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“I go at least once a week.”
“Why? Isn’t it just a tourist attraction?”
“To me it is much more. I go up to look at the beauty of my city.” The deep timbre of his voice quivered, only a little. “I don’t wish to take Paris for granted again. When I was younger, I left, to make my fortune in L.A. That did not work for me. I belong here. This is my home.”
Raine sighed as she raked her fingers through the moist hair on his chest. “That’s a beautiful sentiment. I wish I felt that way about my home.”
“You don’t?”
“No. Not really. There’s nothing tying me to New York. My marriage broke up. My parents have both passed away. I can write anywhere.” She inhaled, breathing in the salty, musky scent of Blaise. A smirk escaped her lips as she thought of how she had almost mistaken him for Jacques Le Grand. “You want to hear something funny?”
“What?”
“When I first saw you… Well, not that I’m some pervert who watches a lot of porn, but I’ve been known to indulge on occasion. Anyway, you look like…”
He stiffened against her.
“You bear a striking resemblance to a porn star named Jacques Le Grand.” She buried her head in the crook of his shoulder to smother the giggles that threatened to burst.
No response. He continued to hold her, but he suddenly seemed miles away.
She kissed his shoulder. “Blaise?”
“Would it matter, chérie?” His tone was wistful.
“What do you mean, would it matter?” She lifted her head. “If you were a porn star? Of course it would matter. I would never sleep with a porn star.”
Blaise turned his head away from her, sighed, and sat up and whipped his legs around to the side of the bed. “You just did, Lorraine.”
“I did what?”
“You slept with a porn star.”
Raine’s stomach twisted into knots and her pulse leaped into overdrive. “What?” This couldn’t be happening. Not Blaise. Sweet, sexy, amazing Blaise. “But you…you…” Her tongue drooped like lead in her mouth. She could hardly speak. “Y-You have chest hair. Jacques Le Grand’s chest is bare.”
Blaise stood and grabbed his jeans. “I waxed it.”
“What for?”
“What for?” His deep voice was hoarse as he bellowed. “How the hell do I know what for? The studio told me to. I need money. I do it.” He thrust one leg into his jeans, the sinew of his forearms taut with tension.
“You asshole!” Chills trickled over her body as her heart raced. “Damn it! A porn star. Jacques le fucking Grand!”
Blaise scoffed as he pulled his jeans up his muscular legs. “I did not say I was Jacques le Grand. I say only I did porn. Once. And you are the first woman I sleep with in two years!”
“That can’t possibly be true.” Raine’s body shook, the chills prickling her skin like tiny icicles. “You’re lying. And you lied to me before.”
“I never lied! Never to you.” He buttoned his jeans. “I have not been with anyone else. And if you had asked if I did porn, I would have told you the truth.”
“Right. That’s the first thing I ask a guy before I sleep with him. And what do you mean you didn’t say you were Jacques le Grand? You just said you did porn. And it doesn’t matter anyway. You lied to me.”
“I did not.”
“I’m not talking about…” Here it was. The insecurity. The helplessness. The uncontrollable anger and sadness. One afternoon of amazing sex did not restore self-esteem shattered by years of a dysfunctional relationship. “You did lie. You said I had the most beautiful breasts you had ever seen.”
“That was not a lie.”
“Of course it was.” Raine rose from the bed and scoured the room for her clothes. “You’ve been with hot L.A. porn women, and you think I have the most beautiful breasts? That’s a crock.”
