Summary
My first mistake?
Causing the h-o-t Frenchman a concussion.
My second?
Telling the hospital staff that I was his girlfriend.
In my defense, he didn’t speak English.
My third?
Taking him home and letting him sleep in my bed.
I never said I was Florence Nightingale . . .
He gave me a night I’ll never forget but when I wake, he’s already gone.
I tell myself it’s his loss, that I wasn’t expecting him to stay forever anyway,
And my life moves on. I get a new job.
A fresh start in a new country and I stop counting my mistakes.
Until those striking green eyes meet mine across the office,
And it all comes rushing back.
But he’s not that man anymore.
Gone are his jeans and his playful attitude.
Rich and powerful, he’s now sin in a suit.
And his English is perfect.
Were his kisses also lies? His caresses meaningless?
I feel like such a fool—I want to wrap my hands around his neck.
Though not to hug him,
Because the man is a force of nature.
A master manipulator.
He’s also my new boss.
And I already hate him.
The biggest lies are the ones we tell ourselves.
Excerpt
‘It’s not every day you find yourself in an Uber on the way home at four a.m. with a blonde wig in your pocket and a foot-long purple penis tucked into your purse.’
‘Yes, because my life is just that interesting.’
‘You’re crazy,’ Amber asserts through a chuckle.
‘Oh, I so am. Crazy broke and crazy tired.’ I swap my cell phone to my other hand as I lean down to rub my aching calf. ‘And maybe just plain crazy because why else would I be on my way home from a strip joint at pervert o’clock in heels and booty shorts?’
‘Because you have excellent morals and a strong work ethic,’ she replies evenly. ‘Your text earlier said you’d had an awful night. Did Shaun, the shitty shift manager, threaten to dock your pay for broken glasses again?’
‘The man’s name is Ted.’
‘Yeah, but alliteration, babe.’
‘Well, there was no broken glassware,’ I reply with a sigh. Thankfully, I’ve mastered the art of balancing a laden tray since my first shift last month. ‘But there are better ways to spend a night.’
‘I’m sure you’ll find something else soon.’ My friend’s tone turns sympathetic just as my Uber hits a pothole, jostling me against the back seat. I press my hand to my purse on the seat next to me, the action reminding me of the package I’d collected from the post office this afternoon. Package being the pertinent word. A blonde wig might be part of my new waitressing persona, but the purple penis, thankfully, is not.
‘I can’t believe you sent me this monstrosity,’ I murmur, my cheeks heating as I look down at the outline through the thin pleather of my purse.
‘Well, it’s certainly monstrous,’ she replies happily.
‘Want to tell me why?’
‘I thought you might’ve forgotten what one looks like.’
‘That could be true. I don’t recall them being quite so purple.’
‘The flesh-toned ones were too creepy,’ she offers by way of explanation. ‘You might be a little more grateful. It cost me a fortune to mail it from Sydney.’
The fact that she lives in Australia is the reason we’re having a conversation at four in the morning. The reason she sent me a sex toy is a little harder to understand. Out of all the things she could’ve sent—heavenly chocolate-dipped macadamia nuts or even a packet of Tim Tams—I get a stand-in penis big enough to hang a hat on.
‘I suppose I should also say thanks for your detailed description on the customs declaration form, too?’
She’d checked the box marked ‘GIFT’ before spelling out the contents in her neat penmanship. D-I-L-D-O.
‘I could’ve written substitute boyfriend instead.’
‘Lord, please send me wine,’ I appeal to the roof of the Subaru. After a month of waitressing in a strip joint, I have neither the time nor the inclination for men. Or even plastic parts of them.
‘Rub it in, why don’t you?’ she complains. ‘I can’t believe I have two whole months before I can indulge in a cool glass of Chablis, eat my own weight in Camembert, and tie my own damn sneakers again!’
My best friend happens to be pregnant after meeting the love of her life in Australia while we were backpacking there. Sadly, the only thing I found was thigh chafe.
‘But I called because you said you were having a nightmare night, so now I have my swollen cankles resting on a pillow and a glass of juice resting on my humongous bump. I am prepared,’ she declares a touch dramatically. ‘You may spill at will.’
I feel a brief pinch of envy suddenly picturing her there in her enormous home. She’s so settled and so in love. And she so doesn’t need the thing I have in my purse. I shake off the thoughts; it’s not as though love came easy to her. She deserves good things, but that’s not to say I deserved the night I had.
Review
(audiobook) That was a surprising story. Most of it is quite humorous and definitely romantic and sexy, and then, in the last few chapters, it takes a dark turn. What a twist.
Rose helps Remy after she injured him. She has a hot night with the French man before he disappears. Fast forward a few months, and Rose is hired to work at a hotel in Monaco owned by… you guessed it… Remy. Clearly the man lied to her. And it’s only the first lie of many.
I have to admit that I was annoyed with Rose when she kept forgiving Remy for his lies and deceptions. And manipulations. Yes, I could see he had real feelings for her, and he wasn’t using her exactly. Just his motivations and way of doing things were suspicious. And instead of coming clean every time she uncovered one of his lies, he kept secrets.
I also understand why he didn’t reveal everything to her. Kind of. He had trust issues, and for good reasons. Also some mysteries are better uncovered in secret. I get that. But it was detrimental to his relationship with Rose, even after courting her for months with gifts. As it is, it was still an interesting character arc, as he has to choose between finding the truth, and keeping Rose.
I found it a bit weird that a French man in Monaco decided to speak English almost all the time, even with other French people, but of course it was easier for the author. And she did mostly a good job with French sentences when used. Some of them were appropriate idioms. Some of them looked more like bad translation though. All in all, not the worst French I’ve read.
And one of the best French I listened to. Both narrators did mostly well with the French sentences. The male narrator, though, who kept a French accent even while recording in English, was amazing. Some of his sexy French words with barely an accent made me swoon hard. All in all, they both did great with their character’s emotions.
Quickie
- Series: One night forever #1 (can be read as a standalone, and connected to another series by the author)
- Hashtags: #billionaire romance #office romance #one night stand #French character
- Triggers: mild violence and assassination attempts, rape threat, drug use
- Main couple: Rose Ryan & Remy Durrand
- Hotness: 5/5
- Romance: 5/5
- + some of the French sentences were written–and said–almost perfectly…
- – … but not all of them
Stalker mode
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