Читать книгу It Happened in Paris... - Robin Gianna - Страница 9

CHAPTER ONE

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JACK DUNBAR STUDIED the map in his hand, trying to figure out where the heck he was in this city of two million people. He was determined not to waste his first hours in Paris, and never mind that he’d only had a few hours of sleep while folded into an airplane seat, couldn’t speak French and had no idea how to get around.

But, hey, a little adventure never hurt anyone. Even getting lost would be a welcome distraction from thinking about the presentation he had to give tonight. The presentation that would begin the new phase of his career he’d worked so hard for. The presentation that would launch the newest medical device, hopefully save lives and change forever the way heart-valve replacement surgery was performed.

Before any sightseeing, though, the first thing on his list was coffee and a little breakfast. Jack stepped into the hotel restaurant and saw that a huge buffet was set up just inside the open doors. Silver chafing dishes, mounds of breads and cheeses, fruits and you-name-it covered an L-shaped table, but the thought of sitting there eating a massive breakfast alone wasn’t at all appealing. He approached the maître d’. “Excuse me. Is there just a small breakfast I can grab somewhere?”

“Voilà!” The man smiled and waved his arm at the buffet with a flourish. “Le petit déjeuner!”

Jack nearly laughed. If that was the small breakfast, he’d hate to see a big one. “Thank you, but I want just coffee and something quick. What’s nearby?”

“Everything you could wish for is right here, monsieur.”

“Yes, I see that, but—”

“I know a little place that’s just what you’re looking for,” a feminine voice said from behind him. “When in France, eat like the French do. And that spread in there is most definitely meant for Americans.”

He turned, and a small woman with the greenest eyes he’d ever seen stood there, an amused smile on her pretty face. He smiled back, relieved that someone might actually steer him in the right direction, and that she not only spoke English, but sounded like she was American, too. “That’s exactly what I want. To immerse myself in French culture for a while. And soon, because I need a cup of coffee more than I need oxygen right now.”

Those amazing eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes, sparkled as her smile grew wider. “Caffeine is definitely the number one survival requirement. Come on.”

Leaving barely a second for him to thank the unhelpful maître d’, she wrapped her hand around his biceps and tugged him toward the door and out into the chilly January streets of Paris. “Just down the street is the perfect café. We can get coffee and a baguette, then we’ll be good to go.”

We? Jack had to grin at the way she’d taken over. Not that he minded. Being grabbed and herded down the street by a beautiful woman who obviously knew a little about Paris was a pleasure he hadn’t expected, but was more than happy about.

“I’m Avery, by the way.”

“Jack.” He looked at her and realized her unusual name went well with a very unusual woman. A woman who took a perfect stranger down the street to a coffee shop as though she’d known him for days instead of seconds. A red wool hat was pulled onto her head, covering lush dark brown hair that spilled from beneath it. A scarf of orange, red and yellow was wrapped around her neck and tucked inside a short black coat, and tight-fitting black pants hugged her shapely legs. On her feet she wore yellow rain boots with red ducks all over them, and a purple umbrella was tucked under her arm. Dull she most definitely was not.

“Nice to meet you, Jack.” Her smile was downright dazzling. The morning looked a whole lot brighter than it had a few moments ago, despite the sky being as gray as pencil lead. “How do you like your coffee? American style? If you really want to be French, you’ll have to drink espresso. But I won’t judge you either way.”

Her green eyes, filled with a teasing look, were so mesmerizing he nearly stumbled off the curb when they crossed the street. “Somehow I think that’s a lie. And while I can handle being judged, I like espresso.”

“I knew you were a man after my own heart.”

He’d be willing to bet a lot of men were after her heart and a whole lot more.

The little coffee shop smelled great, and he followed Avery to the counter. She ordered in French, and the way the words slipped from her tongue, it sounded to him like she spoke the language nearly like a native.

“You ordered, so I’m paying,” he said.

“That’s what I was hoping for. Why else did you think I brought you along?”

“And here I thought it was my good looks and sophistication.”

“I did find that, combined with your little-boy-lost look, irresistible, I must admit.”

