The Louvre Museum was huge. She couldn’t believe how grand...and old it was. As if she’d just stepped into history, Lenna explored with reverent leisure. But the place was bigger than she’d anticipated, and Lenna had to skip most of the exhibits in order to return to the hotel by five.
Braxton had told her seven, but she wanted to be there when he arrived.
She’d worn her gift camera out by the time she finally made her way back to the Hôtel Duc de Sáint-Simon. She’d taken a picture of everything she saw. And she’d seen so much. Every statue, fountain, and exotic building had been caught by her lens. Lenna had even snapped a few shots of passing strangers.
She was sitting crossed-legged on the hotel bed, reviewing her day on the digital screen of her camera when Braxton returned. Lenna looked up as the door opened. She grinned, her heart lifting at the mere sight of him. Unable to help herself, she lifted the camera and snapped off a shot. Then she noticed the exhaustion on his face, lining his eyes and mouth with deep creases.
Braxton sent her a tired smile and tugged his tie loose. Dropping the briefcase he’d carried in, he mumbled, “Hi,” as he trudged toward her. Then he flopped face-first onto the mattress beside her and buried his nose in the sheets.
“Hi,” Lenna returned in a worried tone. She rubbed his back. “Bad day?”
He managed to lift his face and meet her gaze. “Not the first part,” he admitted. “I met my client, and we formed a pretty good rapport. But the second half of the day,” he rolled his eyes, “was a complete waste of time.”
Groaning, he sat up and scooted closer to her. “I thought I was going to be able to talk about our new line of mufflers. I even had a nifty little speech ready and everything. But all they did was call my name and have me stand up. Everybody clapped, and I sat back down.”
Running a hand through his hair and causing the dark mass to stand on end, Braxton went on. “I can’t believe I sat there through four hours of crap for that. I listened to a bunch of bullshit that had nothing whatsoever to do with Farris Industries... and all for a five second ovation of applause.” He snorted.
Lenna hugged him. “I’m sorry.”
He mumbled something incoherent and cuddled into her until his cheek landed on her lap. Closing his eyes, he let out a long, exhausted sigh, reminding her how little sleep he’d gotten.
Something nurturing sprang awake inside her. She wanted to make him all better again. After wiggling her fingers past his loose tie and undoing the top button of his shirt, she soothed his tousled dark hair back into place. “You really care about making this project work, don’t you?”
He opened one eye. “Of course.”
To hide her embarrassed flush, she leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I’m sorry, I just...I don’t know. You spoke so highly of your last job. But you’re putting so much time and effort into this one.”
Eyebrows crinkled as if confused by her confusion, he murmured, “Well, yeah. My dad started this company from nothing. He put his entire life into it. He loved it. And I love him, so I’m trying to honor his legacy as best as I can.”
Swallowing the lump on her throat, Lenna began to play with his hair. But shame tightened her chest with the desire to cry. His goal was so noble and altruistic. Yet she knew her father was impeding his objective. Plus her secret relationship with him was straining everything on top of that.
“So,” he asked, smiling for her benefit. “How was your day?”
Since he looked sincerely curious, Lenna forced a thrilled grin. “I loved it.”
Braxton’s eyes glittered as he sat up to rest his weight on his elbow. “Good. I hoped you would.” He leaned forward and kissed her softly.
But Lenna pulled back to add, “It would’ve been better if I’d experienced it with you, though.”
“Then I have good news. We don’t have to be apart for the rest of the trip.”
“Really?” she asked, looking skeptical.
Braxton returned the serious look and leaned his forehead against hers. “Really. They canceled the short conference I was supposed to attend in the morning, thank God, so there are no more meetings. I am taking my new client to dinner tonight, but I was hoping you’d accompany me to that.”
She brightened, flattered he thought her worthy enough. “Sure. I’d love to.”
He pressed his lips lightly to hers. But when she went to deepen it, he pulled back. “Wait. If we start that, I won’t want to stop. Tell me everything you did today first.”
