The Domville 7 (The Domville #7) (3 page)

Nadja

Thursday
Night

I ran around our suite like an excited kid on
Christmas morning, albeit a few weeks early, bouncing on the plush and
incredibly soft mattress before bounding into the luxurious bathroom, with
Devon laughing at me. I’d stayed in some nice hotels with him before, but
nothing like this. The Domville was in a completely different class. His
business was doing so well that he could afford swanky places like this now.

‘I take it you’re happy then?’ Devon called as I tested
out the smooth, egg-shaped, Italian-stone bath. I could just imagine us in here
later, loads of bubbles, some champagne and chocolate, definitely some sex. I
leapt out and ran to where he was standing in the lounge, jumped up onto his
hips, and flung my arms around his neck.

‘It’s amazing, you’ve spoiled me so much. Thank you,
thank you, thank you,’ I uttered between kisses on his firm, yet deliciously
soft and sensual, lips.

‘You’re welcome, babe. So, how about we head out for
something to eat, then come back and make the most of that bed over there,’ he
replied, kissing me back.

‘Sounds perfect,’ I confirmed, smiling to myself at the
thought of the surprise I had for him. ‘Are we actually going to see any of
Paris this weekend?’

‘We are,’ he grinned, kissing the tip of my nose. ‘I’ve
got a list of things to do, but don’t worry, I’ve still left plenty of time for
sex.’

‘Excellent,’ I beamed.

We headed out to a fresh and crisp December evening,
Devon looking delectable in a dark grey suit with a white shirt and highly
polished black shoes. I smiled as he held my hand while we waited for the taxi
to leave the line and come to where the doorman had gestured in front of us.
Devon really was a great-looking guy with an impressive physique, which was
only reaffirmed as a group of young girls heading out for the night giggled and
cast looks over their shoulders at him.

‘No need to be jealous, babe,’ he whispered in my ear as
he gently pressed my lower back, encouraging me to step forwards to the taxi
that had just pulled up.  ‘These Frenchmen can’t take their eyes off you in
that dress, and neither can I.’

‘Wait until you see my change of outfit later then,’ I
giggled, trying to climb in and protect my modesty. I was in a red bandeau
dress, with a wide red belt and short flared-out skirt that showed off my long
legs. A pair of high, strappy red heels and a red and black clutch completed my
look, along with my hair in a sleek high ponytail. I was wearing some black
ruffled boy shorts, Devon’s favourite. He’d already had his hand up the back of
my skirt, caressing my backside on the way down in the lift, and had grunted his
approval. He was a very easy man to please, though I was regretting rebuffing
his insistence that I needed a coat.

‘Is this new outfit better than ruffles?’ he grinned as
he climbed into the taxi next to me.

‘Ruffles could still feature, if you want them to.’

‘I’m beginning to rethink the whole “let’s go out for
dinner instead of staying in to have sex” plan,’ he murmured as he leaned in to
kiss and nibble my neck, making my eyes roll and my body go limp.

‘Me too,’ I sighed, tipping my head to let him kiss me
some more. He pulled away when the taxi driver politely coughed and asked where
we wanted to go. ‘The Eiffel Tower?’ I gasped when Devon had instructed him.

‘Don’t tell me after two years together, I had no idea
that you’re scared of heights?’ he laughed.

‘No, not at all. I’ve just always wanted to go up there.
We’re eating there, too?’

‘We are,’ he confirmed, picking up my hand and kissing
it. ‘Two years is a record for both of us, I thought we should celebrate in
style.’

I smiled and nodded, then gulped as I turned my head to
look out of the window as we headed over one of the beautifully lit bridges and
my stomach sank. This whole weekend screamed of romance, and I was so nervous
that he was going to propose. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. Getting
engaged was serious. I didn’t understand people who got engaged and five years
later still hadn’t set a wedding date. In my eyes, you got engaged and were
married within a year, at most. And I didn’t feel ready for marriage yet.

When we were dropped off at the Eiffel Tower, I gazed up
at it in awe. It was so much larger than I’d imagined. Devon held my hand as we
headed up in the lift, watching the city sparkling below us in the dark. I
couldn’t stop staring as we headed up to the top, to the open-air viewing
platform. It was a magical view. I shivered as the breeze skimmed over my bare
arms and Devon quickly slipped off his suit jacket and put it over my
shoulders.

