spreads across his face when he notices me walking towards him. The sight of him sends my heart into a flutter.

‘How was it?’ he asks when I approach.

‘One word: amazing.’ I pass him the white box that’s filled with all the delicious treats I made, and watch as he leans over and places it on the back seat of the car before pulling me into his arms.

‘I’m glad,’ he says, pressing his lips to mine. My body melts into his. Nothing else seems to exist when we’re together like this. He has the power to stop my world from spinning. Like we’re the only two people on this planet. ‘I missed you today,’ he whispers against my mouth.

‘Me too,’ I reply, before drawing back. ‘How was your day?’

‘Interesting.’ His smirk tells me he’s been up to something, but he doesn’t elaborate, so of course I have to ask.

‘What did you do?’

‘Stuff.’ He chuckles, letting go of me and opening the passenger side door.

‘What kind of stuff?’ I ask, my brow furrowing as I seat myself in the car.

‘You’ll find out soon enough,’ is all he says, leaning down to kiss the top of my head before closing the door. Ugh! Why is he being so vague?

‘So, are you going to tell me what you did today?’ I ask once we’re seated in the restaurant where we’re having dinner. I’m dying to know what he’s been up to.

‘Of course,’ he says, trying to suppress his smile.

When he doesn’t continue, I raise my eyebrow. ‘Well?’

‘I promise all will be revealed before the night’s out.’ When he picks up his menu and holds it in front of his face, I swear I want to reach over the table and smack him.

Sighing, I pick up my menu as well. I hate secrets, and surprises scare me. I’m not a fan of the unknown. That’s what I’ve faced my whole life. I’ve learnt firsthand how horrible the unknown can be. Past experience tells me good things never last, but that’s my insecurity rearing its ugly head again. I want us to last more than anything I’ve ever wished for in my life, and believe me when I say the younger Jade wished for so much. So, so much.

We’re quiet during dinner, apart from the few questions Brock asks me about my time with Pierre. I grow agitated. I know he wouldn’t do anything bad to me, but I’m concerned as to why he won’t tell me about his day. He’s quiet and a little withdrawn.

‘Are you wearing your locket?’ he asks suddenly, as we wait for the waiter to bring our bill.

‘Yes, of course,’ I reply, pulling it from underneath my top to show him. He smiles before reaching into his pocket.

‘I have a few more charms for you to add.’

My hands tremble slightly as I unwrap the small piece of tissue paper he places in front of me. My smile grows when I find a tiny Eiffel Tower charm inside.

‘You’re taking me to the Eiffel Tower?’ I’ve been to Paris many times and I’ve seen the tower from ground level, but I’ve never been up to the top. When I came with M, touristy things weren’t allowed. When I was older and came alone, it’s something I never wanted to do on my own.

‘Yes.’

‘Can we travel to the top?’ I can hear the excitement in my voice as I speak.

‘You better believe it,’ he says.

I give his hand a squeeze across the table. Removing the necklace from around my neck, I carefully open the glass locket and store the little tower inside with my cake, plane and love charms. Excitement ignites inside me, and all my insecurities seem to vanish.

‘Thank you,’ I say as my eyes meet his.

‘Before you close it, I have one more charm.’ This time he reaches into a different pocket.

I laugh when I see a tiny red high heel inside the tissue paper. ‘It’s so cute.’

‘Well, that’s not really a memory for you. It’s more for me,’ he says with a chuckle. ‘You were wearing those sexy red shoes the day we met. I fucking love those shoes.’

*

When we arrive at the base of the tower after dinner, we join the end of the long queue to ride the lift to the top. It looks like we’re in for a bit of a wait, but I’m okay with that. It will be worth it.

Ten minutes pass and the line hardly moves. I’m personally not bothered by this, but the way Brock keeps looking at his watch tells me he is.

A short time later, he says, ‘I’ll be back in a second.’ He doesn’t even give me the chance to ask him where he’s going.

When he returns, he reaches for my hand. ‘Come,’ he says, tugging gently on my arm.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Up to the top.’

‘But, the line—’

‘It’s all sorted.’

‘I’m not pushing in, Brock. These people have been waiting too.’ I pull on his hand, trying to stop him, but to no avail. He’s on a mission. Not only do we move to the front of the line, but it appears we’re riding up on our own.

‘They’re on their way up,’ I hear the staff member say into his handheld radio in French.

‘I feel awful for pushing in,’ I say when the doors close. ‘Did you pay them, or something?’

‘Or something,’ Brock replies.

I give him a sceptical look. Something fishy is going on here. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he finally looks at me. He doesn’t say a word, but his face says everything. He looks extremely anxious and that makes my stomach churn for some reason.

‘What’s going on, Brock?’ My arms reach for him as I take a step in his direction.

‘Just give me a second okay?’ he says. When he holds up his hand and retreats a step, I let my arms drop to my side.

‘Are you afraid of heights?’ That’s the only rational explanation for his sudden mood change.

‘No,’ he replies with a nervous chuckle. ‘I just didn’t think this would be so hard.’

‘Didn’t think what would be so hard?’ My brow furrows.

