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Shaken by the depth of that primal response, a devotee of rational, logical decision-making, Damon shocked himself by launching himself out of his seat and demanded their coats. It wasn’t rational or logical, but he wanted her covered up as fast as possible. He wanted that coat back on, buttoned to the neck, concealing those amazing legs. The thought of the whole of Paris following the spiralling upward path of those tiny sparkling hearts made him sweat like a man running a marathon in a desert.
‘We’ll send you a full proposal in the next few days, Gérard.’ Taking control, he ended the evening and then guided Polly back down to the waiting limo.
As his driver opened the door for them she stopped and shook her head. ‘I want to go for a walk. It’s been a horrible week and it’s so beautiful here. It would be nice to get some air.’ Behind her the Eiffel Tower was illuminated against the dark sky and he saw her glance wistfully towards the tourist attraction. ‘You go. I can find my own way back to the hotel.’ Balancing on one leg like a stork, she removed her stilettos and replaced them with her flats.
Knowing that if he left her alone for two minutes she would be mobbed by Frenchmen, Damon took the shoes from her, handed them to his driver and held out his arm.
Her gaze lifted from his arm to his face and he acknowledged her astonishment with a faint smile.
‘Truce. I’m protecting my asset. Clearly I should have your pink pen insured for an astronomical amount.’
Her sudden smile knocked the breath from his body.
‘I know I ought to do it all electronically, and I do once I know what I’m doing, but I just can’t be creative on a screen—I need to draw. I was the same at school. The only way I remembered anything was by drawing spider diagrams and mind maps.’
She hesitated just briefly and then slid her arm through his. Dismissing his driver with a discreet movement of his head, Damon led her away from the crowds hovering at the foot of the iconic tower and across the road to the river. Strains of music and laughter drifted up from the Bateaux mouches as they floated under the bridge and Polly snuggled deeper inside her coat and stared down at the reflection of light on the water.
‘I always wanted to stand on a bridge in Paris in the sun set.’ There was a wistful note in her voice that drew his attention.
‘But with a lover, not your enemy.’
‘This may surprise you, but I don’t dream of lovers, Mr Doukakis.’ There was a brief pause and then she turned her head, the lights from the boat turning her hair to a gleaming shimmer of gold. ‘And I don’t see you as the enemy.’
Awareness throbbed between them and Damon inhaled deeply, feeling as though he were sinking in quicksand.
‘You wanted to walk. Let’s walk.’ He carefully withdrew his arm and instead pushed his hands into the pocket of his coat to prevent himself from touching her. He’d always known that self-discipline began in the mind, but he was fast discovering his mind wasn’t as strong as he’d previously thought. Maybe, he thought, he’d never been truly tested. He’d always avoided commitment of any sort, shying away from still more responsibility. He’d always made a point of keeping his relationships superficial and that was the way he wanted it to stay.
‘You’ve been to Paris before?’
‘No. This is the first time. When we pitched we went to their London offices.’ She strolled next to him, her eyes back on the river. Light flickered on the rippling surface, a kaleidoscope of colour and texture reflected from the illuminated buildings that stretched along the banks of the Seine.
‘It would have saved some misunderstanding had you revealed your level of input into the company right from the first moment. Clearly you were a key member of the team.’
‘If I’d walked into the boardroom yesterday and told you that all the good ideas in the company were mine, would you have believed me?’
Damon breathed deeply. ‘Possibly not. At least not initially. But you could have given me evidence.’
‘I’d put together a presentation. No one would listen.’
‘At the time I was handling the board, but when we were alone in the room afterwards you could have said something.’
‘When, exactly? Before or after you told me to get my lazy self to work?’ There was humour in her tone. ‘I don’t think you were exactly receptive.’
‘Theé mou, stop turning me into the bad guy!’
‘I’m just pointing out that you didn’t exactly start out with a good opinion of me.’ Her shoulders lifted in a tiny shrug. ‘And I suppose I don’t blame you for that. Because of me, your sister was excluded from school. And now she’s run off with my dad. Which isn’t exactly my fault, but I can see why it makes you angry to be near me.’
‘I’m not angry. At least, not with you. I am frustrated that you didn’t just tell me the truth about the company.’
‘At the time I thought you were just going to walk in and close us down to punish my dad.’
‘Despite what you may have heard I would never be that careless with people’s jobs.’ Forced to confront the depth of his own misjudgement, Damon felt a stab of guilt. ‘I admit that my anger towards your father blinded business sense. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I misjudged you, but you must admit that I had reason.’
‘Because I was excluded from school?’
‘Because nothing about Prince Advertising is professional.’
‘Actually, you’re wrong about that. We don’t do things your way, but that isn’t the same as being unprofessional.’
