by Ava Miles
He walked over to the window again. Chase was right. No one unauthorized was allowed into any highly secure Quid-Atch facilities. And that meant Evan’s lab.
“Okay, I made one mistake... I let her into my lab,” he admitted.
“You definitely breached security there.” Chase stormed across the room until they were on opposite sides of the couch. “What did she see?”
“Quit it with the interrogation, Chase,” Evan said, feeling tired now. Fighting with Chase was depressing and exhausting. “She didn’t see anything she understood, and none of it was secret. I’m running paint formulas. She even gave me some ideas on researching chemicals that remove paint.”
“You did more than share your new idea, Evan,” Chase ground out. “You brainstormed with her, and she’s not even an employee! If you’re going to do that, we’ll definitely need to get her to sign a non-disclosure. We might even need to hire her.”
“You’re being ridiculous, Chase,” Evan said even though his heart was rapping hard against his chest.
“Trust me, Evan,” Chase said, rubbing the back of his neck like he had a crick in it. “The men I just met in Berlin wouldn’t think so. Neither would our other defense clients.”
All of them were a paranoid lot, and for good reason. So were inventors. He used to be that way. “I’ll talk to Margie again and make sure she understands she needs to keep this quiet.”
“I don’t want you to have any more discussions with her about your ideas,” Chase said, striding across the room to the bar and pouring himself a Perrier. “And please don’t let her back into the lab.”
“I talked to legal about this because I knew it would make you more comfortable,” Evan admitted. “You’re my closest friend and the best business partner a man could have. Don’t ruin this, Chase. Margie isn’t the enemy, and I’ll…be better about observing protocols in the future.”
“You’ve never let any other woman in the lab, Evan,” Chase said. “What are you going to do when she leaves? You’re being irresponsible for a fling.”
“This isn’t a fling,” he said in a hard tone.
“Then what is it? You live here. She has a bakery to open in Dare Valley.” Chase poured him a glass of sparkling water and extended it.
Evan took it for the olive branch it was. “I’m trying not to think of her leaving, okay? Dammit! Why are you pushing me? I’ve…never felt like this about a woman.”
Chase shoved his hand in his pants pocket. “I know you haven’t. You’re in the big leagues now. I just want to make sure you understand that and act accordingly.”
“That means you want me to lead with mistrust,” Evan replied. “I’m not that jaded.”
“You were before,” Chase said, walking to the window. “She’s changing you. Be sure you want to be changed.”
His legs went weak, so he leaned back against the sofa. He was changing, but was it only because of her? No, he’d made that choice before meeting Margie, even before that fateful side bet with Jane and Rhett. It dated back to his trip to Greece—to seeing that statue of Artemis in that tiny Greek village and then shouting his wishes out across the sea.
Margie had only helped him remember what he already knew.
“I’m the one who’s choosing to change, Chase. And I like who I’m becoming.” Evan walked over and pushed the curtain farther back so he could look out the window next to his friend.
Chase’s hand rested on his shoulder for a minute like a father’s might, but then it fell away. “Good. That’s all I wanted to hear. And now that I know you’ll be more careful, I’m heading back to Berlin.”
Their duel felt like a draw. Chase hadn’t walked, and Evan felt more grounded now. Like the two parts of him, the geeky inventor and the billionaire, had just merged.
“Have a good trip,” Evan said as Chase walked in the direction of the entryway. “And don’t worry so much. I won’t let you down.”
His friend paused at the door to the hallway and looked over his shoulder. There was a mysterious smile on his face, one Evan didn’t completely understand. “You never have. Give Margie my regards. It’s too bad your time together will end when she leaves Paris. I might have wanted to meet her otherwise.”
If pouring him a glass of water had been an olive branch, those words might as well have been a complete surrender.
He followed Chase to the front door. “Have a good trip, old man.”
His friend had the audacity to laugh. “Next time cut the security feeds in the lab before you have a tete-a-tete,” he called over his shoulder.
“Shit!” He let the door slam and ran back to the lab. He’d forgotten about that. No wonder his friend had made an unscheduled stop in Paris. Seeing Margie in his lab must have freaked him out completely.
Two minutes later, he’d deleted the very racy scene of him and Margie making love.
Then he texted Chase. You better not have watched us.
His phone beeped immediately with a response. I have much more effective uses for my time.
Sitting down in an office chair, Evan leaned back and thought about their confrontation.
Chase was right. He had to be completely over the moon about Margie if he was breaking security protocols and acting irresponsibly. Now, he knew what he had to do. He didn’t want their time together to end. He was going to court her harder. Show her more of the kind of life he could offer her—within reason. She wasn’t ready to be swept away on a private helicopter to his yacht in the Med. But there were other things he could arrange—ones he knew she would like. Not all of them had to cost money.
He hoped to show her what Chase had only confirmed for him. This thing they shared was unique and special. And worth breaking the rules for.
And then he remembered his buddy’s mysterious smile. Maybe that’s why Chase had flown in from Berlin.
Apparently his mentor wasn’t finished guiding him—even when it came to love.