He chuckled. Damned if she wasn’t about the cutest woman he’d been around in a long time. They took their baguettes and tiny cups of espresso to a nearby tall table and stood. Jack nearly downed his cup of hot, strong coffee in one gulp. “This is good. Just what I needed. Except there isn’t nearly enough of it.”

“I know. And I even ordered us double shots. I always have to get used to the tiny amounts of espresso they serve when I’m in Europe. We Americans are used to our bottomless cups of coffee.”

“Are you here as a tourist? With friends?” Jack couldn’t imagine she was traveling alone, but hoped she was. Maybe they could spend some time together, since he’d be in Paris for an entire month. With any luck, she was living here.

“I’m in Paris to work, and I’m alone. How about you?”

“Me, too. Working and alone. But I do have a few hours to kill today. Any chance you’ll show me around a little in exchange for me buying lunch?”

“We’re eating breakfast, and you’re already thinking about lunch?” More of that teasing look, and he found himself leaning closer to her. Drawn to her. “I’ve already proved I plan my friendships around who’ll buy. So the answer is yes.”

He smiled. Maybe this great start to his trip to Paris was a good omen. “Where to first? I know nothing about Paris except the Eiffel Tower, which I know is close because I saw it from the hotel.”

“Paris is a wonderful city for walking. Even though it’s cold today and may well rain. Or even snow. Let’s walk toward the Seine and go from there. If we hit the tower early, we’ll avoid some of the crazy lines.”

“There are lines this time of year? I didn’t think there would be many tourists.”

“There are always tourists. Not as many in January and February as in spring and summer, but still plenty. Lots come to celebrate Valentine’s Day in Paris. Romantic, you know?”

He didn’t, really. Sure, he’d had women in his life, some briefly and some for a little longer. But, like his father in the past and his brother now, his life was about work. Working to help patients. Working to save people like his grandfather, who’d had so much to live for but whose heart had given out on him far too soon.

Avery finished her last bite of bread and gathered up her purse and umbrella, clearly ready to move on.

“I don’t suppose they give little to-go cups of espresso, do they?” he asked.

“You suppose right,” she said with a grin. “The French don’t believe in multitasking to quite the same degree we do. They’d shake their heads at crazy Americans who eat and drink while walking around the city.”

“I’ll have to get a triple shot at lunch, then,” he said as they stood. He resisted the urge to lick the last drop from his cup, figuring Avery wouldn’t be too impressed. Might even come up with an excuse not to take him to the Eiffel Tower, and one drop of coffee wasn’t anywhere near worth that risk.

They strolled down cobbled streets and wide walks toward the tower, Avery’s melodic voice giving him a rundown of various sights as they strolled. Not overly chatty, just the perfect combination of information and quiet enjoyment. Jack’s chest felt light. Spending this time with her had leeched away all the stress he’d been feeling, all the intense focus on getting this study off the ground, to the exclusion of everything. How had he gotten so lucky as to have her step into his first day in France exactly when he’d needed it?

“That’s L’Hôtel des Invalides,” she said, pointing at a golden building not too far away. “Napoleon is buried there. I read that they regilded the dome on the anniversary of the French Revolution with something like twenty pounds of gold. And I have to wonder. Wouldn’t all that gold have been better used to drape women in jewelry?”

“So you like being draped in gold?” He looked at the silver hoops in her ears and silver bangles on her wrist. Sexy, but not gold, and not over the top in any way.

“Not really. Though if a man feels compelled to do that, who am I to argue?” She grinned and grasped his arm again. “Let’s get to the tower before the crowds.”

She picked up the pace as they walked the paths crisscrossing a green expanse in front of the tower. Considering how cold it was, a surprising number of people were there snapping pictures and standing in line as they approached. “Are you afraid of heights?”

“Who, me? I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Everyone’s afraid of something.” Her smiling expression faded briefly into seriousness before lightening again. “Obviously, the Eiffel Tower is super tall, and the elevators can be claustrophobic even while you’re thinking how scary it is to be going so high. I’ll hold your hand, though, if you need me to.”

“You know, I just might be afraid after all.”

She laughed, and her small hand slid into his. Naturally. Just like it belonged there.

“Truth? I get a little weirded out on the elevator,” she said in a conspiratorial tone. “So if I squeeze your hand too tight, I’m sorry.”