Before he gets a chance to reply, we’re interrupted by an announcement asking us to exit on the second floor before taking another lift to the top. The doors open and I give him a puzzled look as he places his hand on the small of my back.

‘Monsieur et madame, de cette manière s’il vous plaît,’ a man says, smiling pleasantly.

‘Why does he want us to follow him?’ I ask as my hand latches around Brock’s elbow.

‘He’s taking us to the lift that will take us up to the top of the tower.’

For a minute I thought—I don’t know what I thought, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. I guess Brock weirding out on the way up has put me on edge. But I hope bungee jumping off the Eiffel Tower is illegal, that’s all I’m saying.

The moment we step into the other lift, Brock goes all weird again, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. It makes my stomach churn. He’s never acted this way with me before.

‘We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,’ I whisper. I’m grasping at straws, trying to find out what’s going on inside his head, all the while hoping to God it has something to do with heights or confined spaces, and nothing to do with us or our relationship.

‘Do what?’ he asks as he stops pacing and turns to face me.

‘Go to the top.’

‘But I want to go to the top. Why would you think I didn’t?’

‘Because you’re acting distant and weird.’ There’s no point in lying.

‘Am I?’ he asks. His eyes lock with mine as he exhales a large breath. Quickly closing the distance between us, he wraps me in his arms. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise it was so obvious.’ Like that statement is going to ease my mind. Not. It doesn’t explain a damn thing.

Brock reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together when the lift arrives at the top of the tower. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.

Even though the lift we travelled in was glass, I didn’t get a chance to admire the view on the journey up since I was preoccupied by Brock’s mood swing. So, the moment we step onto the landing, I gasp. It’s breathtaking. ‘Wow.’

Heading straight for the edge, I let go of Brock’s hand and my fingers curve around the wire cage. I take a few minutes to absorb the view before turning my attention back to him. He’s standing beside me, hands in his pockets, but instead of looking at what’s before us, he’s staring at me.

‘I love you,’ he says as he smiles.

‘I love you too,’ I reply, slipping my arms around his waist. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

Raising his hand, he tenderly strokes my face. ‘I’m with you, so I’m perfect.’

His sweet words fill me with joy. Yay! My Brock is back.

He briefly places his lips against mine, before taking a step backwards. Digging his fingers into his pocket, he pulls out another small fold of tissue paper. ‘Another memory for your locket,’ he says, placing it in my palm. ‘I hope you like it.’

He already gave me the Eiffel Tower charm at dinner, so I can’t imagine what this one will be. Maybe it’s something to symbolise our next journey. Carefully unwrapping the paper, my eyes widen and my mouth gapes when I see what’s inside. It’s a ring. A teeny-tiny ring charm with a stone set into the top. Is it? Could it be? I’m scared to ask in case I’m wrong.

The moment Brock gets down on one knee before me I know I’m right. Oh. My. God. My heart starts to beat out of my chest as tears fill my eyes.

‘Jade,’ he says, reaching for my hand and clearing his throat. I can feel his fingers slightly trembling as they wrap around mine. Now I know why he’s been acting so weird.

There’s people all around us, but I don’t care. I want to hear him say it. I want to hear the words that I never thought I’d hear.

‘From the moment you crashed into me at the airport and gave me a big chocolatey grin, you’ve captivated my heart.’ I feel my face flush at the mention of the chocolate on my teeth. ‘The more I got to know you, the more I realised that you were it—the part that’s been missing from my life. You complete me, sweetheart, and I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You make me happier than I thought I could ever be. I don’t want to ever lose that feeling, and what we share. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife, so I can make you mine forever?’

I don’t even need to think about this. There’s no one else I’d rather spend my life with. ‘Yes,’ I blurt out, pulling him to his feet and leaping into his arms. ‘Yes … yes … yes,’ I repeat as I rain tiny kisses all over his face. Tears of joy cascade down my cheeks.

‘Thank fuck you said yes,’ he says into the crook of my neck as his arms tighten around me. ‘I was worried you were going to turn me down.’

Is he kidding? Why wouldn’t I want to marry him? He’s the man of my dreams, and has so much to offer. I on the other hand, am just me. Plain old Jade Davis, the orphan—the kid nobody wanted—the hooker. The person who, until he came along, was sure she was unlovable. He could have anyone he wanted, but thankfully he wants me.

*

I feel like I’m floating when we arrive back at the hotel. I want to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. After Brock produced the engagement ring from his pocket and slid it on my finger and we received a round of applause from the onlookers, we headed back down to watch the incredible light show. The Eiffel Tower on its own is a magnificent structure, but when it’s lit up—no words can describe how beautiful it looks. There’s something magical about this place, but I never felt it until I came here with Brock.

When we enter our room, there’s another surprise awaiting me. Brock organised for the hotel staff to line our bedroom with candles. There’s a bottle of champagne sitting on ice beside the bed, and red rose petals sprinkled all over the white bedsheets.

‘Brock,’ I whisper as my eyes take it all in.

‘I wanted to give my future wife something special to come home too.’

I love the sound of that. His future wife. Mrs Jade Weston.

