Page 631 of Tease Me


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“Merci, Monsieur Montaigne,” she said, holding out her hand.

“You’re very welcome, mademoiselle,” I responded, surprised that she caught my name. As I took her small hand in my large one, she surprised me once again with a firm shake.

“Once I fix my shoe, I’ll be on my way.”

“My dear, your shoe is beyond fixing,” I laughed, and she joined in, holding the two pieces of her shoe in both hands.

The sound of her laughter was like a breath of fresh air I hadn’t experienced in over a year. Before allowing my mind to drift as it so easily did in those days, I asked her where she planned to go with such an assemblage of goods.

“I’m an apprentice for a lace maker and was returning to his atelier with supplies,” she responded, her eyes shining with exuberance.

It was then that I noticed how much younger than me Lola was, at least eighteen, maybe twenty years.

“I see, your dedication is admirable to carry so much, so late in the evening.”

“Yes, well, his work inspires me… Anyhow, I must go, thank you, again.”

She stood and made to lift her packages.

My gut told me to not let her go so quickly. Her apprenticeship, dedication, even her tempestuous little mouth, noticeably a lush and kissable one, intrigued me. My reaction shocked me, but not enough to stop me from offering to give her a ride.

“My car and driver are out front. Please allow me to take you to the atelier. Your shoe and those packages are not a pleasant combination.”

I paused and held my breath for her reaction.

Again, she appraised me, then nodded. With a perfectly arched eyebrow raised, she responded, “Well, I know who you are. I’ll text Monsieur Thibault to let him know that you’re bringing me to his studio now.”

Now, I think of how our chance encounter became the catalyst for the carnal fire smoldering inside of me. As I tamp down the forbidden desire for that particular young woman, I send a text message to Lola to meet me for dinner.

* * *

“Bon soir, Monsieur Montaigne,” greets the maître d’ at Arpège. “Comment ça va ce soir?”

“Bon soir. C’est bien, je vous remercie,” I reply with a smile I’m fine this evening.

The three Michelin star restaurant is buzzing with the sounds of patrons chatting while they dine on the award-winning food.

This is Lola’s favorite restaurant in Paris. I first brought her for dinner almost five years ago to celebrate the opening of her flagship boutique on the Champs-Élysées. A year later, we returned for the anniversary of our initial encounter.

I settle at the table and peruse the menu.

“Sorry I’m late!”

With a blink, I look up and see Lola leaning down to double kiss my cheeks in greeting.

Her pretty, heart-shaped face flushed from rushing to the restaurant. Her wavy, black hair flowing down her back is in stark contrast to the cream silk blouse tucked into a black leather pencil skirt. I laugh to myself when I notice that she’s wearing shoes similar to the ones she had on that long-ago evening, this time paired with black fishnets.

“Oh, petite chérie, no need to apologize. No doubt Leonie took longer than expected,” I joke.

The Parisian megamodel Leonie Beaulieu is the utmost professional who never displays a diva attitude. Yet another young woman I’ve encountered over the years and played a part in her professional growth. I introduced her to Lola. Leonie signed on as the spokesmodel for the lingerie company and became best friends with Lola. So many beauties, however, only one taunts me.

“Of course,” Lola winks, going along with my jest. “She’s infatuated with the new collections and coerced me into giving her most of the samples!”

The server arrives to take our order, and Lola requests her favorite dishes.

Once we’re alone, I sit back. With a stern tone, I ask, “And if Leonie has all the samples, how do you presume to present them to the president of STEELE International’s Retail Properties Division the day after tomorrow?”

Lola nearly chokes on her sip of wine as her gaze flies to mine, eyebrows hitting her hairline.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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