“Oh!” she said, excited to share. “Here. I took pictures. Thank you for the camera, by the way. It was perfect.”
Braxton nodded distractedly, already flipping through her camera’s library. When he saw snapshots of the Eiffel Tower, his shoulders slumped. “Oh, man. You already went.”
Lifting her face, Lenna said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted to—”
He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I was just... never mind.”
“No,” she said, her face still filled with concern. “We can go again tomorrow.”
“But there’s so much you probably want to see. I don’t want you to have to repeat—”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“Lenna,” he said in a warning voice. “We’re not going.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes. We are. I wanted to go with you, anyway.”
Braxton gave up the argument with a sigh and forced her to keep showing him the pictures she’d taken.
“And here is the Musée du Louvre,” she said a few shots later.
“What’s that?” he asked, frowning at the small screen. Lenna sent him an amazed look.
When he finally lifted his eyes from the picture, he caught the expression. “What?”
“You’ve never heard of The Louvre? It’s only, like, one of the most famous museums in the world.”
“Oh,” was his casual reply.
Lenna snorted as his blasé answer. “The Louvre,” she repeated. “You know, the museum that holds the Mona Lisa?”
Finally, his eyes lit with recognition. “Ohhh. Wow, I didn’t know that painting was in France.”
Lenna once again found herself staring at him in disbelieving shock. “Where did you think it was?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. In the United States, I guess. Probably at the Smithsonian or some such place.”
Lenna rolled her eyes, but an amused gleam lit her face. “You are so American.”
“And proud of it,” he answered, winking.
* * * *
For dinner, Lenna wore the one fancy dress she’d packed. She started to worry it was too plain when she slipped it on. But as soon as she stepped from the bathroom, she realized it was perfect, mostly because of Braxton’s reaction to her when he saw her in it. He lifted his face and froze.
“You look...” He shook his head as if to clear the dirty thoughts from his brain. Then his eyes lifted to hers. “I’m going to have to kick a lot of French ass tonight to keep you at my side.”
She laughed and thanked him.
And she kept thanking him.
Whenever he opened a door for her or whenever he stepped aside to let her go first, she murmured her oh-so appreciative thanks. As soon as they entered the restaurant where they would be eating, she paused and glanced around the waiting area.
“Oh, Braxton,” she murmured, intimidated. “This place is spectacular.” She turned to him. “Thank you so much for—”
He cut her off by placing a finger over her lips. “You’re wearing me out, woman.”
Lenna frowned. “Huh?”
Laughing at her bewilderment, he added, “If I have to say ‘you’re welcome’ to one more of your ‘thank-yous’ tonight, my tongue is just going to plum fall off.”
Lenna winced. “Have I been overly grateful?”
He nodded. “Just a tad.” But then touched her cheek and grinned. “And I’m the one whose thankful and honored that you agreed to come here with me.”
Th
e maitre d’ appeared before she could respond. He led them to their table, where Braxton’s client already waited.
“Farris,” the man greeted, getting to his feet as Braxton and Lenna approached. He spoke English with a thick accent.
“Mr. Trousseau,” Braxton said, stretching out his hand. The men shook, and Braxton turned toward Lenna. “Lenna, this is Richard Trousseau of the Renault Automobile Company. He’s just signed on with Farris Industries to purchase our mufflers for their luxury vehicles.”
Lenna’s dimple appeared as the man turned toward her. “Enchanté,” she answered meekly when he took her hand and kissed the back of her fingers.
“And this is Lenna Davenport,” Braxton told Richard. “She came with me to tour Paris tomorrow.”
“Excellent,” Richard answered, continuing to hold Lenna’s fingers as he glanced at Braxton. “You said you would be bringing a dinner companion, Farris, but you forgot to mention she was so beautiful.”
“Vous êtes très gentil,” Lenna murmured, telling him he was very kind.
