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He laughed even harder, his head back, exposing his very manly neck to me. A sudden urge to lean forward and kiss the bronzed skin on the side of it popped into my brain. I wondered if he’d taste salty.
“Geneviève, tu me donne envie de t’embrasser,” he said, his voice containing more of an edge to it now, all hints of mirth gone. He wanted to kiss me.
I mean—he said he wanted to kiss me. But that was because the cameras were on us. My stomach twisted at the knowledge this wasn’t real.
But hey, the show must go on.
His eyes searched mine, then his fingers moved to my hands, guiding them up onto his shoulders.
Beau’s broad shoulders and slippery skin felt sinfully—delectable. The sensual look on his face nearly stole my breath away. I inhaled as deeply as I could and said to him in French, “You’re taking a rather big risk, Beauregard.”
A subtle change in his face occurred. It was probably imperceptible unless you were, say, sitting directly on him, staring into his deadly handsome eyes. “We, Geneviève—we are taking a big risk,” he said roughly, in his sexy as heck French. That accent and the way he pronounced my name—oh my gosh, I felt like I was swooning.
Before I knew it, his hand snaked up my back and held onto my neck. Then he simultaneously pulled my head down as he moved forward, aiming directly for my lips. I really was not going to survive this.
When our lips touched, my body melted into his instantaneously. All thoughts of cameras, fake relationships be damned. Beau felt amazing and it was impossible not to enjoy a kiss from him.
Besides, there had to be some kind of upside to this arrangement.
His warm lips pressed hard to mine felt divine. But when his tongue touched my mouth, I immediately let him in. If I could have stopped the moan from escaping my throat, I would have. The feel of our tongues touching was too much to take quietly.
Beau kissed the same way he moved on the ice—with determination, skill, and the desire to be the best.
Which he definitely was.
By far.
On all counts.
Never in my life had anyone kissed me like Beau did. Not that I’d been kissed by many guys. But I knew one thing for certain—none of them made my toes curl and my heart race like this. The touch of his hands on my back as he rubbed and pulled me closer to his body, drove me crazy.
Just before the kiss got out of control, Beau tore his mouth from mine and laughed a deep, sexy chuckle into my neck. This had the unfortunate effect of making my eye’s roll back in my head as my eyelids fluttered.
My entire body was humming with need and having his lips and breath tickling my neck was not helping me settle down any. “I have an idea,” Beau said in a hoarse, husky tone.
“I bet you do,” I said, letting my fingers move down to his chest.
He lifted his head up and looked at me with a half-grin on his face. “How about you help me, uh, you know, unpack my stuff?” Then he leaned in further, giving me a quick lip touch. “Back at my place?”
I felt goose bumps form on my skin as I shivered at the thought of going back to Beau’s. He had a camera in his apartment, too, though. So, we’d have to keep this up.
The thought of that both excited and devastated me in equal measure. “Okay. I love cleaning,” I said, smiling at him—wishing this conversation we were having wasn’t pretend. “Organizing just happens to be my specialty.”
He shot me a handsome smile as his eyes searched my face for a few seconds. “Let’s go,” he said, his hands lifting me under my arm pits as I wiggled off his lap. Then he grabbed my hand and led me out of the hot tub and right up to his door.
