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While these intensely serious thoughts are filling my mind to the brim, I look up at the father of my child. A big grin splits his gorgeous face. He’s cut his baguette into an extremely suggestive shape, and is waggling it around to the consternation of the uptight-looking Parisiens sitting nearby.
“Stop it,” I hiss at him, embarrassment rising to my heated cheeks.
But I’m also smiling—I hate that I’m smiling.
Luke winks at me.
Oh my God. He’s infuriating!
Luke
This Paris trip was a great idea. Genius, if I may say so myself.
There’s no business meeting, of course. The InFini acquisition was a big one, and it’s going to need some time to settle. I can’t just incorporate such a huge company into our own in a day, and I don’t want to overstretch myself by making another so soon.
There’s making sure the shareholders are suitably convinced I’m not going to sit back and let things stagnate, and then there’s being plain reckless.
Nope, this trip was always about Tessa from the start.
She’s doing her best to play it cool, but I can see how overawed she is at the whole thing. She’s been snapping pics like a tourist, looking around at all the historical buildings with wide-eyed wonder.
It’s cute and charming as hell. She’s cute and charming as hell.
The type of woman I usually dated would be extremely bored. She would have seen it all before, or actually lived in Paris. She would be bad company—moody, or self-conscious, making sure that the paparazzi were taking a suitable number of pictures. I even had a couple of flings approach the photographers to make sure they caught her good side. It was utterly absurd.
And they were always boring to talk to. Waffling on about this fashion show or that designer, or bitching about other girls in the business and how two-faced they were, yada yada yada.
I’d started to ask myself why I even kept dating women like that. But for someone in my position, it’s almost impossible to meet someone who’s just down to earth, comfortable in their own skin, and doesn’t want to use me for money or fame, or whatever.
That’s why Tessa is so special. This isn’t just another fling, and wouldn’t be even if we hadn’t got married.
We belong together. If I can show her that, maybe she’ll change her mind. She has to.
As we finish our meal, I’m surprised at just how much Tessa eats. She definitely has a healthy appetite, and she’s not shy about eating around me. After my carousel of girls who ate only salads, I kind of like the change.
We make our way back to the hotel, just a few blocks away.
Warm sunlight casts its glow on Tessa’s smooth skin, now that she’s taken off her cardigan. While she looks around, wide-eyed, at the sights and the people we walk past, I can’t take my eyes off the way her hips wiggle from side to side in her pencil skirt.
A gentle breeze caresses her light blouse and carries her delicious scent wafting into my nostrils. Our conversation flows naturally.
I’m careful not to mention anything about our marriage. I don’t want to spoil the mood. This stroll is perfect. As crazy as it may sound, I can see the two of us, decades from now, grey and wrinkled in our rocking chairs, reminiscing about this magical day.
So we talk about the food, about work, and about Paris. By the time we reach the Four Seasons, Tessa has come up with mental lists of things to do as my PA and places to see while we’re here on our “business trip.”
Tessa whistles as we approach the old building—it’s dripping with history; it must be hundreds of years old.
“I never imagined I’d be staying in a place like this,” Tessa says, staring up wide-eyed in amazement.
“Only the best for my . . . staff,” I say with a smile, biting back the word “wife.”
Our bags have already been deposited in the rooms, so we head up. I’ve reserved the entire top floor of the hotel. I’ve got the penthouse, and Tessa’s got the Presidential Suite.
When I drop Tess off outside hers, she’s still looking around, starstruck, at the opulent decor.
“Wear something nice tonight,” I tell her. “We have an important business dinner.”
She shakes herself out of her reverie and her gaze darts to me. She looks slightly nervous. “Uh, okay. I just hope what I have is swanky enough. Is the meeting with anyone important? Is there anything in particular I need to know? I could spend the afternoon doing some research if I need to.”
“Oh, they’re very important,” I say enigmatically, “but you don’t need to do any research or anything. Just be yourself, that’s what’s important to me. I’m sure they’ll be charmed by you, just like I am.”
I know she wants to press me for more answers, but I don’t give her the opportunity. It’s fun to keep her on her toes.