“I’m tough, don’t worry.”

“I bet you are.” She looked up at him with a grin. “The lines aren’t too bad, but let’s take the stairs anyway.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “The stairs?”

“You look like you’re probably fit enough.” Her green eyes laughed at whatever the heck his expression was. “But we don’t take them all the way to the top. Just to the second level, and we’ll grab the elevator there. Trust me, it’s the best way to see everything, especially on a day like today, when it gets cloudier the higher you go.”

“So long as we don’t have to spend the entire day climbing, I’m trusting you, Ms. Tour Guide. Lead the way.” The stairs were surprisingly wide and the trek up sent his heart beating faster and his breath shorter. Though maybe that was just from being with Avery. For some inexplicable reason, she affected him in a way he couldn’t quite remember feeling when he first met a woman.

They admired the views from both the first and second levels, Avery pointing out various landmarks, before they boarded the glass elevator. People were mashed tightly inside, but Jack didn’t mind being forced to stand so close to Avery. To breathe in her appealing scent that was soft and subtle, a mix of fresh air and light perfume and her.

The ride most definitely would challenge anyone with either of the fears Avery had mentioned, the view through the crisscrossed metal of the tower incredible as they soared above Paris. On the viewing platform at the top, the cold wind whipped their hair and slipped inside Jack’s coat, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to try to keep her warm.

“You want to look through the telescope? Though we won’t be able to see too far with all the clouds,” she said, turning to him. Her cheeks were pink, her beautiful lips pink, too, and, oh, so kissable. Her hair flew across her face, and Jack lifted his fingers to tuck it beneath her hat, because he couldn’t resist feeling the softness of it between his fingers.

“I want to look at you, mostly,” he said, because it was true. “But I may never get up here again, so let’s give it a try.”

Her face turned even more pink at his words before she turned to poke a few coins in the telescope. They took turns peering through it, and her face was so close to his he nearly dipped his head to kiss her. Starting with her cheek, then, if she didn’t object, moving on from there to taste her mouth. Their eyes met in front of the telescope, and her tongue flicked out to dampen her lips, as if she might be thinking of exactly the same thing.

He stared in fascination as her pupils dilated, noting flecks, both gold and dark, within the emerald green of her eyes. He slowly lowered his head, lifted his palm to her face and—

“Excuse me. You done with the telescope?” a man asked, and Avery took a few steps back.

“We’re all done,” she said quickly. The heat he hoped he’d seen in her expression immediately cooled to a friendly smile. “Ready to go, Jack? I think we’ve seen all there is to see from up here today.”

Well, damn. Kissing her in the middle of that crowd wasn’t the best idea anyway, but even the briefest touch of her lips on his would have been pretty sweet, he knew. “I’m ready.”

They crammed themselves onto the elevator once more, though it wasn’t quite as packed as it had been on the way up. He breathed in her scent again as he tucked a few more strands of hair under her hat. “Thanks for bringing me up here. That was amazing.” She was amazing. “So what now, Ms. Tour Guide? Time for lunch?”

“There you go, thinking about food again.” She gave him one of her cute, teasing looks. “But I admit I’m getting a little hungry, too. There’s a great place just a little way along the river I like. There will be a few different courses, but don’t worry—it won’t break your wallet.”

He didn’t care what it cost. Getting to spend a leisurely lunch with Avery was worth a whole lot of money.

They moved slowly down a tree-lined path by the river, and he felt the most absurd urge to hold her hand again. As though they’d known each other a lot longer than an hour or two. Which reminded him he still hardly knew anything about her at all. “Do you live here? You obviously speak French well,” he said.

“My parents both worked in France for a while, and I went to school here in Paris for two years. You tend to learn a language fast that way. I’m just here for a month or so this time.”

“What do you do?”

“I— Oh!” As though they’d stepped out from beneath a shelter, heavy sheets of rain mixed with thick, wet snowflakes suddenly poured on their heads, and Avery fumbled with her umbrella to get it open. It was small, barely covering both their heads. Jack had to hunch over since she was so much shorter than him as, laughing, they pressed against one another to try to stay dry.

