"Sorry.” Conor straightened and nodded to the teen girls who snapped shots of one another before the skulls.
His feelings echoed Lucy’s look of disappointment. With a sigh, she hooked her arm through his as he led her away from the nuisance that had just destroyed their moment. Then again, perhaps kissing amid skulls and bones wasn’t the most romantic.
“You know where I’d really like to kiss you?” he asked. “The Eiffel Tower.”
“I’d follow you anywhere.”
***
Lucy begged Conor to have the driver drop them near the river so they could take in the sights as they made their way to the Eiffel Tower. She realized he was averse to being in the public eye, which was why he wore sunglasses. But he had invited her to see the most crowded tourist attraction in the city.
They strolled along the river, hand in hand. Lucy felt as though she was walking two inches above the ground. Part of that was seeing the buildings and landmarks she only knew from photos and books. But the bigger part? Conor’s hand in hers. It was like mainlining all those mushy romance novels Maeve was always trying to get her to read. Were she and Conor the only two people in the world? Felt like it. And when she pressed up against him and tilted her head onto his shoulder, the look he gave her supercharged the flutters in her core.
She was feeling all the feels right now. And she intended to enjoy every minute of it—because one distracting thought kept reminding her that this was just fantasy. A brief affair with a stranger that would end soon enough.
“You want to stop in that map shop?” Conor asked. “It’s my favorite kind of art.”
“Of course. I love seeing the city from your perspective.”
Browsing the walls of the tiny shop filled from ceiling to floor with antique maps, Lucy couldn’t take her gaze off the handsome trillionaire discussing the authenticity of a map with the shop owner in French, which he seemed to speak fluently. He stretched his arm high along the map’s gilded frame, which pulled his shirt tight across his back. Wow. Those muscles rippled. Thoughts of gliding her palms over his bare skin were so inappropriate—yet, with a secret smile, she turned to randomly sort through a file of smaller maps while taking the fantasy further to slipping off her dress…
“Find something you like?”
She spun to find the man of her dreams waiting expectantly. Something she liked? Yes, and it wasn’t a flat map smelling of dusty old cupboards, but rather chiseled muscles perfumed with vanilla and leather. Mmm…
“Lucy?”
“Uh, no, I’m good. Did you get something?”
“Yes, they’re shipping it to my London home. On to the Eiffel Tower?” He proffered his arm for her to take. Her fingers wrapped across solid muscle.
Yes, a nice tall, iron-hard, erect— “Er, yes. The Iron Lady. Let’s go!”
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