‘I’ll go and get us some champagne,’ he advised, kissing my
temple. I smiled at him and watched him head to the
Bar A Champagne
, pulling
his jacket tightly around me. A lump formed in my throat and my stomach twisted
in nervous knots when I felt something hard in his inner jacket pocket. I
slipped my hand inside and nearly passed out when I extracted a small velvet
box with Havershams’ name on it, one of the most prestigious and exclusive
jewellery firms in the world.

‘No, no, no,’ I groaned as I stood there holding it, sure
my eyes were wide with horror. I quickly glanced over my shoulder to make sure
he wasn’t in sight, then looked back at the box and bit my lower lip. It was
just some nice jewellery, like a pair of earrings, that was all. No way would
he be proposing. But what if he was? I needed to be prepared. How did you turn
down a proposal in a way that didn’t hurt your guy’s feelings and make him
think that you didn’t love him? I took a deep breath, knowing what I was doing
was wrong, but I had to know. I quickly pulled the box open and felt my stomach
drop all one-hundred and eighty metres to the ground to see an oval diamond on
a white gold band. My eyes burned with tears that I wouldn’t allow myself to
shed. It was a stunning ring, so me, just the type of ring I’d have chosen, but
I wasn’t ready. I quickly snapped the box shut and shoved it back in his jacket
pocket. Crap! I needed Tanya, I needed to speak to her, to get her advice.

‘Here you go, babe,’ came Devon’s voice. I forced a smile
as I turned to face him and he offered me the glass of bubbly. He immediately
frowned. ‘Are you ok? You look really pale?’

‘I’m fine,’ I lied. ‘Just a little lightheaded from
looking down and realising how high up we are.’

‘You’d be no good up on a roof with me, would you?’ he
laughed. ‘Come on, let’s move to the indoor section, you can keep away from the
edge and get warm. You look perished. This was a bad idea.’

‘It wasn’t, I promise. It’s beautiful, I’m so happy we
came. I’m really looking forward to our meal as well.’

‘Me too. I’m that hungry I could eat a horse, and from
what I hear, that’s a real possibility over here.’

‘No, really?’ I exclaimed, grateful for something to
distract me from that expensive box in his jacket.

‘Neigh, only foaling around,’ he punned. ‘Come on, let’s
go in to finish our drinks and we can head down to the restaurant.’

The next ten minutes were torture. I was completely on
edge, wondering if he was suddenly going to drop to one knee in front of me.
Hard as I tried to keep my nerves under control, they must have been obvious to
him as he kept eyeing me strangely. Every passing second had my throat and
mouth getting drier and drier. By the time we were seated at our table, and a
bottle of water was placed with us along with the bottle of champagne that
Devon had ordered, I virtually drained a full glass of the delicious bubbly in
one mouthful. I waited until our food order had been placed to excuse myself
and hurried to the toilet, immediately extracting my mobile and ringing Tanya.

‘What’s up? Don’t say he’s broken your vagina already?’
she answered with a giggle.

‘Actually we haven’t had sex here yet.’

‘O my God, what’s wrong? You and Devon have sex
everywhere!’

‘If that’s shocked you, you’d better be sitting down for
this,’ I warned her as I paced back and forth.

‘You’ve not broken up?’

‘No, quite possibly the opposite.’

‘You’ve got married?’ she gasped.

‘Hell no, but … it’s hard enough for me to think about,
Tanya, let alone say … Ok Nadja, you can do this, saying it doesn’t make it
real. I found a ring in his jacket pocket. O crap, it does make it real. I
might actually have just crapped my very expensive ruffled knickers. Help me,
can you get me a flight out of here, like right now? I’m about to enter panic
mode. He’s sitting out there in this fancy restaurant halfway up the Eiffel
Tower with an engagement ring in his jacket pocket, and I’ve already memorised
all of the exits, including free fall over the railings. Shit, I’m not about to
enter panic mode, I’m already in panic mode. Help me, Tan!’ I pleaded.

‘Ok, take a deep breath. So he’s going to propose, it’s
not the end of the world. Most women would be over the frigging moon! He’s hot,
amazing in bed, has a good job and income, you love him, why the panic
stations?’

