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“How long are you in the city for?” he asked her.
“Just for tonight. You?” For the first time, she was sad about that. Sad about going home tomorrow.
“Same.” His lip curled. “I’m flying back to Europe tomorrow.”
“Where in Europe are you flying to?” she asked.
“London. I have a business there. I spend most of my time on that side of the Atlantic.”
“I love London. I used to go there a lot for the weekend, just jump on the Eurostar.” She loved how the train from Paris to London went in a dark tunnel under the water between the two countries. Liked even more how fast the trip was.
“What did you do there?” he asked her.
“Mostly visited galleries.” She smiled at the memory. “I love art. And the food. I know a lot of people say it’s bad, but some of my favorite restaurants are in London.”
“Shame you’re not in Paris anymore,” he murmured.
She wished she was.
“It’s been five minutes,” he told her.
“What?”
“Your bet. I think you’ve won it.”
Did he want her to go? She’d barely drunk her whiskey. She looked over her shoulder at her friends. Ella lifted a brow at her and Grace rolled her eyes, bringing her gaze back to Irish.
“Oh. Okay.” She tried to hide the disappointment in her voice.
“You want to tease them?” he asked her.
“How?”
“Like this.” He trailed his finger along her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear. A shiver snaked down her spine, making her thighs tingle.
Oh God, this man.
“We could do that,” she whispered.
He leaned forward until his face was close to hers. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“How old are you?” she asked him.
“Too old. Way too old.”
“Age is just a number,” she whispered.
A smile ghosted across his lips. “That’s what a dirty old man would say.”
“There’s nothing dirty about you.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re wrong. I’m very dirty.”
Her breath caught in her throat. He was too handsome, too easy to talk to. Just one touch from this man and she felt like she was on fire.
