Page 42 of Rogue Lyon

Could she do the same with this marriage to Jules? Convince not just the Parisians, but also herself that they were married? Man and wife. Connected until death do them part.

She turned and looked at the large, beautifully dressed bed. Would her longstanding duty to abide by convention be convinced it was a marital bed? A place for pleasure, not sin? A place to explore every inch of Jules Habsburg’s exquisite body and be the one to give him the pleasure of male release?

A shiver ran up her spine despite the warm weather. For a moment, she marveled at her erotic thoughts, at how she’d gone through some kind of metamorphosis since meeting the scoundrel of the ton and been dazzled by his wickedly sexy smile and the intriguing glint in his eyes.

Destiny was certainly playing a crazy trick on her. Giving with one hand, taking with another, and offering delights that would have beggared belief in her old life.

Soon, she was seated at a table in the hotel’s elegant restaurant. Spotless, white linen was spread on every table. The silverware was so polished, she could see her reflection in each piece, and like in the lobby, huge, fresh flowers filled every corner, every shelf, and tumbled from giant urns.

“Do you like it?” Jules asked, seated opposite her and sipping on a glass of champagne.

“It’s wonderful.” She looked up at the vast glass ceiling crisscrossed with steel struts. “And the plates being carried past look and smell delicious.” She craned her neck to eye a huge steak topped with creamy potatoes.

“I would suggest the blue lobster with asparagus,” Jules said, running the tip of his finger down the menu, which was all in French. “If you are agreeable.”

“If it is what you suggest, then yes, I want the full Paris experience.” She took a sip of her sweet champagne. “For I believe I will only be here once.”

“And why is that?”

She tipped her head and smiled. “Women like me…” She held back the word spinster. “Don’t generally travel.”

“I disagree.” He shook his head. “Women like you—who are rare, can I add for the record—can do whatever they want.”

“And why do you say that?” He thought she was rare? A slight flush rose on her neck and she resisted fanning herself with her napkin.

“Because you are intelligent, and observant, and I would imagine highly adaptable to your surroundings. For example, I bet you’d learn any language within a week or two if you submerged yourself in it.”

“I would like to learn Spanish.”

“You would master it in a heartbeat.”

“I admire you for being so fluent in French. It has been a long time since I studied it.”

He grinned. “Thank you.”

The waiter appeared and Jules ordered for them both, in French, and then set aside the menus.

“Can we be honest with each other?” she proposed, leaning forward.

“That is all I ever want to be with you.” He leaned forward.

She took a deep breath. That was a good start. “What is it you really want from life, Jules Habsburg? What is all this ducking and diving, gambling, drinking, fine dining… What is it for?”

“Whatever do you mean?” His eyebrows pulled together.

“You talk about your ancestors and how many generations ago you were cheated from a life of thrones and empires, yet you are a wealthy man, that much is obvious. Why would you need more? Why do you insist on searching for more?”

He tipped his head. “What I like about you, Meredith, is you are just like Mary of Burgundy.”

“I am? Why? What was she like?” She shrugged. “And who is she?”

“She was the duchess my ancestor Maximilian left Vienna for. He traveled, with his army on horseback and in his heavy armor, all the way to Burgundy to marry her. And Mary was known for being a straight speaker. She told it how it was, to her friends, family, and to her people. Famed for being a great negotiator and a keeper of peace, she understood strategy and people’s moods and could spot their biases.” He nodded slowly. “I admire her. From what I have learned from my readings, she was an incredibly strong woman.”

“She sounds it.” Meredith was touched and a little flattered that he’d compared her to someone he clearly revered.

“A woman with a zest for life,” he went on, leaning forward and warming to his subject. “Learned, skilled at falconry, ice skating, hunting, and more.”

“I would like to be friends with her.”