Richard turned to her in delighted surprise. “And you speak French,” he exclaimed.
“Lenna minored in it while she was in college,” Braxton announced, looking like a proud father.
Hearing that, Richard started off in a barrage of French. Lenna smiled and answered him in kind.
When he heard her reply, Richard threw back his head and laughed heartily.
“This flower you’ve brought me is a delight,” he informed Braxton happily and motioned toward their seats. “Now let us sit before they kick us out for loitering.”
Braxton pulled out a chair for Lenna. She started to thank him but caught herself and paused to guiltily meet his gaze. She could tell he knew exactly what she’d just about said. His eyes glittered with mirth, and his lips tightened with the effort to repress a gloating smirk.
“Merci,” she told him instead, refusing to be rude and not thank him in some fashion.
He chuckled as he took his own chair. The waiter, who’d been waiting for them to be seated, stepped forward and proceeded to rattle off the house wine of the day.
Lenna kept glancing at Braxton, but he avidly watched the waiter as if hanging off each syllable the man pronounced. She wanted to shake her head in amusement. Braxton looked, for all the world, like he understood every word the waiter spoke.
Finally, the waiter asked if they wanted to order their drinks. He turned immediately to Braxton with an expectant look. Braxton’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. Lenna could actually see his Adam’s apple slide up and then bob nervously back down his throat as he swallowed.
Having mercy on him, she leaned close and whispered. “He wants to know what you’d like to drink.”
Braxton lifted his eyes to the waiter. “Oh,” he murmured. Then he turned to Lenna. “Uh...water?”
She grinned and then transferred her attention back to their waiting attendant. “Est-ce que nous pourrions avoir de l’eau?”
The waiter nodded and then turned to Richard. As Mr. Trousseau requested his drink of choice, Braxton murmured into Lenna’s ear. “God, you’re good at that.”
Beaming, she lifted her chin. “I am, aren’t I?”
With a low chuckle, Braxton set his hand high on her thigh and squeezed lightly.
Their next obstacle came when the waiter passed out the menus. Braxton took one look at the foreign words and quickly whispered, “Lenna! Help.”
Beyond pleased he needed her so much, Lenna glowed. She covered his hand supportively. “Don’t worry. Just tell me what you’re hungry for.”
“A hamburger,” he moaned, nearly whining.
Lenna tightened her fingers sympathetically. Yeah, he was definitely American.
She scanned the list. “They don’t have hamburgers. What about, uh...” She checked the menu again. “Steak?”
He closed his eyes and sighed in relief. “God, yes! A nice juicy medium rare steak sounds like heaven.” Then he leaned closer, “They have French fries, right? I mean, come on. This is France. They gotta have fries.”
Lenna pursed her lips to fight her amusement. “They don’t call them French fries here.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, of course not. They’re probably just fries, right?”
Holding in a spurt of laughter, Lenna glanced away to keep the giggle in. God, he was cute when he was utterly clueless. “Actually, they’re called Pommes Frites.”
“Tell me, Miss Davenport,” Richard said, interrupting her and Braxton’s private exchange.
Lenna lifted her face, a little embarrassed that she’d actually forgotten he was present.
“What kind of work do you do in America?”
CHAPTER 15
Braxton was able to slip in a little business conversation with his client over dinner, but most of the night was spent listening to Richard and Lenna chat in French. To his ears, she sounded like a native. The language spilled from her lips as if she spoke it daily.
Richard repeatedly complimented her flawless delivery, and she continued to blush. It didn’t take long for Braxton to grow jealous because his client was a little too delighted by her, but mostly he remained satisfied with how well she’d enchanted the other man. Smug relief filled him when it was his arm she clung to as they left.
“Au revoir,” she called to Richard, waving and beaming as Braxton ushered her away.
God, he loved being with her. She thrilled him, and challenged him, and touched something inside that gave him a sense of power and elation.
