by Dani Collins
“A highly creative one,” he assured smoothly. “Ask around. Although it sounds like you already have. You’re doing all the hotels in Europe?”
“I—um, what?” That creative remark had thrown her, which had been his intention, she was sure. “No, I only have English and French and, um, can’t be away longer than three weeks.”
She and Zoey wouldn’t starve if he fired her, she reminded herself. The knowledge calmed her nerves. She wouldn’t even lose her house, and she always had the fallback plan of moving in with her ex-mother-in-law, which would suit Zoey just fine because she loved the farm. She’d been beside herself that she would stay with her grandma for three weeks. No, this was a minor, very awkward speed bump that Natalie would get over as quickly as possible.
“I’ve always wanted to travel, so...” She cleared her throat as she realized that was too much information and headed back to bare facts. “They’re trying to implement before the end of the year. There’s a whole team. One person couldn’t do it all.”
“So you’re here to work and see the sights. Not have an affair. That’s what you’re telling me?”
“Yes.” From somewhere deep in her subconscious, a fresh blush rose. “Of course I’m here to work.” Maybe she had thought this trip was her chance to have a grown-up affair away from her daughter’s impressionable eyes, but that was very much a midnight fantasy and not something she intended to pursue. This trip might be the opportunity to cast off responsibility and act like a single woman instead of a struggling mom with bills and a flake for an ex, but she’d settle for a date with someone she wouldn’t have met otherwise.
He didn’t need to know any of that though.
Her cheeks stayed hot and hurting, nevertheless. It wasn’t easy to meet his gaze and pretend a full-fledged affair was completely off the table, especially when there was a knowing glint teasing crinkles into the corners of his eyes.
“Even if I was looking for romance,” she blurted. “Which I’m not, I’d hardly start with the owner of the company, would I?”
“I don’t know. Would you? Let’s have dinner tonight and talk about it.”
Her stomach swooped and her heart stopped, as though she’d hit an unexpected wall.
That’s how it’s done. She’d been observing, trying to crack the code of dating and casual invitations. It had seemed complicated, but he made it look easy.
Practice, she surmised cynically.
But go out with him? Impossible. Her heart restarted, pounding with sudden panic, partly because, well, look at him. He was gorgeous and obviously knew his way around the entire city, not just the block.
Danger. If she could have escaped this airless room crowded with empty desks, she would have.
Somehow she managed to hang on to her composure and scoff, “Is that a test? I realize Theo— And yes, at this level we all refer to your family by your first names when you’re not around to hear it.” She encompassed the ground floor with a sweep of her splayed hand in a flat circle. “Theo might have married a woman who once worked as a chambermaid, but we’re all well aware that was an exception. I have no such ambitions. You’re quite safe from me, and so are the rest of the men in your family.”
There. She folded her arms to close the topic.
He folded his, bunching those gorgeous shoulders in a way that made her throat go dry. “You’re funny,” he said.
“I’m completely serious!”
“I know. That’s why it’s funny. Calling marriage to any of us an ambition is hysterical.” He didn’t laugh. He only gave his mouth an ironic twist, which drew her notice to the shape of his lips. The lower was fuller than the top one, but the upper had a shallow space between the two peaks, perfect for a fingertip. The corners of his mouth extended into short, deep lines that gave him that look of being perpetually amused by the lives of the mortals around him.
His smile grew and he jerked his chin in a nudge of insistence, voice pitched intimately low, filled with knowledge that she was responding to him. “Have dinner with me, Natalie.”
She was mooning. And he’d noticed. Of course he had. He was a serial pickup artist. Where were the natural disasters when you needed them? It was definitely time for the earth to open up and suck her underground.
“Dating among coworkers is frowned upon,” she managed, delighted to have found both the excuse and a steady voice. “I’m sorry you thought I was making a play for your brother-in-law, but I’m highly cognizant of company policy and have no intention of violating it, even if he were available. Now, if we’re finished, I really should get back to work.”
“You’re sorry for my mistake? This really is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Come on. Dinner. It will be my apology.” He splayed his straight fingers against his wide chest. A gorgeous chest, she was sure. He looked like he worked out. Often. His physique distracted her from how suddenly he’d turned on the charm. “Where’s the harm in the boss taking an out-of-town employee to dinner? It’s networking,” he cajoled.
“Is that what it would be?” She couldn’t help her snort of laughter. She’d thought he was merely a playboy, but he made the sharing of his favors sound like some kind of a job perk.
His expression changed slightly as she laughed, becoming less arrogant as his regard sharpened with male interest and something more acute, as though he was reassessing her. It made her think she might be holding her own in this match of wits, surprising him.
Which gave her a thrill that she did her best to ignore.
“Look, I’m flattered,” she rushed to say, glancing away so he wouldn’t see how flattered. As sophisticated as she dreamed of being, she wasn’t prepared for someone like him. “But I’ve seen the women you date and I’m not in their league. Which, by the way, is another reason I would never set my sights on your brother-in-law. So thank you for this extremely interesting conversation, but I need to get back to work. I don’t want to get fired,” she added pointedly.