He maneuvered the two of them under a canopy of trees lining the river and had to grin. The Fates were handing him everything today, including a storm that brought him into very close contact with Avery. Exactly where he wanted to be.

He lifted his finger to slip a melting snowflake from her long lashes. “And here I’d pictured Paris as sunny, with beautiful flowers everywhere. I didn’t even know it snowed here.”

“You can’t have done your homework.” Her voice was breathy, her mouth so close to his he got a little breathless, too. “It rains and snows here a lot. Parisians despise winter with a very French passion.”

He didn’t know about French passion. But hadn’t Avery said when in France, do as the French do? He more than liked the idea of sharing some passion with Avery. “I’m not a big fan of winter, either, when snow and ice make it harder getting to and from work.”

“Ah, that sounds like you must be a workaholic.” She smiled, her words vying for attention with the pounding rain on the nylon above them.

“That accusation would probably be accurate. I spend pretty much all my time at work.”

“I must have caught you at a good moment, then, since you’re sightseeing right now. Or, at least, we were sightseeing before we got stuck in this.”

“You did catch me at a good moment.” Maybe the romantic reputation of Paris was doing something to him, because he lifted his hands to cup her cheeks. Let his fingers slip into her hair that cascaded from beneath her hat. After all, what better place to kiss a beautiful woman than under an umbrella by the Seine in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower? “I’m enjoying this very good moment.”

Her eyes locked with his. He watched her lips part, took that as the invitation he was looking for and lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss was everything he’d known it would be. Her sexy lips had tormented him the entire time they’d been together in that elevator and standing close to one another on the observation deck. Hell, they’d tormented him just minutes after they’d met as he’d watched her nibble her baguette and sip her espresso. He could still faintly taste the coffee on her lips and an incredible sweetness that was her alone.

He pulled back an inch, to see how she was feeling about their kiss. If she thought it was as amazing as he did. If she’d be all right with another, longer exploration. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks a deep pink as she stared at him, but thankfully she didn’t pull away and he went back for more.

He’d intended to keep it sweet, gentle, but the little gasp that left her mouth and swirled into his own had him delving deeper, all sense of anything around them gone except for the unexpected intimacy of this kiss they were sharing. Her slim hand came up to cradle his neck. It was cold, and soft, and added another layer of delicious sensation to the moment, and he had to taste more of her rain-moistened skin. Wondered if she’d possibly let him taste more than her face and throat. If she’d let him explore every inch of what he knew would be one beautiful body on one very special, beautiful afternoon.

Lost in sensory overload, Avery’s eyelids flickered, then drifted shut again as Jack’s hot mouth moved from her lips to slide across her chilled cheek. Touched the hollow of her throat, her jaw, the tender spot beneath her ear. She’d never kissed a man she’d just met before, but if it was always this good, she planned to keep doing it. And doing it. And doing it.

His hands cupping her cheeks were warm, and his breath that mingled with her own was warm, too, as he brought his mouth back to hers. Her heart pounded in her ears nearly as hard as the rain on the umbrella. She curled one hand behind his neck, hanging on tight before her wobbly knees completely gave way and she sank to the ground to join the water pooling around their feet.

The sensation of cold rain and snow splattering over her face had her opening her eyes and pulling her mouth from his. Dazed, she realized she’d loosened her grip on the umbrella, letting it sway sideways, no longer protecting them. Jack grasped the handle to right it, holding it above their heads again, his dark brown eyes gleaming. His black hair, now a shiny, wet ebony, clung to his forehead. Water droplets slid down his temple.

“Umbrellas don’t work too well hanging upside down. Unless your goal is to collect water instead of repel it,” he said, a slow smile curving the sexy lips that had made her lose track of exactly where they were. Lips that had traveled deliciously across several inches of her skin until she nearly forgot her own name.

“I know. Sorry.” She cleared her throat, trying to gather her wits. “Except you didn’t bring an umbrella at all, so you would have gotten wet anyway.”

“True. Not that I mind. I like watching the raindrops track down your cute nose and onto your pretty lips.” His finger reached out to trace the parts he’d just mentioned, lingering at her mouth, and she nearly licked the raindrops from his finger until she remembered a few very important things.