‘I’m just not ready. I told you that yesterday, it’s too
soon.’

‘Well, I think you’re bloody crazy, but if that’s how you
feel, you have to be honest with him. Crush his heart, his hopes, his dreams
like an empty Cola can, he’ll be fine.’

‘Not helping,’ I warned.

‘Sorry, he’s going to be gutted, Nadja. Just be honest
with him, tell him that you love him but you’re just not ready. He’s a big boy,
he’ll get over it.’

‘What if he doesn’t? I don’t want to lose him, Tan.’

‘Please, this is Devon we’re talking about. The guy who
turned up on Wednesday night without being asked, bearing paracetamol,
rehydrating sachets, chicken noodle soup, and a new pair of fleecy pyjamas for
you to snuggle up in, then held your hair back while you were being sick. He
loves you. Dave lay in bed laughing while I was being sick and said “serves you
right.” You’re so lucky, Devon’s a great guy. I’m telling you, he may be upset
if you say no, but he’s not walking away from you.’

‘I hope not,’ I nodded, nervously biting the end of my thumbnail.
He was so sweet with me last night, from what I could remember. He even drove
me to work and came in at lunchtime with more chicken noodle soup and
rehydrating sachets for me. ‘Shit, I’d better go, he’s sitting at the table
waiting for me.’

‘Call me later, tell me how it went.’

‘Ok,’ I sighed heavily.

‘Trust your gut, Nadja. If it’s telling you that now
isn’t the right time, then it isn’t. Don’t feel pressured into saying yes, then
break his heart further down the line.’

‘I don’t ever want to hurt him,’ I said sincerely. That
was what was making this so hard. ‘Call you later, and thank you.’

‘No problem. Just make sure he’s not standing by the
railings when you decline, in case
he
decides to jump.’

‘Tanya!’

‘Sorry,’ she giggled. ‘Go.’

I terminated the call and tucked my phone back into my
clutch and went to stand in front of one of the sinks, gripping it as I looked
at myself in the mirror. I looked like I’d just been given a terminal illness
diagnosis. Tanya was right, I was making way too big a deal of this. I was a
grown woman, I just had to let him down gently and give him plenty of
reassurance that I was happy. Because I was happy, I just wasn’t ready to talk
about the future, not when I had this niggling feeling that for some reason, we
weren’t meant to be. Until I got over that, engagement was out of the question.
I ran my ponytail through my circled fingers, smoothing out the stray hairs,
then touched up my lips with some clear gloss and took a deep breath. When I
strode back into the restaurant, Devon was sitting with his elbows on the
table, his hands linked and pressed up against his mouth, his eyes trained on
the door waiting for me. He frowned as I walked over, then jumped up to pull my
chair out for me. I kissed him, gave him my best smile, and took my seat.

‘Are you ok?’ I asked.

‘Hmmm,’ he nodded, taking his place opposite me. I cocked
my head, it was my turn to frown. He looked on edge. Great, he was nervous
about proposing and I was about to crush his dreams by saying no.
What a
bitch!

‘God, I hope the food comes fast. I’m so hungry and I
need some calories ready for our anniversary session later,’ I winked, trying
to inject some levity to the situation.

‘Twenty-four hour room service, babe.’ He gave me a
slightly restrained smile. ‘I’ll burn these calories off for you in minutes,
but we can top up anytime we like, as often as we like.’

‘Who needs to diet when you have a Devon,’ I grinned. He
rubbed his mouth and reached over the table to clasp my hand, and my heart damn
near exploded on the spot.

‘Nadja, I …’

‘Excusez-moi, your entrée, Madame,’ interrupted a waiter,
holding my plate as he gave me an apologetic smile. I threw him a relieved one
as Devon quickly pulled his hand back and grabbed his glass of champagne,
swigging half of it back in one go. He was definitely on edge, that was
obvious, as was I, and it made for rather muted conversation over a delicious
meal. Luckily we had the most amazing view of Paris to detract from the
tension. I’d just finished my dessert when Devon suddenly reached over to grab
my hand again. I felt like I was in free fall from the top of the tower again.
Sheer panic flooded my system as I swallowed hard.