Page 19 of Falling for Paris
“This is not the case in the United States?”
“There’s no shortage of brilliant authors and thinkers, obviously, but most of our celebrities are just that—famous for being famous.”
“Ah, that explains some of the references of my younger colleagues. I’m not certain what our YouTube videos are offering, but they insist on its value. As if we are making something tangible when, at least for me, I’m making nothing at all.”
They walked along the Seine aimlessly, Tori gathering her thoughts while rushing locals and bustling tourists passed them. She attempted to formulate her mixed reaction into a coherent argument. Because his statement—I’m making nothing at all—was unacceptable.
“You’re not makingnothing.You’re bringing people together, you’re sharing your expertise, you’re…you’re helping your audienceunderstandthe food they love.In my condo at the other side of the world, I learned about cooking from videos like these.”
Tori glanced at him to catch the slight narrowing of his eyes as if he was trying to focus. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. His only ostensible response was a thoughtful tilt of his head and a mumbled, “I see.”
When they approached a grand square, Rafael did a dramatic sweep of his arm as he announced, “ThePlace de la Concorde,mademoiselle. This is where one decides whether or not a Ferris wheel is in one’s future.”
She shivered at the thought. “I can barely fly in an airplane. I’d love to see the city from that view but there’s no way I’m swinging hundreds of feet in the air with nothing but a flimsy floor to keep me from pummeling to my death.”
“I can massage your hand,” he said while reaching over and placing her hand in his hot palm. The glint in his eyes was golden. “If you want to give it a try.”
He likely meant it as a comforting joke. Rafael moved to release her fingers but she stopped him. “We don’t have to be hundreds of feet in the air for you to hold my hand,” she whispered.
Looking down at their connection and entangling their fingers, Rafael smiled. But it was tinged with discomfort.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I want to do more than hold your hand, Tori. You must know that by now. So,” he paused, his other hand tilting her chin so she was arrested by his jade eyes, so light they reflected the blues of a cloudless summer sky. “So you’ll need to decide.”
“Wha—what do I need to decide?”
“I could walk you home now. Then I’d catch the train to my home inLe Vésinet, or…”
He didn’t continue his sentence because that was the exact moment Tori eliminated the space between them and wrapped her free arm around his waist. She let her fingers strum the deep ridges of his lower back muscles. The closeness pushed her alert nipples against his wide chest. His heart thud against hers, as fast and furious as her own.
She didn’t bother waiting for whatever he was going to say because she already knew her choice. “I’ll take theor, thank you very much.”
His chuckle warmed her cheek. She relished the bittersweet trace of chocolate lingering in his breath.
“In that case,” he whispered as his hand skimmed her hip. “Will you have dinner with me,mon ange?”
He wasn’t sure if dinner with Victoria Espinoza was the best or the worst idea he ever had. He arranged to pick her up in a few hours, giving them both a chance to freshen up. He used the opportunity to gather his thoughts, tame his nerves (not missing his medication window this time), and bolster some control which slipped every minute he spent with her.
Today, her fierce declaration shook him.You’re bringing people together, you’re sharing your expertise, you’re helping your audience understand the food they love.Abruptly, a flash of the young Victoria Espinoza blazed his consciousness. She was the first to announce to Rafael that, one day, he would be a “super fancy chef.” He always recalled that moment fondly. The string that connected the past to the present tugged, making him feel vulnerable and nostalgic. He needed a shower.
Once shaved and dressed, Rafael acknowledged the now-familiar tingling in his lower body at the thought of seeing her soon. No longer nostalgic, he was instead exceedingly horny.
He had frequently enjoyed the company of women, but personal matters were always second to his career. Allison was his one attempt at a relationship. When that blew up, Rafael confirmed that no one would want to be with a grumpy, frustrated, incapacitated man.
But something in Rafael whispered,You’ll regret shutting Tori out. She’ll leave eventually but not tonight. Tonight she’s still here, waiting for you. Willing to be with you.
And so he found himself outside her building’s entrance, like an inexperienced teenager on a first date, embarrassingly eager and completely out of his element.
Rafael:I’m outside whenever you’re ready.
Victoria:I’m sorry! I’m running late.
Rafael was about to text that she could take her time but another text pinged.Do you mind coming upstairs? I’ll buzz you in.
Of course he would come upstairs. He shouldn’t, but he would. Rafael found himself at the landing outside her door, which was left slightly ajar. Worry surged past his eagerness.
“You cannot leave your door op—” He lost his voice once he stepped through the threshold because the scene before him knocked him on his ass. Not literally, but close.
