Half an hour later, Conor sensed Lucy’s trepidation as she took his hand and climbed into his private helicopter. Could she be nervous as he was? He’d never asked a woman he’d known for less than ten minutes to fly to the City of Love with him. Comfort zone: obliterated.
He countered that by chatting about the ocean-mining operation Gavin Industries invested in as the pilot flew them over the English Channel.
Lucy had an Audrey Hepburn thing going, which was what had hooked his interest in the gallery. Petite, put-together, with coffee-colored hair pulled into an updo. And those sensual red lips…
Later, in the restaurant, they shared light conversation and she took photos of everything, including the food. But, thankfully, not of him. Lucy wasn’t like Conor’s past girlfriends, who had been glamorous, privileged and entitled. While she was flirtatious, she seemed to check herself at times. And she clung to her phone as if it were a security shield.
He’d give her that. He was a stranger. Most people didn’t know he was the world’s richest man, because his PR manager was worth his weight in gold (make that rhodium). Very few photos of Conor were released.
“This is crazy.” Lucy cast her gaze about the room. “Do you often whisk women across the pond for dinner?”
“First time I’ve done such a thing. Honestly,” he said to her doubtful brow lift. “And loving every minute of it. How about you?”
“First time in Paris. First time eating filet mignon. First time…” She lowered her head and her lashes dusted her cheeks. “…I’ve ever felt so excited about the unknown.”
He felt the same. And he didn’t want it to end. Yet it was nearing midnight, and he’d noticed her yawn after a sip of wine. “Do you want to do the sights tomorrow?”
“Oh.” She set down her fork. Clutched her phone. “I, uh…”
Red alert. Slow down, Conor, she must think you expect to sleep with her. That was not his intention. He barely knew the woman!
“I’d like to show you my favorite spots in Paris,” he offered. “Get to know you. I own the hotel across the street. The penthouse suite is yours, if you want it. We can reconnect in the morning?”
She still looked unsure. How to calm her worries? “You’re the first woman I’ve gone out with on a real date. What I mean is, one that hasn’t been set up or which was a mutual alliance sort of thing between companies.”
“Seriously? That’s…kind of sad. I mean, you’re not sad. You seem so kind and…we have a love of weird art in common. And…I noticed your tattoo.”
He slid up his sleeve to reveal the image of Audrey Hepburn. “In honor of my gran. She was a big fan.” And the only person who had ever loved him for being just plain Conor. Even his parents had their expectations. Meet the Gavin Industries ROI goal this month, son? Always, Dad.
“That’s sweet.” She seemed to digest the moment.
Nervous that she might refuse him, he balanced in the silence between them. One wrong move could be the difference between him having a nice evening with a beautiful woman or getting to dive deeper into the challenge and allowing himself to get to know her.
Finally, she nodded. “It would be a pity to come all this way and not see the Eiffel Tower.”
Clasping her hand, he kissed the back of it. He wasn’t sure if her shiver was from the chill in the room or a visceral reaction to their touch. But he felt the same. Slightly off-center. And…captivated.
Had he actually said he was smitten when introducing himself? Yes, he had, and it hadn’t been a lie.
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