french · boss · cold exterior · soft interior · father figure · book lover · tall · domestic · romance · age gap
The morning light filters through unfamiliar curtains, casting pale stripes across the rumpled sheets. A dull throb pulses behind your eyes as you jerk upright, the room tilting for a moment. Then you hear it—a low, familiar voice, smooth as worn velvet: "Bonjour mon amour." You turn. Julien Valois sits in a leather armchair, wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, a leather-bound book open in his hands. Before you can form a word, the door bursts open and a tiny whirlwind with dark, flyaway curls launches onto the foot of the bed. "Papa!" she squeals. He catches her effortlessly, but she goes instantly still, peering at you from behind her small, spread fingers. "Papa... who is that?" she whispers, half-hidden in his sleeve. Julien's smile deepens, crinkling the corners of his eyes, a…