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Lunch. Was it drugged, too? “I couldn’t eat a bite.”
“Nonsense.” Gentleman like, if not distant, Alex held out a chair for her. She took in his outfit.What on God’s green earth?
Madison blinked, scarcely believing her eyes. There, before her, stood Alex, transformed beyond recognition.
Her suit clad man was gone, as was his hot twin, the jeans-and-t-shirt Alex. This Alex was head-to-toe hot Prince Charming, courtesy of more velvet and silk than any straight man should ever wear.
Intricate gold embroidery adorned the double-breasted waistcoat he wore, glimmering as it caught the light, a clear mark of the wealth and status of 18th-century French aristocracy.
Knee-length breeches and white, silk stockings showcased the massively sculpted shape of his legs, and polished black shoes with golden buckles and...
“Are those heels?” Madison whispered, quipping a laugh.
Alex’s tight lips formed the tiniest smile. “When you recant this insane story to Paco, which I know you will, tell him I totally pulled them off.”
She took a seat. “What? No white, powdered wig?”
He scooted her in, his breath on her ear. “I didn’t want to be too over the top.” His voice lowered. “Don’t kill me.”
And with that, he stepped away, leaving her as if she were a child at the adult table, and sat his flamboyant ass down between Jordan and Stassi.
Madison opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word, Stassi clapped her hands.
Did she just clap to shush me?
A plate of food was served to her.
Madison took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she inhaled the tantalizing aroma of simmering chicken, rich red wine, earthy mushrooms, onions, and garlic.
The scent coaxed a blissful sigh from her lips. It was mouthwatering and unmistakeable. It wasCoq au Vin,and that scent was divine. It was one of Alex’s favorite recipes. One which Madison had replicated with some success using a premade rotisserie chicken and a splash of box wine.
Was Stassi the reason? The reason Alex named it his number one meal of all time? Because, let’s face facts, Madison’s version wasn’t making it to that status in this millennium or the next.
Quietly stewing, Madison ate. Every bite, actually. Hell, it took sheer willpower not to lick the plate.
She focused on the food because, one, she was hungry. Her diet of Snickers, Doritos, and Coke had been cut short by the croissant-and-jam induced coma. And two, she couldn’t understand a damn word anyone was saying.
If they weren’t speaking French, they bounced into Italian. And then Russian.Russian?
The only Russian she thought Alex knew was the dressing. And he always said French was his weak spot.
Could’ve fooled me.
“Soufflé au chocolat,” the servant said, as she was next presented with an individual soufflé. They all were—each individual ramekin adorned with a different suit of cards dusted in powdered sugar along the top.
Madison’s eyes widened as the plate placed before her. The dessert looked absolutely delectable, with its fluffy, risen top and rich chocolate aroma wafting through the air. The decadent treat tempted her senses, but as Madison glanced over at Alex, sternly and disapproving. He shook his head.
Seriously?
She glared back. She wasn’t just eating for her. She raised a spoon to the chocolate puff of heaven. After all, she was eating for three. What was wrong with one little bite?
“The bathroom?” Alex asked, loudly. Madison looked up. “Did you say you needed to go?”
Horrified, Stassi gasped. “Oh, Alex. Language like this at the table?”
Innocently, he shrugged. “I was just asking her to repeat herself.”
Mortified, Madison dropped her face to her hand. “Sure. Why not? I’m going to the bathroom.” She stood, steady on her feet.Thank God.“Excuse me.”