As they sat huddled close together in the back seat of the cab on the return ride to their hotel, she rested her head on his shoulder.
He tightened his arm around her waist and lifted his hand to stroke her hair. “Tired?”
“No, not really,” she answered, even as she snuggled closer. “I’m overwhelmed. This is all just so exciting and exotic. I feel like a princess.”
Braxton grinned. “Like Cinderella again?”
“No, this is different. I must be Sleeping Beauty this time around because today has to be a dream.” She sighed and relaxed against him. “The most amazing dream ever.”
* * * *
When they arrived at the hotel, Lenna remembered not to thank Braxton as he held the door open for her. But she did give him a big, enticing smile as she passed. As he stared back, his eyelids grew heavy and his grin predatory.
Slipping his arm over her shoulder, he murmured into her hair, “I have to admit, listening to you talk French all night was definitely a turn on.”
They stopped at the entrance to their suite.
Braxton reached around her to unlock the door and let her precede him inside.
Lenna turned so she could face him. Walking backward into the room, she met his gaze and let out a husky laugh. “So, just how much did you like my French?”
His eyes lit with desire as he shut the door behind him and stalked toward her. “So much I’m glad Trousseau didn’t notice my raging hard on.”
Lenna giggled and coyly kept backing away but he snagged out a hand and caught her wrist.
“I’ve been hot and bothered all night,” he murmured, drawing her closer in order to kiss his way down her neck.
Lenna shut her eyes and sighed, tipping her face up to give him better access. “Pouvez-vou parler plus lentement, s’il vous plait,” she said huskily.
Braxton shivered. “God,” he groaned. “That sounds dirty. What’d you say?”
“I said, ‘please speak more slowly.’”
He threw back his head and laughed.
Lenna grabbed the front of his shirt and jerked him closer, wanting to run her tongue along his jaw. “Je voudrais une chamber avec sale de balcon,” she murmured in his ear and then nipped at the lobe with her teeth. “I’d like a room with a balcony. Est-ce qu’on peut nager ici sans danger?” she continued. “Is it safe to swim here?”
Braxton filled his hands with her hair. “I don’t need the translation,” he muttered in a thi
ck voice. “Just...keep going.”
Grinning, Lenna kissed her way down the side of his neck. “Pouvez-vous preparer ma note, s’il vous plait?” she murmured and kept saying inconsequential phrases that seemed to drive him mad.
As Braxton backed her toward the bed, she ached for that all-consuming burst of animation she knew he could give. She wanted to wrap herself around him and live in this moment for the rest of eternity.
She refused to think about what lay ahead of them after they returned from their trip. She didn’t want to remember how Braxton was her dirty little secret and she only added to his complications at work. She just wanted this.
So, she took it. She took Braxton into her mouth and sucked him until he cried out her name in a hoarse voice and begged to be inside her. She relented only because she desired it as much as he did.
Later, when Braxton was wrapped around her and their bare legs were tangled together under the warm sheets, he rested his cheek on her shoulder and idly stroked her hip.
“I love being here like this with you,” he murmured drowsily.
Without answering, she stared up at the sculpted ceiling and kept playing with tendrils of his hair. But she smiled wistfully.
“I don’t feel like I have to carry a world full of responsibilities on my shoulders when I’m in your arms. I can just...be.”
She tipped her face to the side to kiss his forehead. “It does feel incredibly right, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” He hugged her to him as if she were his favorite blankie and turned in toward her to return the kiss, placing his on her chest, right over her heart. “Nothing else has felt quite so...right.”
With a relinquishing sigh, he relaxed and his breathing changed, growing long and steady. He’d definitely put in too long of a day.
She continued to play with his hair but had to pause once to wipe away a stray tear. Being in his life caused him plenty of complications but knowing she eased his troubles was worth it. Promising herself she would remain worth it to him, she softly whispered, “Je t’adore,” as he slept deeply and peacefully in her arms.