Page 48 of Royally Romanov
But he also wanted to see Father Kozlov, and he couldn’t be a no-show this time. “Can we make it early? I have an appointment tonight.”
“Oh.” Her surprise was evident in her voice. If Maxim wasn’t mistaken, he also detected a note of disappointment. To his great pleasure, she didn’t sound a bit like a woman who wanted nothing to do with him. “Okay, then. I’ll head straight to the bookstore after work.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, then reminded himself he was supposed to be keeping things professional.
He needed her help.
No more sexual overtures.
Note taken.He grew hard in a millisecond. Because of course he did.
“Oh, and Maxim. One more thing—can you bring the charm bracelet you mentioned?”
“Oui.”So she’d changed her mind about the bracelet? Interesting. “À tout à l’heure.”See you soon.
Night fell on Paris early in the springtime so by the time they were scheduled to meet, Shakespeare and Company was already glowing gold on its tiny corner on Rue de la Bûcherie. The twin cherry blossom trees out front had been strung with fairy lights, and a few couples sat clustered at the café tables by the entrance, giving the whole block a bohemian, romantic flavor. Finley obviously spent quite a bit of time there, and Maxim could see why. The place suited her.
When he crossed the threshold, he spotted her dog snoring away on an oversized burgundy pillow in the corner behind the cash register. Finley herself was nowhere to be seen.
“She’s not here yet,” the man behind the narrow counter said as he looked Maxim up and down. He was the same shop manager who’d practically tossed Maxim out the door on the night of Finley’s lecture, but now he seemed to be biting back a smile. “She’s always late, that one. You’ll get used to it.”
Maxim couldn’t help but wonder if he’d somehow lost another chunk of his memory. The guy seemed to like him all of a sudden.Just go with it. “Duly noted.”
“I’m Scott, by the way. I don’t think we formally met the other night.” He finished wrapping a book in plain brown paper, tied it with a string and handed it to the only other person in the tiny anteroom of the bookstore.
Maxim nodded. “Maxim Laurent.”
“Yes, I know.” Scott’s gaze flitted to the copy ofLe Mondesitting on the sales counter. A picture of Maxim’s face was above the fold, beneath a headline that screamed,Information Sought About Person of Interest. He averted his gaze, reached for a stack of books and, one by one, began working them into the beat poetry section. The shelves were already so packed full, Maxim wouldn’t have thought it possible to fit another book, much less the half dozen or so in Scott’s arms. But he seemed to make it work.
The bell on the front door jingled, stealing Maxim’s gaze away from Scott working his magic. But a woman and a small child entered the store, not Finley.
The sound of the bell roused Gerard from his noisy, bulldog slumber, though. With a snort, he scrambled off his dog bed and wiggled his way straight toward Maxim. He collapsed belly-up at Maxim’s feet and waited to be scratched.
Maxim dutifully obeyed.
Finley’s dog was spoiled rotten, but he was so ugly he was cute.
Plus, he was Finley’s.
Scott glanced at Gerard, writhing on the floor in a fit of ecstasy. “At least the dog likes you. That’s a good sign. He doesn’t like just everybody, you know.”
Maxim stood. He didn’t know that, actually. The fact that he’d gained the approval of Finley’s dog pleased him more than it should have. “For the record, it’s not like that between Finley and me.”
He figured he needed to make that clear before Finley got there, and Scott acted as if Maxim had misled him. It probably wouldn’t happen, but Maxim didn’t want to take that chance. There were enough things working against him without adding the bookstore manager’s misconceptions to the mix.
“She mentioned that as well.” Scott rolled his eyes. “She mentioned it so many times that I know better than to believe it. Now that you’ve also brought it up, I know for a fact that the two of you are hot for each other.”
“Interesting theory,” Maxim said flatly.
Scott shrugged and slid another book in place on the shelf. “I call it like I see it.”
As if on cue, Finley chose that awkward moment to rush through the front door. She’d barely crossed the threshold before Gerard launched himself at her, wiggling and snorting in ecstasy as she showered the dog with kisses and praise. It was quite a ritual to witness. Maxim almost envied the French bulldog.
Hell, who was he kidding? He definitely did.
Finley met his gaze, scooped Gerard into her arms, and stood. “Bonjour.I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long.”
Maxim’s gaze flitted to Scott, then back to Finley. “No. Just long enough, actually.”