“Not in their league?” he repeated, frowning in disagreement as he gave her yet another thorough assessment in a way that set her alight. Her entire body actually hurt from the blood rush that prickled through her.
She’d starved herself and worked out like mad before leaving Montreal, determined that if any sort of corporate limelight fell upon her—or any sexy Frenchmen—she’d have nothing to be insecure about. Nevertheless, she experienced a pang of insecurity under his review, worried she wasn’t up to standard.
He dragged his gaze back up to hers and let her see undisguised male desire.
Tingling excitement encompassed her. It wasn’t exactly confidence, but it wasn’t uncertainty, either. It was a delicious and involuntary “yes, please” that scared the hell out of her.
“You’re very much in an elite league of your own, Natalie. Or are you making excuses to spare my feelings? It would surprise me if you are. You don’t strike me as someone who would bother. Not considering the frankness we’ve already arrived at.”
That made her chuckle drily, but she suppressed it with a sheepish dip of her chin. “You’re right. But read my personnel file, Mr. Makricosta—”
“Demitri,” he corrected.
“I don’t live nearly as fast as you do. Demitri.” She tried to make her voice diffident and amused, but Demitri was a surprisingly erotic name for a man with an American accent. “If I thought you were issuing a genuine invitation—and one that was only for dinner,” she added with a you-can’t-fool-me look. “I would be tempted. My coworkers here have families to go home to. It would be refreshing not to eat alone. But I suspect you’re mocking me. Or maybe punishing me for said frankness?”
He was taken aback by that. “Why wouldn’t I want to take you out? You’re beautiful, amusing and you have a pretty laugh.”
The sincerity in his tone made her heart swing inside her chest, dipping and lifting in a way that made her set a hand on the edge of her desk for balance. She grappled for humor to deflect how thoroughly his simple complime
nt disarmed her.
“And you want to hear that laugh in bed?” she challenged.
“Ha!” His chuckle was surprised and real, his grin appreciative before it turned hot and hungry. His gaze closed around her like a fist.
“I’ll have the car brought to the curb for seven.”
CHAPTER TWO
DON’T BOTHER.
That was all she’d had to say before he had winked and left her alone in her office. She could have chased him down, although she’d kept her eye out for him the rest of the day, filled with misgivings, but hadn’t seen him. The intercompany email was the simplest option. It didn’t even require the awkwardness of explaining herself. All she would have had to type was I can’t make it.
She hadn’t.
Why not?
Oh, she’d come up with dozens of rationalizations including, “it’s only dinner.” She was lonely and homesick. Travel for work wasn’t as glamorous as she’d expected, especially without someone to share stories with, and calling Zoey twice a day wasn’t nearly enough. She was used to her daughter disappearing for a weekend with her father up to the farm, but going on ten days without being able to hug her girl was a form of slow torture.
Therefore, she reasoned, she was entitled to a night out on the company that had separated them. She’d already put in tons of extra hours on this project. She and Demitri would probably talk about work anyway. She certainly wasn’t looking at this as a real date. Definitely not one where she might get lucky.
She shaved her legs anyway. Then put on the sexy black underwear she’d bought here in Paris and topped it with a black lace sheath over a black slip. She stepped into the heels she’d picked up at the consignment store before leaving Montreal, the ones she’d debated whether to bring at all because they were too high to be practical for anything less than a night on the town. With her fake diamond earrings winking from behind the fall of her freshly washed hair and her makeup more dramatic than usual, she was as date-worthy as she’d ever been.
Then she stood at the curb like an idiot for ten minutes.
Wow. What a prince. And she had developed quite a jerk radar after her brief marriage and lengthy attempt to finalize her divorce. Well, she’d wanted a taste of the dating scene. Who knew it was this bitter? But it was exactly this well-honed resentment of thoughtless men that steeled her spine and made her demand better for herself whenever she had offers back home.
Pivoting to go back inside the hotel, she entered the rotating doors as Demitri entered them from the inside. She ignored him as she passed him and kept walking into the lobby.
“Hey!” he circled back to call after her. “Natalie. Wait.”
“I was stood up,” she said over her shoulder, then paused to swing around and level a glare at him. “Lesson learned. If that was your intention. Good night.” She swung back toward the elevators.
“I stood at your door thinking the same thing.”
She checked her step. Turned to search his expression. He looked annoyed, not smug or smarmy. She didn’t want to believe him, too aware that giving men the benefit of the doubt was an invitation to be walked over.
“You said to meet you at the curb,” she reminded him coolly. Her entire body prickled with awareness that the front desk and bell staff could see them, if not hear them.
“No, I said the car would be there.” He came even with her and scowled. “What kind of men have you dated that they pick you up on the sidewalk?”
That gave her pause. For all her ideals, she still expected the very worst from men. Maybe she ought to give Demitri more credit.
He offered his arm, gaze still vaguely hostile.
After a brief hesitation, she transferred her pocketbook to her other hand and tucked her fingers into the crook of his elbow, nervous now because she wasn’t sure how to take him. Was he one of the few good ones after all?
With his reputation?
He skimmed a glance down her front to where her dress was revealed by her open raincoat. “I’ll forgive you for underestimating me since you look so lovely,” he commented.
