Page 33 of The French Kiss

“Yes, there is. Friday, you were jealous and I didn’t handle it properly. I should’ve—”

“I wasn’t jealous!”

“When thosemeufcame into the lounge, you wanted to... snatch a bitch?” I think I’m using her American slang properly, or at least I hope so.

Autumn’s eyes spark fire, and I’m not sure whether she’s going to eviscerate me or storm off.

“You didn’t like Melia touching me, either,” I add.

“She was spreading your thighs like she wanted to make room for her and her assistant. I’m not down to watch you live out somemenage a troisfantasy,” she snarls, flipping her hair over her shoulder and refusing to meet my eyes.

“Ah, you do know some French, then?” Her head snaps back around, and she glares at me. I answer with a flirty smile. “I am not interested in any of those women at the club, nor Melia, nor anyone else. In fact, until a few days ago, I would’ve said I wasn’t interested in anyone.”

“And now?” she asks quietly. But then she shakes her head, firmly stating, “It’s not my business. Don’t answer that.”

“Now, I find I’m utterly captivated... by you.”

I grab a random shirt and walk away, letting her have a moment to think. On the set, I tell Malia, “Let’s do some shots with the chair.”

I’m not even dressed. I’m wearing boxer briefs, an unbuttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a watch. I sit down in the low-slung leather chair, and Melia hands me a cut crystal glass with amber liquid in it. “You don’t need to drink it. Just pose with it.”

“I know.”

I look deep into the camera’s lens, imagining it’s a lover I want to seduce. Like Autumn.

I move my gaze to Autumn herself. I hear Melia’s camera clicking away, and I shift and move through poses, but my eyes never leave Autumn.

“Superbe!” Melia says excitedly. “Fini.”

“Thank you,” I tell her. While Melia and her assistant begin packing up, I go back to Autumn.

“What are you thinking?”

She faces me fully, bravely confessing, “I’ve been thinking about that kiss all weekend. I didn’t like those women all over you. But I’ve heard you can have any woman you want. Why would you be interested in me? Especially when I’m only here for the competition. It doesn’t make any sense.”

I take her hand in mine, brushing a gentle kiss to her knuckle. “Go out with me.” I see excitement and refusal warring in her eyes. “We can look over the photos from today’s shoot. And I can dispel the false impressions you have about me.”

She’s thinking again, her mind visibly processing behind her eyes. The most important thing I’ve heard from her is that the kiss we shared did something to her too. I’m not sure what I’m feeling, but we’re both feeling it.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at eight,” I tell her. “Okay?”

I want her to say yes. I need her to. She’s using the competition as a barrier between us, and I won’t do anything to affect her work, knowing how important it is to her. But all work and no play leads to burnout, and Autumn is far too special for that.

I wait impatiently, and finally, she puts me out of my misery. “Okay.”

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