‘What if I’d said no?’ I joke as he pulls me into his arms.

‘I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. I need you in my life, Jade. I have no intentions of letting you go.’

‘There’s no place I’d rather be,’ I say as my lips brush against his. ‘Thank you for wanting me when no one else did.’

‘Oh, sweetheart. I’ll always want you. You’re my life now. You mean everything to me.’

‘When we’re married, you’ll officially be my family. I never thought I’d have that.’

‘Always,’ he says, kissing the top of my head. ‘Have you ever tried to find your father?’

‘No. I’m scared he still won’t want me.’ As far as I know, he’s never tried to find me. That in itself says a lot.

‘If it’s something you ever decided to do, I can help you. I have the best investigators in the field working for me.’

‘I’ll think about it.’ Who am I kidding? It’s practically all I think about. Finding the man who abandoned me has consumed me for years. There’s a part of me that wants to know, and a part that doesn’t. I’d love to meet my father and find out why he gave me up. But then there’s that old saying: what you don’t know can’t hurt you. That’s what’s holding me back: I’m tired of hurting.

‘We can talk about this another time,’ he says, cupping my face. ‘Tonight we celebrate.’

‘Okay. Do you mind if I have a quick shower first?’

‘Of course not. I’ll pour us a glass of champagne while I wait.’

After pulling me in for a scorching hot kiss, he releases me and walks toward the bed. I quickly grab what I need before ducking into the bathroom.

Emerging a short time later, I find Brock sitting at the foot of the bed. His arms are positioned behind him, taking his body weight. His long legs are extended out in front of him and are crossed at the ankle. He’s unbuttoned his shirt, and I can see a hint of his toned and tanned chest. There’s a sexy smile on his lips and a glint of what’s yet to come in his eyes. It makes my pulse quicken.

His gaze leaves mine and slowly travels down my body. He was wrong about the red shoes being his memory, because they’re about to become our memory. He told me once that he’d like to see me wearing nothing but these shoes.

Wish granted.

A smile explodes onto his face when he gets to my feet. ‘Fuck me,’ he gasps. ‘My favourite shoes.’

He goes to stand. I immediately hold my hand out to stop him. I’m nervous, but I want to do something I used to do for some of my clients. I know how much they loved it, and I’m hoping he does too. I want to share every part of me with him.

His eyes widen as one of my hands glide over my torso and settles between my legs. My other hand moves up to caress my breasts. I close my eyes and tilt my head back and moan as my fingers slowly circle my clit and I pinch my nipple with my other hand.

‘Sweet Jesus,’ he whispers, as my eyes open and lock with his. My gaze moves down to his waist when I hear the sound of a zipper. I moan again when I see him free his impressive, hard length and slowly stroke it. Now I know why my clients like it so much. Seeing him pleasure himself is hot.

It only takes a few minutes for me to come undone. Having him watch me turns me on. I never felt anything other than disgust when I did this for the others. I try to keep my eyes on him as my body starts to tremble and the ecstasy courses through me, but I can’t. My head tilts back as a long, drawnout sound escapes me.

Before I get a chance to open my eyes, Brock’s in front of me, lifting me off the ground. My back is roughly pushed into the wall, as his lips crash into mine.

‘That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. How did I get so lucky?’ he groans into my mouth, as he hoists my legs around his waist, impaling me in one swift motion.

*

Our vacation comes to an end way too fast, but I’ve enjoyed every second. I came here with my lover and I’m leaving with my fiancé. I still can’t believe I’m going to be married to the man of my dreams. Could my life get any better?

Looking down at the beautiful heart shaped diamond ring on my finger, I can’t help but smile. My other hand clutches the locket around my neck that contains all my memories of Paris. This morning, Brock gave me a red lip charm. I’ll never forget the magical time we spent here.

After my little show last night, and him taking me up against the wall, he revealed a red lip tattoo he had gotten while I was with Pierre. It sits right over his heart, right where I kissed him that morning. ‘Now I have your mark on me permanently,’ he’d said.

Sadness washes over me when the announcement comes saying we can board the plane. I know we have a lifetime of beautiful memories ahead of us, but I’m not ready to go home yet. There’s no pressure here. No worries. None of life’s troubles. Just us, and sheer bliss.

Before we board the plane, Brock hands me another tiny piece of tissue paper, and I’m immediately smiling.

‘This is the last charm I’ll be giving you on this trip,’ he says. ‘To me it’s the most important one of all.’

I can’t imagine anything more important than the tiny ring charm he gave me just before he proposed. Every charm is special, but that will forever be my favourite. The night he asked me to marry him is a night I’ll never forget.

Eagerly, I unwrap the paper to find a tiny red jewel inside. It’s been carved into the shape of a heart.

His expression suddenly turns serious as he shoves his hands nervously into his pockets. His vulnerable side is emerging and it puzzles me. The moment he speaks I understand why.

‘You’re the first person I’ve ever given my heart to, Jade, please look after it.’

‘Oh Brock,’ I whisper. He has no need to worry about that. I’ll treasure his heart for as long as it belongs to me. Clutching the charm to my chest, my watery eyes lock with his. ‘I promise.’