Things like the fact that she barely knew him. Like the fact that they were standing in a public place. Like the fact that she wasn’t looking for a new relationship to replace the not-good one she’d only recently left.

She stared at the silkiness of his dark brows and the thickness of his black lashes, all damp and spiky from the rain. At the water dripping from his hair, over a prominent cheekbone, down the hollow of his cheek and across his stubborn-looking jaw. The thought crossed her mind that she’d never, ever spent time with a man so crazily good-looking. Even more good-looking than her ex-boyfriend, Kent, and she’d thought at the time he was a god in the flesh. At least for a while, until she’d figured out the kind of overly confident and egotistical guy he really was. Until she’d found out he was actually the one convinced he was godlike.

Getting it on again so soon with another man was not something she planned on doing.

She drew a deep breath. Time to bring some kind of normalcy to a very abnormal day. “Let’s go to the café, dry off a little and get some food. You being Mr. Hungry and all.”

“I’ve realized there’s only one thing I’m hungry for at the moment.” His lips moved close to hers again as his eyes, all smoldering and intense, met hers. “You. All of you.”

All of her? Was he saying what she thought he was saying? She tried to think of a quick, light response and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Maybe because she could barely breathe.

He kissed one corner of her mouth, then the other. “What do you say we head to the hotel for a while? A little dessert before lunch. I want a better taste of you.”

Her heart leaped into her throat. Never having kissed a man she didn’t know also meant never having had a quick fling with one. Never dreamed she ever would. But something about the way he was looking at her, the way his fingers were softly stroking her cheek and throat, something about the way her body quivered from head to toe and heat pooled between her legs had her actually wondering if maybe today was the day to change that.

After all, her last two relationships had ended with loud, hurtful thuds. Didn’t she deserve some no-strings fun, just this once? She’d only be in Paris for one month, busy at work most of the time. The perfect setup for exactly what he was suggesting. And what would be the harm of enjoying what she knew would be one exciting, memorable afternoon with an exciting, memorable man?

“I… um…” She stopped talking and licked her lips, gathering the courage to shove aside her hesitation and just say yes.

“I know. We’ve just met, and it’s not something I usually do, either. Honest.” He cupped her cheeks with his cold hands and pressed a soft kiss to her mouth. “But being with you here in Paris just feels right. Doesn’t it? It just feels damned right.”

She found herself nodding, because it did. For whatever crazy reason, it felt all too right. A no-strings, nothing-serious, no-way-to-get-hurt moment with a super-sexy man to help her forget all about her past disappointments.

Another drop of water slid over her eyelid, distracting her from all those thoughts, and she swiped it away. “Except I’m all wet, you know.”

The second the words left her mouth his eyes got all hot and devilish, and she felt herself flush, realizing what she’d said. “That’s a plus, not a problem.”

A breathless laugh left her lips. Before she could change her mind she decided to give herself a little present to make up for what she’d been through with her past jerky boyfriends.

Silent communication must have zinged between them, because they grasped one another’s hands and headed in a near run to the hotel. To her surprise, the closer they got, the more excited she felt. She was entering unknown territory here, and hadn’t she always promised herself she’d live life as an adventure? Plunging into bed with Jack for an hour or two seemed sure to be one thrilling adventure.

With her heart thumping so hard she feared he could hear it, Avery followed Jack as he shoved open the door to his hotel room. Once inside, the nervous butterflies she’d expected to flap around earlier finally showed up. She stared at him, hands sweating, as he shut the door behind her, trying to think of what the heck she should say or do now that they were actually here.

“Wouldn’t you know that the minute we come inside, it stops raining?” she said lamely. Why was she so suddenly, crazily nervous? A little fling was no big deal, right? People probably did things like sleeping with someone they barely knew all the time. Especially in Paris. She didn’t, but surely plenty of women did.

“Maybe if we’re lucky, it’ll start raining again when we go out. I like kissing it off you.” The brown eyes that met hers held amusement and a banked-down hint of the passion that had scorched between them just minutes ago.

