Swept into the Rich Man's World(11)

       

He was tempted to go and speak to her. What was it about her that drew  him to her? He certainly admired her tenacity and her determination to  start again. And the moment he was in the same room as her, he was  sidetracked by her radiance and beauty. By her positive outlook on life.  By her smile. By the thick curtain of hair that seemed to change colour  according to the light-chocolate-brown at times, filled with highlights  of cinnamon and caramel at other times. By her body, which called to  the most elemental parts of him...

Yes, she talked too much, and was way too messy...but after two years of  silence part of him yearned for her chatter, for her warmth, for her  positive outlook on life.

Another part of him wanted to shut it all out. At least that way he wouldn't be able to mess up a relationship again.

And at times her honesty and openness left him floundering. This morning  and this evening she had spoken with an emotional honesty that had made  him stop and think. And he wasn't sure if he liked that. She spoke  about the past while he preferred to ignore it.

Knowing now, though, what she had gone through with her business  collapse, made him want to protect and help her even more. He wanted her  business to succeed and he would give her all the support that she  required.

He just needed to ensure that he kept it strictly professional.





CHAPTER FIVE

WEARING FOUR-INCH HEELS on a day when she had to race from meeting to  meeting using the Paris Métro hadn't been one of her best ideas.

At least her short-sleeved silk button-down dress, which she had  designed and created using one of her new range of textiles, was  comfortable. And thankfully it had also proved to be a major hit with  many of the designers she had met with today. They had commented on the  dress the moment she had walked into their studios, and it had been the  perfect icebreaker for her to introduce the rest of her range.

Her toes were pinched, though, in her never-before-worn shoes, as she  walked out of the headquarters of one of Europe's leading online luxury  fashion retailers. But she still didn't regret her refusal to use  Patrick's chauffeur for the day.

It was bad enough that they had travelled to Paris on his private jet.  That they were staying in his unbelievably beautiful chateau. She  couldn't accept any further help from him.

This morning they had travelled together into the centre of Paris and  he'd had his chauffeur, Bernard, drop her at her first meeting. She had  been too nervous to chat, and for once had been grateful for Patrick's  silence.

But as she had been about to leave the car he had looked at her with a  gentle kindness that had almost floored her and said, 'Believe in  yourself.'

She stepped through the automatic sliding doors out on to the street and  paused. The building was at the corner of an intersection of five  boulevards. Which way was the Métro again? And would it look odd if she  walked barefoot?

And then, a little further down the street, she spotted him-leaning  against a lamppost, watching her. She faltered at the intensity of his  gaze. And then his mouth curled into a smile and she came to a complete  stop. He'd smiled at her. He'd actually smiled at her.

She knew she was staring at him in shock but she couldn't help it. He was smiling at her! And it felt like the best thing ever.

She smiled back, beyond caring that she probably looked really goofy.  And for a joyous few seconds they simply smiled at each other.

Her heart was beating crazily, and her stomach felt as though it was an express elevator on a busy day.

He was so gorgeous when he smiled. Dressed in a bespoke dark navy suit  and a crisp white shirt open at the collar, he wore no tie. Other  pedestrians did a double take as they passed him by. And if she'd been  in their shoes she, too, would have walked by with her mouth open at the  sight of the extraordinarily handsome man standing on the pavement, his  eyes an astonishing translucent blue, a smile on his delicious mouth.

Heat rushed through her body, quickly followed by a sharp physical stab of attraction.

As she walked to him she tried to disguise the blush that burnt on her  cheeks by fussing with the laptop and samples bags in her hands.

'Hi. What are you doing here?'

'You told me your last meeting of the day was here, so I thought I'd come and see how your day went.'                       
       
           



       

He said it with such sincerity the air whooshed out of her lungs and she  could only stand there, looking at him with a big soppy grin.

This was all so crazy. How on earth had she ended up in the city of love  with the most incredible and gorgeous guy in the world smiling down at  her?

'You look very happy.'

'I'm working on not being taciturn.'

She had to swallow a laugh as she eyed him suspiciously. 'Are you mocking me?'

'Possibly. How does a martini sound?'

She should say no. Pretend to have some work she needed to do back in his chateau. Keep her distance.

But instead she said, 'That sounds like heaven.'

He signalled down the boulevard. Within seconds a dark saloon had pulled up beside them.

* * *

His chauffeur had dropped them at his favourite bar in Paris. It had  been a while since he had been to the sleek hotel opposite the Jardin du  Luxembourg, but it was still as fun and lively as he remembered. And it  served the best martinis in the city.

They had spoken little during the journey. The minute she had sat in the  car she had slipped off her shoes, leant her head back on the headrest  with a sigh and looked out at the familiar Parisian sights as Bernard  took them down the Champs-Élysées, then Place de la Concorde, and  crossed the river at Pont de la Concorde.

'Are your feet still hurting?'

She had looked at him warily. 'Kind of.' Then, with a rueful smile,  she'd added, 'Okay-I admit they're killing me. Lord, I miss my old  shoes. Stupid flood.'

When she had earlier refused to use his car for the day, at first he'd  been irritated at her stubbornness, but then he'd had to admit to  himself a grudging admiration for her determination to be independent.  But it did still irk him a little. Using his car would have been no big  deal.

The lighting in the bar was low, and light jazz music played in the  background. Her eyes lit up when the waiter placed their drinks on the  table with a flourish. A kick of awareness at just how beautiful, how  sexy she was, caught him with a left hook again.

Earlier that left hook had caught him right in the solar plexus when she  had walked out on to the street from her meeting. Her black dress with  its splatters of blue-and-cream print stopped at mid-thigh. And long,  long legs ended in the sexiest pair of red shoes he'd ever seen. Red  shoes that matched the red gloss on her lips. Lips he wanted to kiss  clean, jealous of the effect they would have on any other man.

Despite himself he hadn't been able to stop smiling at her. And when  she'd smiled back, for the first time in a long time, life had felt  good.

'So, how was your day?'

It had been so long since anyone had asked him that question he was  taken aback for a few seconds. She leant further across the table and  looked at him expectantly, with genuine interest. Tightness gripped his  chest. He had pushed so many people away in the past two years. And now  this warm, funny and vibrant woman made him realise two things: how  alone he had been and how much he must have hurt those he had pushed  away.

Would the same thing happen to her?

He felt as though he was being pulled by two opposing forces: the need  to connect with her versus the guilt of knowing that by doing so he was  increasing the likelihood of hurting her when it was time for her to  return to her cottage.

But once again the need to connect won out.

'It went well. I finalised my negotiations to buy out a mobile software application for hospital consultants.'

'That's brilliant. Congratulations.'

She lifted her martini glass and together they toasted the negotiations.  It felt good to celebrate an acquisition with someone after all this  time.

Her head tilted in curiosity. 'What are you smiling about?'

He scratched his neck and looked at her doubtfully. Oh, what the heck?  He would tell her. 'I was just thinking that sitting in a bar with you,  toasting an acquisition, sure beats my attempts to train the dogs to  high-five my acquisitions.'

Her laughter was infectious, and they both sat and grinned at each other for a long while.

'You can always pop down to my cottage to celebrate in future.'

Instantly a bittersweet sadness reverberated in the air between them.  Across the table her smile faded, and he could see her own doubt as to  whether they could ever have such an easy relationship.                       
       
           



       

He needed to get this conversation back on neutral ground. 'Tell me about your day.'