Page 22 of Seduced By You

“I think you’ve worn out that joke.”

She hadn’t. I wouldn’t care if she teased me about cultural sayings for the next fifty years.

“Fair enough. It’s not like you don’t provide me with plenty of fodder.”

I swept my arm from me to her in a grand gesture. “Pot, meet Kettle.”

She giggled, stepping outside, where she took a deep breath. “Ah, Paris. The city of love.”

I joined her. “Did you come here with… him?” It pained me to ask, but if she had, depending on what they’d done while they’d been here, I might have to change my plans for this evening.

“No. He said it was too touristy.”

Jerkweed.

Paris was only too touristy for those with zero imagination. The city was crammed full with plenty of off-the-beaten-track gems hidden among the usual suspects. We didn’t have time to see them on this trip, but I made a mental note to suggest we came back on another occasion.

I’d love to show LeemyParis.

And I would, even if it was only as friends.

“Do you want to freshen up before dinner?” I checked my watch. We had an hour before we had to be down by the Seine for my surprise.

“That’d be good. Are we eating here?”

“No.”

She canted her head. “Let me guess. Burger van? Falafel? Mexican street food?”

I tapped my nose. “You’ll see.”

“But what do I wear?”

Buck naked works for me.

“What you’re wearing is fine. Jeans. A top. A light jacket.” Paris was enjoying one of the warmest Novembers on record, which worked perfectly for my evening plans.

“So I was right. Greasy Burgers R Us.”

I grinned. “You have thirty minutes. Make it fast. Take that bedroom.” I pointed to the door behind the couch. “It’s the best one. It has a view of the Eiffel Tower.”

I took a quick shower and threw on jeans and a black button-down shirt. Grabbing a bottle of beer from the minibar, I wandered out onto the balcony to drink in Paris at night.

My chest ached, my heart yearning for her. I thought fake dating would be easy, but it turned out to be far more difficult than I’d imagined. My worst nightmare was tripping up and Lee guessing my true feelings. Having her pat me on the shoulder and tell me she loved me and all, just not likethat.

It was an almost impossible line to walk. Everyone outside the two of us had to buy the whole boyfriend-slash-girlfriend thing, yet if I fully immersed myself in the role, it would stop being pretend and become all too real.

What if I slipped up? What if, in a moment of weakness, I spilled my true feelings?

No champagne for me this weekend.

“Ready?”

At Lee’s question, I pivoted, checking my watch. “You have three minutes to spare.”

She curtsied. “Despite what you might think of a former model, Mr. Kingcaid, I don’t take three hours to get ready.”

“Good to know.” I set my half-finished beer on the bistro table and held out my arm. “Shall we go, Miss Alarie?”

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