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My knees tried to go weak, right there at the Louvre, at the sound of his voice. I loved his voice. “How did you guess where I am?” I asked.
“It’s your happy place, remember? Did you think I wasn’t listening?”
My hand was shaking, my throat dry. Just his voice was doing this to me. I’d missed him so much, and it had only been days. I was in big, big trouble.
“You came here for me,” I said.
“Yes. I’ve been here before, though only on business and never as a tourist. I like it. Is it as magical as you thought it would be?”
&n
bsp; “Yes,” I said, my voice breaking. “Yes, it is.”
“I’m glad. I could ask where you are, but you seem to have gone temporarily insane, so you’re not going to tell me.”
I started walking away from the museum. “I’m not insane.” Just in love with you. “Just hurt, I think.”
“Which means you’re insane, because I know you wouldn’t believe that I’d leave your bed and go fuck a supermodel. You’re far too smart for that.”
I hadn’t believed it, not really. But he was Aidan Winters, and larger than life. He could have anyone. “It was a moment of weakness,” I admitted.
“Her car service canceled on her, if you care. We split a ride, then went our separate ways. But I’m not wasting any more time on that. Right now I’m going to find you.”
“How?” I asked, because he had me curious now.
“I could do it nefariously, I admit. I know people who can track your credit card. I know other people who could probably track your cell phone if I paid their fee.”
“If you do that, I’ll never forgive you.”
“I know, and you’d be right. So I haven’t done it. Besides, I’d rather guess. It’s more fun that way.”
I shook my head. “Aidan, Paris is a huge place. There’s no way you can guess where I am right now.”
“Can’t I? You’re not at the Eiffel Tower or the Arc de Triomphe, because you’ve already been there. Those were the first two places you went.”
I was silent in shock.
“I’m right,” Aidan said with that irresistible cockiness. “I’m trying to figure out where you went next. Montmartre is a Samantha kind of place, but then again so is the Left Bank. I can’t decide which one you went to.”
Again I was silent, because he was so freaking close. “Are you sure you’re not tracking my cell phone?”
“I don’t have to,” he said. “I pay close attention to you, Samantha. I always have. I think it’s Montmartre, because that’s where Rachel the art student would go.”
I had to pause, because at the mention of that night I felt a rush of pure lust. That night in the rain, going back to his place, stripping, straddling him—everything about it had been hot. I’d come so hard it almost hurt.
“You were fucking magnificent that night,” Aidan said, reading my mind. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman in my life.”
I made myself speak. “Rachel the art student was a role, Aidan. It wasn’t me.”
“Your roles were the most honest you’ve ever been,” he said matter-of-factly. “With me, or with yourself. Everything you did while in character told me something about the real you. And I missed none of it.”
I had entered a garden now, large and beautifully manicured. The sign said it was called the Jardin de Tuileries. I made a note to look it up in my guidebook. “That still doesn’t mean you know where I am,” I said. I was starting to enjoy the challenge.
“Leigh the office worker would go to Versailles,” Aidan said. “She’d be dazzled by the riches there. Or she’d go to an erotic bookshop to find something to read. Apparently there’s one in the suburbs, but the books are all in French. That’s sent me back to square one.”
He was amazing. I hadn’t done either of those things, but given a few more days, I would have done both of them. “Wrong,” I said, because I was getting into the game. “I’m not at Versailles. Or at an erotic bookstore.”
“One night with the devil, Samantha,” Aidan said. “You’ve already had more than one. Do you want more?”
