Page 7 of Shades of Red

“These are lovely,” she says, handling a pair of plump cremini mushrooms.Overpricedcreminis, I might add.

“Put them back,” I order.

“Why?” she asks, ignoring me as she picks up another.

“I saidput them back.” The sternness in my voice makes her pause and look at me. Good, maybe she’ll actually start listening. “We are not going to get the first produce we put our hands all over.” I arch a brow of disapproval at her handfuls of mushrooms. “We need to scope out the rest of the market before we make a decision.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible.” She has a pout on her pretty red lips as she puts the produce back in the crate. And I’m fairly certain she’s resisting the urge to stamp her little feet as she follows me through the crowds.

I look around at the stalls, comparing sizes, colors, smells, mentally tallying the prices. In my periphery, I see Aurélie reach for a bundle of thin, stemmed carrots. “Do not touch that,” I warn.

“You’re not letting me do anything!” she huffs.

“I’m sorry; I thought you wanted to win this challenge?”

“And that requires me to stand here doing absolutely nothing while you boss me around like you’ve already been made sous?”

“Exactly,” I agree, shooting her a smile of perfectly constructed charm for the mere sake of driving her toward insanity.

Her blue eyes are like razor-edged knives as she glares at me. “I hope you choke to death on your own tongue.”

“But it would be so much more fun to chokeyouwith my tongue, golden girl.” She gasps in outrage, and I don’t even feel bad.

I brush past her, finally finding what I’m looking for. Perfect creminis at nearly half the price as the ones in the first stall. Being thorough pays off. I stoop down to grab four, good-sized mushrooms. I feel Aurélie peeking over my shoulder, shocked that I’ve actuallymade a decision. And even more astonished when she sees the price.

“But—that’s nearly three euros less per kilo,” she exclaims, her large eyes even wider than usual.

I smirk. “Exactly,” I retort again, my tone smug.

Since I’ve picked the best stall, I allow her to help select root vegetables, pearl onions, and garlic. Just to be a dick, I don’t let her go anywhere near the mushrooms. We can source the fresh herbs from the small kitchen garden at Dix,same with the pantry items like flour and salt. We still need a bottle of Côte du Rhône, grass-fed butter, a whole chicken, bacon, and a bar of bitter chocolate.

“Wine or meat?” I ask, willing to let her have a little influence moving forward.

“Le Bloc?” she asks with a hopeful gleam in her blue eyes.

Fuck me, she doesn’t learn. “I take it back, your decision making privileges are revoked.” She sticks out her bottom lip and crosses her arms over her chest. “Fucking pout, and I’ll give you something to pout about, Aurélie.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, like she can’t help tempting me.

“You see that pretty red dress you’re wearing?” I ask, pressing against her back as she walks in front of me. It’s crowded enough in the street that the brush of my hands over her hips could be considered an accident. But it’s not. I run my fingers gently over the material flowing down from her waist. It’s silky soft, but I bet her skin is even softer. I just want to bury myself in her skin and inhale her sweet cherry scent. A bead of sweat runs from her neck down the exposed indentation of her spine. I want to sweep my tongue along her bare back and lick the salt from her body.

“What about my dress?” she asks, disrupting me from my fantasies.

I press against her a little bit firmer, my hands on her hips gripping tightly enough that she knows my touches aren’t anything less thanintentional. She looks over her shoulder in surprise, staring at me with an expression that isn’t exactly afuck you. I’m not sure what she’s thinking at the moment, and instead of trying to figure it out, I tell her the twisted thoughts I can’t seem to get out of my head.

“Keep testing me, and I’ll take you into the back of one of these alleys, push you against the hard stone wall, lift up your dress, and spank you until your ass matches that pretty shade of red.”

She’s stunned into silence. I’m not even certain she’s breathing for the whole five seconds it takes for her to form a snarky reply, and then she blows with her usual temper. “Va te faire foutre!” She tries to shove me away from her with a sharp thrust of her hips. It’s a terrible move on her part because all she manages to do is rub the soft, barely covered curve of her ass into the growing erection in my pants.

“Would you like me to take that literally, my foul-mouthed little French girl?” I ask, letting her feel the hard imprint of my cock as she struggles against me. “Because I would be more than happy to acquiesce.”

“Espèce de connard,” she snaps. “Get off me. I do not consent to being manhandled in the middle of a public street.”

“Not a fan of an audience?” I ask with a laugh, releasing her and watching her storm off in front of me. She doesn’t get very far. The crowds keep her at an arm’s length. If I wanted to, I could reach for her right now and pull her against me. But I won’t. I’m gentleman enough not to force myself on a woman. Unless shewantsme to.

“Do you even know where you’re going, Aurélie?” I ask, keeping a short distance away as I follow her lead. She doesn’t know where she’s going. She stamped past the street we were supposed to turn down five minutes ago. I’m close with a boucherin this area from when I worked at the bistro. Given my good relationship with Philipe, the owner, I should be able to get us enough of a discount to win the challenge.

When she turns down a street that is decidedly the opposite ofwhere we need to be, I realize where she’s going. The little bitch is walking toward Le Bloc. We have less than two hours left, and she’s wasting my fucking time. I grab her wrist and pull her toward me.

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