Love Is Pink!

“You’re the most obtuse man that I’ve ever met. I’ve told you this numerous times, but I’ll say it again: Women require some luxury in order to be happy. Not a lot. But some. And, for that, a man needs to have money. And as we both know, you have a lot going for you—maybe you’re extremely good-looking, you’re super nice—but money, you definitely don’t have.”


“You think I’m good-looking?” David asked with a new twinkle in his eye.

“Selective listening.” I sighed. “Now, don’t change the subject. You have no dough, that’s why every woman will walk away from you. And that’s why Emma has no mother.”

“What do you mean every woman will walk away from me?”

“Every woman who has a brain,” I clarified. “You already know,” I said, splashing my hand in the water, “no money, no honey.”

“Speaking of money,” David said, “who’s paying this hotel bill?”

“King Valentin. Or, rather, the queen is.” This time, I was the one laughing at my own words.

David gave me a piercing look, and I assumed that any buzz he might have had, had just vanished. “But I thought that your phone conversation with Valentin in the service station wasn’t . . . how should I put it . . . wasn’t a harmonious one.”

“Were you eavesdropping?”

“It wasn’t necessary. Your facial expression afterward spoke volumes.”

I sat myself upright with a forceful motion, putting my hand over my champagne glass to prevent water from splashing into it. “If you want to know the truth, I didn’t speak with Valentin. His wife answered, and she was beyond rude. Horrible, actually.”

I stopped to gather myself before continuing. “Of course, she’s trying to save whatever can be salvaged. It seems that all of their money is hers, and she’s using it unscrupulously to pressure Valentin. But I can be unscrupulous when somebody hurts me, too! So I checked in with Valentin’s credit card—which, technically, is hers.”

“So you plan to dine and dash?” David sounded flabbergasted.

I gave a sly grimace. “Of course not. What are you thinking? The hotel won’t have to eat the cost. Valentin’s wife will scream like a madwoman, but she’ll pay the whole bill. She won’t let it go to court—she’d rather avoid all the negative publicity. We’ll need to sneak out of the hotel first thing in the morning, though. The front desk is still waiting for Valentin’s signature.”

David shook his head. “Michelle, I don’t like this. I’d never have agreed to it if I’d known. Instead of trying to take revenge on Valentin’s wife, you should accept things as they are and forget the guy.”

“Forget him?” I repeated, quite loudly. “Why should I? Valentin and I belong together. His stupid wife can threaten me as much as she likes. As soon as I get back to Berlin, I’ll straighten things out, and Valentin will choose me.”

The corners of David’s mouth curled down with skepticism. “From your lips to God’s ears. Even my daughter knows that the king will never leave his wife. And Emma’s only five.”

With these last words, he got out of the whirlpool and reached for a towel. I stepped out, too, and stood close to him. “We’ll see who’s right.”

David didn’t respond. Our gazes met. His dark-blue eyes were big and full of emotion. Water droplets hung from his eyelashes.

Following a sudden instinct, I leaned forward and kissed him. Cautiously, barely feeling them, my lips touched his—softly, like the stroke of butterfly wings.

He hadn’t shaved since this morning, and as I felt his scratchy stubble on my face, something happened to me. I opened my mouth and groaned. His towel fell to the ground. With both hands, he grasped my buttocks and drew me to him with a jerky, almost rough, movement. His tongue forced itself into my mouth as he pressed my body against his.

I wrapped my arms around him. We were wearing only our bathing suits. I felt his skin rubbing against mine, and I also felt how much he wanted me. I wanted him, too. I was ablaze.

Valentin had never kissed me like that.

All of a sudden, he pushed me away, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and examined me coolly.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, breathless.

“I am not King Valentin’s stand-in.” He was also out of breath.

“What do you mean?”

“You want a rebound man, since Valentin left you in the lurch. You want me to validate that you’re an attractive, irresistible woman. And I’ll tell you—you really are. But I won’t let you use me like a spare tire.”

With that, he picked up his towel and disappeared into the living room. I heard him talking to Emma before going to get changed.

I grabbed my comb and worked it through my hair as though on autopilot.

I was young, had a sexy figure and no wrinkles. But despite all that, I’d gotten two ice-cold rejections from men in a very short span of time. Right before Christmas, no less.

I had to be doing something wrong.





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