It wasn’t the most extravagant compliment, kind of backhanded in the way he suggested she was seeking his forgiveness, but she warmed under his words. And couldn’t help taking a visual snapshot of him in his black pants and black buttoned shirt under a smoky gray suede jacket that was so buttery soft it made her want to caress his arm. He smelled fantastic, too, all spicy and masculine, jaw shiny where he’d freshly shaved.
They turned more than a few heads walking out to the car, but she doubted it was because they made such a striking couple. She’d have to make a point of mentioning how innocuous this evening had been when training her coworkers over the next few days. He’d been just being nice, she’d stress. Even though she doubted a man like Demitri went out of his way to be nice. She suspected he was ruled by self-interest, and most of his interest was banked below his belt.
For the moment, however, she set all that aside and concentrated on not smiling like an idiot because she was on a date. With a handsome man. This was exactly what she’d hoped for from this off-site assignment, and it astonished her that it was happening. Her neglected femininity had been desperate for male attention and glowed with pleasure at getting some.
They didn’t talk much in the limo. Her fault as she took in the color and lights of Paris. The restaurant was only a short drive anyway, a distance she would have walked in Montreal, even in this blustery fall weather and wearing these neck-breaking shoes. They were shown to a table with a stunning view of Notre Dame and the Seine. She tried not to gawk as they moved through the dining room, but along with gorgeous detailing that spoke of France’s rich history, the place was loaded with movie stars. There were probably athletes and politicians, too, not that she would recognize them. Demitri seemed to have a nodding acquaintance with almost everyone in the room, but didn’t stop to speak to anyone.
“Shall I order for you?” he asked as the maître d’ left them.
“What kind of men have I dated that dared to let me read the menu myself? As if a woman could,” she scoffed lightly.
“This is why I asked. Some of you feminists find it condescending.”
“And you see it as chivalry?”
“I had an old-world upbringing,” he stated with a ring of pride in his tone. “But I also like to know my date is ordering something I’d like to eat, since she won’t finish it,” he added with a supercilious lift at the corner of his mouth.
“Ha! You don’t know me very well, do you?”
“I’m working on it,” he assured her with a look that reached across and held.
“You read my personnel file?” she challenged, heart skipping. He knew about Zoey? Her breath stopped.
“Too easy,” he dismissed, leaning forward in a way that seemed to catch her in a magnetic field that pulled her into him. “I like a more personal approach.”
So he didn’t know she had a daughter. Natalie toyed with the idea of blurting it out, but didn’t want to cool the sizzle between them. It was too exciting, playing with this particular fire.
“I’ll bet you do.” Her voice came out papery and soft. He probably knocked women over with gently blown kisses. Her pulse was racing and her skin glowing hot from the inside. The way the banter lobbed back and forth between them entranced her, but he was an expert, she reminded herself. This wasn’t anything so grand as chemistry.
“If you think I’m such a womanizer, why are you here?” he asked, eyes narrowed to hide what he was thinking.
“Honestly?” She schooled herself not to look or sound desperate, even though she was bordering on despair where men and relationships were concerned. “I live like a shut-in, working from home a lot of the time. I’ll never get another chance to dine like the one percent and, quite frankly, you hit the nail on the head about the men I date. I thought I’d see what it’s like to be the girl for a change.”
He raised his brows.
“Let you hold the door f
or me,” she explained. “Pay. Even though I know it’ll really be the company paying. But you do know this is only dinner, right? I work for you.”
“You work for my brother,” he stated firmly, not thrown off his stride at all by her bluntness. “IT falls under finance. I head up marketing.” Despite his affable tone his gaze was dead level as he added, “My threats earlier were empty. I have no authority to fire you. By the same token, I have no way of helping you advance. If this turns into more than dinner, there’s no professional advantage for you.”
The warning pushed her back into her seat, putting her in her place. Yet she was strangely relieved. Embarrassed, yet amused.
“Look at all we’ve got on the table and we haven’t even ordered,” she said with a pert lift of her brows.
* * *
Demitri released a “Ha,” and looked away, astounded by how thoroughly this woman was keeping him on his toes. Fortunately the waiter arrived to advise them of the evening’s specials.
“Please,” Natalie said when Demitri glanced at her. “Order for me. I’m curious.”
He nodded in satisfaction even though his brain was barely able to pull it together to order at all, only managing to choose the starters with a suitable wine before he turned back to her, trying not to fall into her spell like a fisherman off a boat.
When had she hooked him? That first laugh? The doe-eyed virgin look when he’d asked to speak to her? Definitely by the time she’d cut him down to size with a few swings of her rapier tongue, he’d been curious. Everyone loved him. Instantly and thoroughly. Even his family only acted irritated as they made every effort to draw him further inside the fold. Hell, women he slept with and left within hours remained affectionate and syrupy when he crossed paths with them later.
But not Natalie. He didn’t think it was an act, either. She’d been furious and insulted by his accusations today, then mistrustful and apprehensive of his invitation to dinner. When she hadn’t answered her door, he’d been stunned. No one rejected him, no matter what he did. And he searched for the line at every opportunity.
