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Wilder grinned at her. “Unless you don’t want to eat dessert for lunch?”
“Oh, I want to eat dessert for lunch,” she laughed. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”
“Good,” he replied with a laugh. “I think you’re going to like this place.”
“Let me just change,” she said, her heart light with glee. She hadn’t felt this joyful in years, and she wanted to relish every moment.
Amelia dressed in a pair of baggy jeans and a sweater. The outfit was big on her, but it gave her plenty of breathing room. Room for dessert for lunch.
“Eat your heart out,” she said to the mirror with a grin.
* * *
The pastry shopwas in the center of Paris. From their little table on the terrace, Amelia could see the Eiffel Tower peeking out from the rest of the landscape. Wilder ordered them cafe au lait. In French. Because the man spoke French. Fluently.
Of course, he did!
It was so damn sexy to watch him speak the language of love. Amelia tried to look anywhere but at the man who was—for all intent and purpose—her savior.
It was probably dangerous to think of him like that. It would only get her in trouble. Wilder Wolverton didn’t want to be with a damaged woman like her. One with a soon-to-be ex-husband she didn’t want and more psychological baggage than… Well, she didn’t know who could be as fucked up as her after the last five years in Greg’s clutches.
“I ordered us a little feast,” he said once the waiter was gone. “Well, little. I might have asked for him to bring one of each. Might as well have a taste of everything Paris’s best pastry chef has to offer.”
“Might as well,” she agreed with a smile. “Thanks for today. I honestly didn’t think I needed to get out of London that badly, but I can breathe the air here. I can…” She closed her eyes and turned her head toward the sun. “I feel free.”
“Good. That was the whole plan.”
When she opened her eyes, she noticed Wilder staring intently at her. It was dumb—and probably the freedom talking—but it looked like he was staring at her with interest.
Thatkind of interest.
It was impossible. Men like Wilder Wolverton didn’t fall for women who let themselves be run by their blackmailing, kidnapping husbands.
Did they?
Nope. Wilder Wolverton would be waiting for his mate. His siblings were all settled with their own mates, and he would be waiting for that one special lady to find him.
Letting herself hope that Wilder could be attracted to her was only inviting more heartbreak, and with everything going on in her life, that was the last thing she needed.
“Here we are,” the waiter said as he returned followed by two other staff members. Each of them carried a domed silver platter.
These were placed on the table, and the waitstaff lifted the coverings before quickly disappearing. Each platter was filled with eclairs and fresh croissants, macarons, and all kinds of pastries. Some had shiny fresh fruit, others were clearly made of fresh cream and flaky buttery crusts.
Her stomach gurgled loudly, and Wilder laughed. She placed her hands on her belly. “Sorry.”
He continued to laugh. “Please don’t be sorry for such an honest reaction. I was hoping you would be pleased with the spread.” He sipped his coffee, watching her with those eyes of his.
He really was the most handsome man she had ever seen. When he smiled, he came alive. His dimples, his eyes, his hair, and even his complexion seem to turn into this Amelia-beacon. She couldn’t look away.
“Where would you like to start?” he asked.
Can I start with your lips?was not the right response.
Before she replied something stupidly super sexual, she blinked and looked down at the pastries.
“I think the eclair,” she said as she took the pastry. She bit into it, and her eyes rolled back. She moaned as the taste of fresh chocolate and cream filled her mouth. She quickly took another bit, loving the sweetness on her tongue.
The sound of Wilder’s laughter pulled her away from her bliss. She blushed and wiped her mouth. “Sorry,” she said. “That was only mildly embarrassing. I swear I don’t usually moan when I eat.”
