Diana Palmer

Once in Paris


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your wallet!”

      He chuckled. “I probably would have. I was too drunk to care what happened to me.” His eyes softened. “I’m glad you were there.”

      Her fingers curled trustingly into his. “I’m glad I was there, too.”

      His eyes grew slowly darker as they stared intently into hers. His thumb began a lazy stroking motion against her palm. She felt the sensation all through her body, as if he was touching her bare skin instead of just her hand.

      He saw the reaction and deliberately enlarged the area of her palm that he was stroking. He hadn’t wanted women in his life since Margo’s death, and he certainly shouldn’t be encouraging this green little innocent. But she made him feel kingly when she looked at him with those soft, drowning eyes, when she trembled from the merest touch of his hand. Any man could be forgiven for being tempted.

      Her breath was choking her. She looked at him with an ache that made her sick all over. “I don’t suppose you’d like to stop that?” she asked unsteadily.

      “Why?” he asked softly.

      “Because I’m getting this awful ache in a place I can’t tell you about,” she whispered tightly.

      His hand tightened around her soft fingers. He wasn’t thinking about right and wrong anymore. He had an ache of his own, and he needed something to numb it before it doubled him over.

      “Suppose I told you that I have a similar ache?” he asked huskily, holding her gaze with steady, hot black eyes.

      “In a…similar place?” she asked outrageously.

      “Tell me where yours is,” he murmured wickedly.

      “Just south of my navel,” she said bluntly, and her mouth felt bone dry. “And my breasts hurt,” she added huskily.

      His eyes fell to them with keen, sharp interest and he saw the peaked nipples under her thin top. His intake of breath was audible.

      “Nobody ever looked at me there, or touched me there,” she whispered when she saw where his eyes were riveted. “I’ve saved it all up.”

      He felt as if the world were crashing down on his head. He had to stop looking at her, thinking of her, wanting her. He’d put her right out of his mind until he’d come to Nassau. Then he’d seen her again, at her stepfather’s, and all the wicked, forbidden longings had surfaced again at his first sight of her after the months of absence.

      His fingers edged between hers in a sensual caress. “I’m thirty-seven,” he bit off.

      “So what?” she asked breathlessly.

      “So you aren’t even legal yet.”

      “Excuses, excuses,” she muttered huskily. Her lips parted as the sensual caress of his fingers threatened to stop her heart. “For God’s sake, can’t you just do something? Anything!”

      His eyes narrowed to slits as he looked at her. “With Mary right in the house and Arthur likely to come looking for me any second?”

      She groaned aloud.

      He made a rough sound under his breath and glared at her. He jerked his hand back and stood up, turning his back to her while he fought to stop himself from reaching for her, right over the table.

      He jammed his hands hard into his pockets and grimaced when he saw how it outlined the raging, highly visible arousal he couldn’t help.

      Margo was the only woman who’d ever been able to do this to him instantly. It seemed that the long abstinence was making him careless, and vulnerable. He had to get this wide-eyed innocent out of his life.

      She was already inside the house by the time he turned around, heading right toward the front door.

      He went after her, noticing when he joined her at the curb that she wouldn’t look at him.

      “Sorry,” she said through her teeth. She was clutching her purse as if she expected it to make a break for freedom. “I don’t honestly know what came over me. Maybe it’s some tropical virus that makes your mouth independent of your brain.”

      He chuckled in spite of himself. “Not quite. But it seems to be contagious.”

      She wouldn’t look at him. “Don’t make fun of me, please.”

      “I don’t know what else to do,” he said bluntly. “I’m not seducing children this week. Sorry.”

      She glared up at him. “I was trying to seduce you,” she pointed out. “With no success whatsoever, I might add. I guess I’ll have to find some sort of school where they teach seduction and take lessons.”

      He burst out laughing. “You shameless hussy!”

      “Thanks. I’ll file that compliment along with all the others.”

      “It wasn’t a compliment.”

      “If you don’t do it, he will,” she said, suddenly serious. “I’ll throw myself in Nassau harbor right in front of the Prince George Wharf before I’ll let Sabon touch me!”

      “What do I have to do with him?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

      “He likes virgins. Virgins!”

      “Ah,” he murmured. “I begin to see the light. If you become suddenly experienced, he’ll lose interest, you think?”

      “Yes, I do. And if you’d cooperate, I’d be right off the endangered species list. But, oh no, you can’t make one little sacrifice for my whole future! Excuse me for asking you to risk your body in bed with me!”

      His eyebrows levered up as he stared down at her. “Careful,” he said softly. “You’re walking on broken glass.”

      “I’d like to create some,” she muttered. She looked away from him and sighed loudly. “Well, I’ll go to the casino over on Paradise Island tonight. Surely there’s some man desperate enough to give me what I need….”

      He jerked her around and held her bruisingly by one arm. His black eyes blazed down at her. “Don’t you dare,” he said in a voice that sent chills down her spine.

      “Well, you won’t!” she protested.

      “Maybe I will,” he murmured. He was disturbed, and he looked it. He felt Margo’s loss keenly, still, and even to think of sleeping with another woman seemed like adultery. But Brianne was young and sweet and loving, and it wouldn’t be any hardship to give her what she wanted. On the other hand, she was painfully young and impressionable. If it hadn’t been for the specter of Philippe Sabon lurking somewhere in the shadows, he wouldn’t even be considering this harebrained proposition in the first place.

      “You just hold your horses,” he said shortly. “Don’t lead with your head.”

      “Advice, advice,” she muttered. “Why don’t you just back me up against a wall and give it your best?”

      He dropped her arm. “You incredible child!”

      “I’m not a child, thank you.”

      “You’re outrageous,” he continued.

      “Totally. It comes from living among idiots.” She stared at him with quiet, soft eyes. “I’ll wear you down,” she promised. “Day by day.”

      He stared at her with mixed emotions. “Whatever happened to virginal terror?”

      “I don’t know. I’ll ask someone.”

      “Aren’t you afraid of the first time?”

      “With someone like you? Are you crazy?”

      He laughed in spite of himself. His eyes twinkled with humor. “All those expectations. I’m getting older. What if I can’t live up to your expectations?”

      “Oh,