Page 25 of Seduced By You

The issue I had to solve was that I didn’t know what that dream career entailed. I wanted to dogoodin the world, to use my brain after all those years of strutting down a catwalk and posing for endless photographs, but I hadn’t a clue what that looked like. What if I moved to Paris and became an artist, living in a tiny loft with a view of the Seine? Hmm. The problem with that idea was I couldn’t draw for shit. Even stick men were above my capabilities. Nor could I dance all that well, so applying for Moulin Rouge was also out of the question.

I jumped into the shower and dressed in the second-skin jeans and shirt I’d picked at Boutique Noémie. Slipping on the four-inch stilettos that elongated my legs, I looked in the mirror.Not bad, girl. Not bad at all. I applied more makeup than usual and curled my lavender hair until it fell in endless waves down my back. I hadn’t gotten dressed up like this in a long time. I only wore a touch of mascara and lipstick at the club and usually tied my hair in a high ponytail to keep it out of the clients’ drinks.

“Fuck you, Benedict. You’ll rue the day you picked your political ambitions over me.” A chuckle made its way up my throat. He probably wouldn’t, but it felt good to have the thought.

I found Kadon sitting at the large dining room table tucking into a sizable breakfast. Men were so lucky. They could eat mostly what they wanted without putting on a pound in weight. Not at Kadon’s age, anyway. Perhaps as they got older. Women only had to look at a pastry and put on five pounds. Not that I cared all that much these days. I ate whatever I wanted, just not every day. But today, it’d have to be the fruit bowl. These jeans wouldn’t show off to their best if I had to undo the button to let my belly hang out.

Kadon’s jaw almost unhinged when he saw me. “Fuck, Lee. You look… I mean…” He let out a low whistle. “Benedict’s gonna shit his pants.”

“Ew. I do hope not.”

“Seriously. I know I saw that outfit when you bought it, but Christ, you’ve gone all out.”

“Go big or go home, right?” I pulled out the chair next to his and sat down. “It’s armor. That’s all. Underneath this”—I gestured to my face and clothing—“I’m a hot mess.”

He caught my hand in his, wrapped his fingers around mine, and lightly squeezed. “I’ve got you. We’ve got this. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“My legs are shaking. God knows what I’ll be like when we actually get there.”

“You put your arm around me. I’ll support you. Physically, emotionally, whatever you need to get through this weekend, I’m there for you.”

His speech hit me right in my feels. I canted my head and smiled softly. “I hit the jackpot the day I met you.” Something crossed his face, an emotion too fleeting for me to catch, then he turned away and reached for the teapot, pouring me a cup and topping off his own.

“What do you want to eat? I ordered pretty much everything on the menu just in case.”

“Okay, Richard Gere.” I laughed. “Although, I am nowhere near as pretty as Julia Roberts.”

He nodded. “It’s true. Julia’s a fox. Then and now.”

I picked up a croissant and chucked it at him. “Arsehole.”

His hand snapped out, and he caught it. Pastry crumbs rained down on the table. “Gotta be quicker than that, Lee. I played baseball when I was a kid.”

I saw an opportunity to tease him, and I took it. “In the UK, we call that rounders, and it’s played by little girls with pigtails during break time.”

He gaped at me, pressing a hand to his chest. “You didnotjust diss my beloved baseball.”

I shrugged, my grin both innocent and devilish. “I’m only educating you on cultural differences.”

“You’re lucky you’re not my girl. I’d put you over my knee for insulting my favorite sport.”

My belly flipped, something unfurling down there, something I hadn’t felt in a very long time: desire. I’d deny it if I thought I could lie to myself and get away with it, but what point was there in contesting the bleeding obvious?It’s the situation, and the nerves. And the fact that I haven’t had sex in months.Yeah, that was it. Nothing more than that.

“Lee? You okay?”

“Um…” I shook my head. “Yeah, sorry. My mind is all over the place today. It keeps wandering off. I should put it on a leash.”

He laughed, and the moment passed. “Eat. We have to leave in thirty minutes.”

I hovered around the entrance as Kadon visited the reception desk to check us out of the suite and settle the bill. I’d insisted that I pay half. He’d given me a look that reeked of offense, and I’d withdrawn my offer. He hadn’t let me contribute to last night, either. And, come to think of it, he’d booked the Eurostar tickets and hired the car. I wasn’t anywhere near Kadon rich, but I had more than enough money to spring for half of this trip. I’d revisit the conversation at a more appropriate time.

I’d never been on the Eurostar, and after we handed over our luggage and the hideous fruit bowl, we strolled down the platform toward the first-class carriages at the front of the train. Ridiculous bubbles of excitement rose within me, like a shaken bottle of Bollinger, and I couldn’t take the inane grin off my face.

“Y’know, the tunnels between France and the UK are an engineering miracle.”

Kadon chuckled. “There are no engineering miracles. Engineering is an exact science.”

“You know what I mean. It’s incredible. That’s all. Did you know they started digging separately and met in the middle? How amazing is that?”

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