Chapter 5
“I have croissants,” she told Evan when he arrived at her apartment to pick her up. “They’re not perfect, but they taste good.”
He leaned down to kiss her. “Not as tasty as you, I expect.”
She narrowed her eyes at him when he drew back. “Don’t diss my croissants. My arms are already sore from all the rolling it took to make these babies.”
“Okay, I take that back,” he said, hands raised in defeat. “They may be tastier than you. Kiss me again so I can compare.”
“How many kisses will you need to make a scientific determination?” she asked in her best serious professor voice.
He made a show of thinking about it. “As a serious scientist, a great many, I have to tell you. We might need to have a bona fide Croissant and Kissing Taste Testing. It could take years to gather enough statistically significant data.”
Then he paused and gazed at her, and she could almost imagine them being together for years. Lines would appear around his eyes, and she would trace them and call them laugh lines because she’d brought laughter into his life. And he’d kiss her belly, still a little round after the birth of their kids.
“Margie,” he said softly.
His voice jarred her out of the reverie, and something sour rose up in its place. Their time together wasn’t going to last, she reminded herself. It couldn’t.
“Shall we go?” she asked, speaking a little too fast. “Or do you want to try my croissants now?”
“We need a better place to savor your first croissants,” he said, “and I know just where to take you.”
They left her flat, and she was happy to walk. People sat in cafés as picture perfect as a Parisian postcard. Some were sipping a coffee while others were drinking champagne. God, she loved this town.
Evan led her down the stairs to the hidden inlet where they’d first kissed. When he’d arrived at her flat, he’d kissed her sweetly and said, “This seems like the perfect place to sample your first croissants.”
He drew her under the willow trees like
he had that first night. A tourist waved at her from a passing boat, and she waved back smiling.
“Would you like a ride down the Seine? I never thought to ask you.”
“It probably isn’t something a local does,” she said, looking back at him. “But yes, I would love that.”
“Hmm,” he murmured. “I have an idea. Okay, but not now. Let’s eat your croissants.”
Crouching down, she sat on the stones under the willows and let her feet dangle over the side. The Seine flowed beneath her soles as she took the box from her purse and set it on her lap.
“I hope you enjoy my first croissants,” she said, taking one out and handing it to him when he sat down beside her.
“They’re beautiful,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Like you. Curvy. Tasty.”
She laughed. “Are you taste testing already?”
“Absolutely. I’m a serious scientist.” He bit into the bread and closed his eyes. “Margie, these are unforgettable. Like you.”
How was she supposed to leave him when he said things like that? Biting her lip to contain the well of emotion bubbling up inside her, she reached for her own croissant. Maybe the bread would comfort her. She needed that now.
“I love you,” Evan said in that deep, sure voice. “With all my heart.”
She looked over at him. “I love you too.” For right now, it had to be enough.
They ate her first croissants in silence with their legs dangling over the rushing river as the sun broke through a cloud and cast its warm rays on them.
That night he took her to a restaurant called Chez Dumonet. According to Evan, it was one of the hottest restaurants in the city with a jovial atmosphere few places could top. The prices made her blink, but he playfully grabbed her menu.
“Don’t make me take the menu away from you,” he said sternly, but there was real fear in his eyes.
“You’re right,” she heard herself say. “I fed you my croissants earlier, so we’re even.”
His shoulders seemed to relax after that. He talked her into trying the pigeon with him, and by the time they finished their meal, they’d also enjoyed a bottle of very expensive pink champagne.
That night, they made love in her place, and she felt like they had a good balance going.
He confirmed it the next day when he took her to the famous cemetery off the Avenue de la Chapelle where Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrison, Chopin, Edith Piaf, and others were buried. They strolled through the rows of faded tombstone markers hand in hand in the quiet.
Afterwards, they drove to Luxembourg Gardens in his Fiat. She still hadn’t asked him about his other cars. It seemed the safer route. After he pulled into a parking space, he opened the trunk and brought out his picnic basket and took her hand. Along the way, he stilled suddenly and stopped. She halted with him and looked in the direction that held his attention. In the center of the small courtyard, there was a sculpture of a beautiful woman with a deer by her side.
“Do you mind if we go closer?” he asked.
“Not at all,” she answered.
They crossed under an arbor of red roses. Dust from the gravel path rose in small clouds as they walked to the sculpture. The woman was over six feet tall, made of a white stone Margie didn’t recognize. In her hand was a bow, like she was hunting. Except the deer wasn’t her target.
“I don’t understand,” she told Evan. “She has a bow, but she’s not shooting the deer.”
“No,” he said, “the deer is her companion. That’s the Greek goddess Artemis. Or Diana in Roman mythology.”
“You’re pretty up on your mythology for a scientist,” she said.
“We’ve…ah… this is going to sound crazy.” He made a face. “Okay, we’ve pretty much established I can be a little crazy. I’ve been seeing her everywhere since I was in Greece a few months ago. I kinda asked for her to help me get my creative fire back.”
She took his hand. “And you took it as a sign. Don’t be embarrassed. I believe in them too even though it’s a little woo-woo.”
