Page 63 of The Charmer's Gambit
“Hey, it’s not my fault their food is better.” His defensive tone didn’t match the mirth tugging at his lips. “Besides, it’s your first trip to Paris. Only the best will do in this situation.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Well, you sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Mershano.”
He smirked. “You think so? Wait until you see the car we’re renting for our drive south on Monday.”
“Another truck?” I teased.
“No.”
“Something sexy, then?”
He gave me an affronted look. “My truck is sexy.”
I patted him on the back. “Sure it is, darling. Now, tell me about this car. Is it fast, and do I get to drive it?” Because that’s all that mattered.
“Yes, and that depends. What would you be willing to give me in exchange for the keys?” His gaze dropped to my lips, then slid back up slowly.
“I’m sure I could come up with something you’d enjoy.” I waggled my brows at him suggestively.
“Such as?”
“Well, you see, I have certain oral skills, Mister Mershano, that may intrigue you.”
He grinned. “Oh, I’m very familiar with your argumentative abilities, Miss Dawson. Although, I’ll never complain about putting your smart mouth to better use.”
“Careful, or I’ll put my teeth tobetter useas well.”
“I might enjoy that.”
With all his biting and nipping? Yeah, he probably would. “I don’t even remember what we were talking about now.” All this sexy banter distracted me.
“That’s okay, gorgeous. We can work out the details of our trade later.” He kissed me soundly before pulling back with a smile. “You know what the French are famous for?”
“Fashion?” If he expected me to model lingerie right now, he was in for a surprise because I had no intention of getting out of this bed anytime soon.
His dimples deepened as he interpreted my expression correctly. “Don’t worry, darlin’. You can model for me later. I was talking about dessert.”
“I like dessert.”
He brushed a kiss over my lips. “Then I’ll order some for us to enjoy in bed before round two.”
“Round two?” I wasn’t even close to recovering from round one.
Desire dilated his pupils. “Oh, darlin’, that was just our warm-up. You’ll understand after we eat dessert.”
24
Conflict of Interest
I studied the photo on my phone. The dark-haired beauty wore a fashionable suit, one meant for being captured in an image such as this. Her gloved fingers were wrapped around the neck of my ex-fiancé as he bent to whisper something in her ear. His grin was one I recognized well. He used it when he wanted to charm someone, and the woman clearly approved.
The text was the last thing I expected to pop up on my screen after driving all day from Paris to Nice, but I knew something was coming because Mark hadn’t contacted me since my confession on Saturday. Until now.
“What am I looking at?” I asked.
“That is Bianca Jenkins,” Mark replied over the speakerphone. “Wife of Senator Jenkins.”
My eyebrows shot up. Not only did I recognize the name, but I’d met the man several times. “He’s one of Ryan’s biggest supporters.”
