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Alice had no illusions about love either, but neither was she steeped in cynicism, and she shivered involuntarily at the ice-cold centre she glimpsed inside him.

Not only did he not believe in love, he would never bother trying to find it. As far as he was concerned, it didn’t exist. He made money, he paid people to take care of life’s little inconveniences and he slept with women for physical release.

He was not one of life’s good guys and how fair was it that, despite that, his raw sexuality made him a magnet that few could resist?

She turned away and stared out of the car window. It was a beautiful day with skies as clear and as blue here as they had been in London.

‘Perhaps you could tell me what the plans are for today,’ she suggested, pulling back from the conversation, although it lingered in her head like a song being played on a loop.

‘Hotel. A few hours’ respite. Then we will be taking the client out tonight.’

‘I haven’t booked anywhere.’

‘Francois and Marie are entertaining us,’ Gabriel informed her. ‘At their home. Hence arriving today rather than Monday. The entire family will be there. I thought it might be an opportune moment to hear their various opinions on the company sale so that we can squash any last-minute nerves.’

‘At their house?’

‘Rumour has it that the place is palatial. I’ve been told by Francois that various important dignitaries will be there. They are celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary; we’re honoured to have been invited.’

Alice looked at him, alarmed. When it came to the client entertainment side of their stay in Paris, she had been thinking more along the lines of one or two stuffy restaurants where she could easily fade into the background—the ever-professional secretary tagging along to make notes.

She hadn’t banked on anything too elaborate. Frantically trying to think what she could wear to somewhere palatial with circulating dignitaries, all thoughts left her head as the limo pulled up outside their hotel.

Lacking in money and poorly travelled as she was, Alice had still heard of this hotel. She paused and stared at the impressive building facing her and was even more impressed when she followed Gabriel inside.

Marble, chandeliers and stunning paintings and tapestries announced its enviable status as the very best anyone could get for their money.

‘We’re staying here?’ she breathed, and Gabriel turned to her with a slight smile.

‘If you can afford the very best, why not have it? You know by now that that’s my mantra.’

Alice glanced at him. He was the very epitome of a man at ease in his surroundings. He accepted the sudden flurry of activity around him as his due. No one could bow too low or scrape too hard and she felt a thrilling little flutter at being the woman at his side.

Even if she was only here in her role as his valuable secretary.

‘There’s something I need to ask you,’ she whispered as they were shown up to their adjoining suites.

‘No need to whisper,’ Gabriel whispered back. ‘I very much doubt the bellboy is interested in anything we have to say. A poker face is essential in places like this. The truly wealthy seldom like to be gawped at.’

Alice’s eyes flashed and he laughed. ‘Should I apologise for my arrogance?’ He briefly turned away and spoke fluently to the bellboy in French, who faded away with a slight bow and an ingratiating smile at the huge tip placed in his hand.

‘I guess you’re only being honest,’ she reluctantly conceded. From what she could glimpse behind him, the room was spectacular. Huge, big enough for a separate little sitting room, and everything was decorated with decadent opulence.

‘One of life’s few true virtues: honesty. You said you had something to talk to me about...’ He walked into the room, paying no attention at all to his surroundings, leading her to assume that he had been there many times before. ‘Come in and spit it out.’

Alice hovered by the door as he pulled his jumper over his head and flung it on the bed which, like the room, was super-sized. In the process, his shirt was tugged out of the waistband of his trousers and she glimpsed a tantalising sliver of bronzed stomach, as flat and as hard as a washboard.

‘Well?’ Gabriel prompted. ‘Don’t just stand there.’ He turned away and began scrolling down his Blackberry, frowning at emails as Alice tentatively walked into the room.

The presence of the bed was disconcerting. It brought back memories of the last time she had been in a bedroom with him, which was not what she wanted to think about.

When she was stranded in the middle of the room, he eventually glanced up and indicated one of the chairs which formed a little cluster by the window.

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