He laughed. “Woo-woo. Chase would call it that. I definitely have not told him about my Artemis encounters or my belief in the hand of fate, but I know it’s helped bring back my creative fire. And I know it brought me to you.”
She turned away from her study of the statue. “Then I want to leave her something to thank her.” She took the picnic basket from his hands and reached inside for one of the croissants she’d baked earlier.
Setting it at the base of the statue, she patted the woman’s feet. “Thank you,” she whispered.
His arms came around her then, and he gripped her hard for a moment. She knew he was fighting strong emotion. So was she.
When they found a patch of grass to settle on off the gravel path where pedestrians walked, they feasted on more of her fresh croissants, some marvelous brie, saucisson, and foie gras. They drank the whole bottle of pink champagne he’d brought, and when he asked if she wanted to come back to his place, she was a little tipsy. And it was so easy to smile and accept the invitation without overthinking it.
They made love that night in his bed, and as she fell asleep with his arms around her, she realized she was becoming used to living in some of the places in his world.
***
As each day passed, Evan became more aware of the clock ticking, and it created a rabid urgency in him to make the most of each moment. He revised his Courtship Schedule to express all the love he had for her, all the gifts he wanted to lavish on her now that she was more accustomed to the idea of his wealth.
Chase’s contact at the French Ministry of Defense was able to arrange an after-hours private evening at the Louvre. Margie was tense when she realized they were the only people in the museum other than the few docents available for their questions.
“Evan,” she said in that measured voice she always used when talking about his money. “A private tour like this must have cost a fortune. I told you I didn’t want you to do that. I would have been happy to come during regular hours.”
But he was prepared for her objection, so he was able to smile. “This tour was free, so there’s no way you can get upset over it.”
Her raised brow told him she was dubious.
“I’m serious,” he said. “We work with the French government, so this is like you giving me your bread in exchange for me taking you to dinner somewhere special. It’s an even trade.”
She was silent for so long, standing in the museum floodlights, his heart hurt.
“We can go if you want,” he made himself say.
“No,” she said and seemed to shake it off. “You arranged this, so let’s enjoy it.”
When she raced down the halls all the way to the Mona Lisa, her eyes alight with joy, he knew it was going to be okay. He was easing her into the life he could offer her. She would come to see that any lavishness on his part was simply because he loved her so much and wanted to make her happy.
Breathless from chasing her, he finally managed to convince her to take a selfie with him in front of da Vinci’s most famous painting. He knew he would always treasure that picture, but he had a better one in mind. He led her to the Venus de Milo and made her pose for a picture, saying he now had two Venuses to admire. This picture was the one he was going to frame and put in his lab.
Since she’d ultimately embraced their evening at the Louvre, the next night he took her on the next adventure on the Courtship Schedule: a private cruise along the Seine. His ship, The Spell Caster, was too large for the river, so he’d had one of his assistants at Quid-Atch find him another boat to rent for the evening.
“I’m taking you on the boat ride you wanted,” he said as they walked down the worn stone steps leading down to the pedestrian walkway along the Seine where the boats were moored.
“You are?” she asked, bouncing up and down like she had on the bed nights ago. She was radiant in a red dress.
“I am,” he said, leaning down to kiss her on the top of her head.
; The boat seemed to sparkle white as they stepped aboard. The brass work had been polished bright, and Margie looked around as if taking everything in. He followed the first mate of the boat to the white-covered table near the edge of the railing overlooking the river. Paris’ golden lights illuminated the bridges ahead of them, and the city exuded the warm glow for which it was so famous. He pulled out Margie’s seat for her and then took his own. She seemed to tense as soon as she realized they were alone.
“Are we eating early or something?” she asked, gesturing to the empty deck.
The skin between his shoulder blades tightened, but he gripped her hand and smiled. “I thought we might enjoy something more private,” he said as the boat pulled away from its docking.
“This is your boat, isn’t it?” she asked, biting her lip.
Suddenly his jacket was too constricting, so he shrugged out of it. “No, I only rented it for the evening. We’re going to have so much fun.”
When she glanced away, he could tell she was struggling, but he squeezed her hand and didn’t let go until her tension seemed to pass. When she turned back to him, she gave a tentative smile. He was finally able to breathe again.
The chef and wait staff he’d hired did a phenomenal job. She’d oohed and ahed over the appetizer of foie gras with fresh plums, and by the time the dessert of a chocolate bombe arrived, the tightness he’d experienced in his throat earlier in the evening was completely gone. They watched the sights of Paris go by, and when her hand rose to caress his chest, he turned her to him and fitted his mouth to hers. That night, he went back to her place and made love to her until they were too weak to move, and after sleeping for a few hours, he walked her to the bakery and left her with a sweet kiss on the street.
Suddenly their time together was coming to a close, and he found himself fine-tuning his plans for her last evening in Paris. Everything seemed fraught with new possibilities, and he made a decision that would surely change his life forever. He was ready to see it through like a man. Chase would be proud of him, he hoped.