He shut the door and flipped the lock, his gaze never leaving hers. The heat and promise and that odd touch of amusement in the dark depths of his gaze all sent her heart into a little backflip before he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Unlike their previous kiss, this one didn’t start out soft and slow. It was hard and intense, his tongue teasing hers until she forgot all about what she should say or do. Forgot where they were. Forgot to breathe. His fingers cupped the back of her head, tangled in her hair, as the kiss got deeper, wilder, pulling a moan from her chest that might have been embarrassing if she’d been able to think at all.

His mouth left hers, moving hot and moist to the side of her neck to nuzzle there. “You feeling more relaxed now?” he murmured.

How had he known? Though relaxed probably wasn’t quite the right word to describe how she was feeling. “Um, yes. Thank you.”

He eased back, his fingers reaching for the buttons of her coat and undoing every one of them before she’d had a chance to blink. “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling a little warm,” he said as he slipped it from her shoulders and tossed it on a chair.

“Must be from all that running to the hotel,” she said, breathless, but not from their fast trek to his room. “I figured it was a good chance to start training for the spring marathon.”

His lips curved. “I thought we were running for a different reason.” This time, his hands reached for the buttons of her blouse, the backs of his fingers skimming her skin and making it tingle as he slowly undid them one by one. “The reason being that I can’t wait to see what you’re wearing under this.”

Her lacy white blouse dipped low over her breasts, and pure, feminine pleasure swept through her at the way his eyes darkened as he stared down at them. At the way a deep whoosh of breath left his lungs. His fingertips slipped down her collarbone and inside her bra to cup her breast at the same time that his mouth covered hers.

Oh. My. The man was certainly one amazing kisser. World class, really, and her bones nearly melted at the sensations swirling around her. His cool hand on her breast, her nipples tightening into his palm. His hot mouth tracking along her skin, her bra now slipping completely off her to the floor. Her pants somehow magically loose enough to allow his other wide palm to slide inside to grasp her rear before it moved to the front and touched her moist folds, making her gasp.

The loud patter of rain again on the window had him pausing his intimate exploration, and he lifted his head, his dark eyes gleaming. “Guess it’s a good thing we came in here out of the rain.”

“Good thing,” she managed before he resumed kissing and touching her until she was trembling with the intense pleasure of it all.

“Avery.” The way he said her name in a rough whisper, the way he expertly moved his fingers while kissing her mouth and face and throat, had her nearly moaning. It all felt so wonderful, every bit of nervousness evaporated, replaced by want and need.

How she ended up on the bed she couldn’t say, but when his mouth left hers she looked at him, foggily realizing that she was somehow flat on her back completely naked, while he stood there, staring at her.

“You are every bit as beautiful as I’d fantasized you’d be,” he said. “Looking at you takes my breath away.”

If that was true, then neither of them had much of an ability to breathe at the moment.

“My turn to look at you. Strip, please.”

Those bold words coming out of her mouth shocked her, but he just laughed. “Your wish is my command.” His gaze stayed on her as he quickly yanked off his shirt, and her breath caught at his lean but muscular torso. As he shoved off his pants, his erection became fully, impressively but all too briefly visible before his body covered hers, hot and deliciously heavy.

“You didn’t give me much time to look at you,” she managed to say.

“Sorry. Couldn’t wait to feel all your gorgeous, soft skin against all of mine.”

Well, if he put it that way. She had to admit it did feel amazingly, wonderfully, delectably good.

Was she really doing this? Lying naked with a man she barely knew? The feel of his body on hers, his mouth pressing sweet kisses to everything within reach of it, his smooth, warm skin beneath her hands told her the answer was yes, but to her surprise she didn’t feel tense or strange or regretful. All she felt was toe-curlingly excited and turned on.

His hands and mouth roamed everywhere until she found herself making little sounds and moving against him in a way that would have been embarrassing if she hadn’t been so totally absorbed in the sensations and how he made her feel. Nearing orgasm more times than she could count before he backed off and slowed things down, she was close to begging him when he finally rolled on a condom, grasped her hips with his hands and pulled her to him.

Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, inviting him in, and the way they moved together made her think, in the tiny recess of her brain that could still function, that it seemed impossible they’d met only that morning. That this dance they danced hadn’t been etched in both their bodies and minds many a time before.

And when she cried out, it was his name on her lips and hers on his as they fell together.

It Happened in Paris...

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