Page 111 of Sinful Escape

I nodded and stepped back.

Pierre greeted the newcomers with over-the-top flamboyance, making it obvious they were regulars. In fact, their greeting was so intimate, they could be related to Pierre. They all had similar facial features, and the elderly woman looked to be the mother of the other two ladies.

As I remained standing, sipping on my champagne, Pierre led them to a table and pulled out a chair for each lady to sit. After a brief discussion, he turned from them and headed back to me.

To my surprise, he reached for my hand. “Je m'excuse. S'il vous plaît, mon beau, can you stay? I will prepare your favorite dish.”

How could I say no to those pleading eyes?

Besides, in my lust-fueled mission to get from Brussels to Paris, I’d completely forgotten to eat.

Pierre led me to my favorite table by the window and pulled out a chair, and when I sat, he draped a white napkin over my lap. After leaving my side, he returned moments later with those two letters and my book. “You read and enjoy your champagne.” He leaned forward to whisper, “We will be together again soon.”

A flush rolled up my neck as he turned his attention back to his customers.

The next couple of hours rolled along like a scene from a quaint movie. Pierre made a show of treating all his patrons, including me, like royalty. It seemed the other ladies enjoyed his company as much as I did. I was, however, treated to extra attention, as Pierre frequently leaned forward to whisper something sweet in my ear.

By the time the threesome paid for their account and rose from their chairs, it was nearly six o’clock and I’d resigned myself to the fact that my intentions for coming to Pierre would no longer be fulfilled. He would need to prepare for the dinner session, and that left little time for us.

Us! I couldn’t believe I was even thinking like that. Pierre and I weren’t an us.

After a flurry of air kisses Pierre led the women out the front door. The second they left, Pierre shut the door and flipped the sign to closed.

I blinked at him.

Did he do that for me?

Was he prepared to lose income for time with me?

And, more importantly, was I willing to let him?

When he turned to me, I knew my answer.

Desire blazed in his eyes. “I apologize for the interruption.”

“Pierre, there’s no need to?—”

He strode to me, vanquishing all words from my mind.

“I have called in Raphael. He will be the chef tonight. He will be here soon enough.”

When he cupped my face in his hands and captured my eyes with his gaze, all my worries about being rejected evaporated. “Daisy, mon beau. Let me make it up to you. Please tell me you can stay longer.”

Resisting the temptation to tell him I had nothing to do for eleven days, I nodded.

“Then it is settled. You will come to my apartment?—”

Chapter Twenty-Five

I blinked at Pierre. “Oh, ummm. . .” His apartment? Woah I was not expecting that.

“S'il vous plait, I will show you wonderful things.” He kissed the back of my hand, and my heart fluttered. He rained kisses up my arm, and it was easy to fall for his passion.

I’d never been romanced before. It felt incredible, like I was living in an exquisite dream.

Yay me!

Ready to be swept up by the magic, I let Pierre lead me outside. He shut and locked the café door and positioned my suitcase on the footboard of his Vespa.

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