femininity had been desperate for male attention and glowed with pleasure at getting some.
They didn’t talk much in the limo. Her fault as she took in the color and lights of Paris. The restaurant was only a short drive anyway, a distance she would have walked in Montreal, even in this blustery fall weather and wearing these neck-breaking shoes. They were shown to a table with a stunning view of Notre Dame and the Seine. She tried not to gawk as they moved through the dining room, but along with gorgeous detailing that spoke of France’s rich history, the place was loaded with movie stars. There were probably athletes and politicians, too, not that she would recognize them. Demitri seemed to have a nodding acquaintance with almost everyone in the room, but didn’t stop to speak to anyone.
“Shall I order for you?” he asked as the maître d’ left them.
“What kind of men have I dated that dared to let me read the menu myself? As if a woman could,” she scoffed lightly.
“This is why I asked. Some of you feminists find it condescending.”
“And you see it as chivalry?”
“I had an old-world upbringing,” he stated with a ring of pride in his tone. “But I also like to know my date is ordering something I’d like to eat, since she won’t finish it,” he added with a supercilious lift at the corner of his mouth.
“Ha! You don’t know me very well, do you?”
“I’m working on it,” he assured her with a look that reached across and held.
“You read my personnel file?” she challenged, heart skipping. He knew about Zoey? Her breath stopped.
“Too easy,” he dismissed, leaning forward in a way that seemed to catch her in a magnetic field that pulled her into him. “I like a more personal approach.”
So he didn’t know she had a daughter. Natalie toyed with the idea of blurting it out, but didn’t want to cool the sizzle between them. It was too exciting, playing with this particular fire.
“I’ll bet you do.” Her voice came out papery and soft. He probably knocked women over with gently blown kisses. Her pulse was racing and her skin glowing hot from the inside. The way the banter lobbed back and forth between them entranced her, but he was an expert, she reminded herself. This wasn’t anything so grand as chemistry.
“If you think I’m such a womanizer, why are you here?” he asked, eyes narrowed to hide what he was thinking.
“Honestly?” She schooled herself not to look or sound desperate, even though she was bordering on despair where men and relationships were concerned. “I live like a shut-in, working from home a lot of the time. I’ll never get another chance to dine like the one percent and, quite frankly, you hit the nail on the head about the men I date. I thought I’d see what it’s like to be the girl for a change.”
He raised his brows.
“Let you hold the door for me,” she explained. “Pay. Even though I know it’ll really be the company paying. But you do know this is only dinner, right? I work for you.”
“You work for my brother,” he stated firmly, not thrown off his stride at all by her bluntness. “IT falls under finance. I head up marketing.” Despite his affable tone his gaze was dead level as he added, “My threats earlier were empty. I have no authority to fire you. By the same token, I have no way of helping you advance. If this turns into more than dinner, there’s no professional advantage for you.”
The warning pushed her back into her seat, putting her in her place. Yet she was strangely relieved. Embarrassed, yet amused.
“Look at all we’ve got on the table and we haven’t even ordered,” she said with a pert lift of her brows.
* * *
Demitri released a “Ha,” and looked away, astounded by how thoroughly this woman was keeping him on his toes. Fortunately the waiter arrived to advise them of the evening’s specials.
“Please,” Natalie said when Demitri glanced at her. “Order for me. I’m curious.”
He nodded in satisfaction even though his brain was barely able to pull it together to order at all, only managing to choose the starters with a suitable wine before he turned back to her, trying not to fall into her spell like a fisherman off a boat.
When had she hooked him? That first laugh? The doe-eyed virgin look when he’d asked to speak to her? Definitely by the time she’d cut him down to size with a few swings of her rapier tongue, he’d been curious. Everyone loved him. Instantly and thoroughly. Even his family only acted irritated as they made every effort to draw him further inside the fold. Hell, women he slept with and left within hours remained affectionate and syrupy when he crossed paths with them later.
But not Natalie. He didn’t think it was an act, either. She’d been furious and insulted by his accusations today, then mistrustful and apprehensive of his invitation to dinner. When she hadn’t answered her door, he’d been stunned. No one rejected him, no matter what he did. And he searched for the line at every opportunity.
Finding her at the front of the hotel had been entirely too much of a relief for his comfort. Then she’d demonstrated that she was perfectly ready to leave him in the dust for being thoughtless. The warning lights were still flashing. Off her and inside him.
Only dinner, she’d claimed.
Take heed, he told himself. He avoided women with standards, being genetically incapable of living up to anything but the basest expectations of him.
Her honesty and playfulness were incredibly refreshing, however. And she was beautiful, with that skin like creamed honey and her eyes reflecting the sparkling lights from beyond the window.
“Tell me about yourself, Natalie,” he commanded softly.
Something like indecision passed over her face before she brought her gaze around to his. Her expression smoothed to an aloof facade, as though she’d mentally tucked away everything personal and only left the basics.
“There’s not much to say. I grew up outside of Montreal with my mother and brother. I divorced pretty much as soon as I married and worked on contract with Makricosta for two years before I was hired for a permanent position with the Canadian branch. Sometimes I go on-site across the country, but most of what I do is handled over the phone and through screen-share from my home office.”
“Turn it off and turn it on again?” he guessed.
“Exactly. Along with some talking off the ledge when files are corrupted or a job change demands a revision of an email signature and they can’t find where to update it. The excitement in tech support never stops, let me tell you. I couldn’t figure out why my ear felt weird the first few days I was in France and finally realized it’s because I wasn’t wearing my Bluetooth.”
There was more, he suspected, but before he could dig, she turned his inquiry around. “You?”
“Why don’t you tell me what you know? Through your carefully vetted research,” he drawled, and liked the way her full lips pursed in compunction. He wasn’t bothered. Of course the employees gossiped about him. He made about as much effort to be discreet as he did toward curbing misbehavior overall. The whole point was to let his escapades be known in order to reach maximum exasperation factor.
Which was juvenile, he realized, reflecting on it under Natalie’s regard and feeling the first traces of shame, but he had his reasons for making himself the target of attention.
“I don’t actually know that much,” Natalie said. “Your family keeps a low profile. Your brother turning up with a baby with the chambermaid was a hot topic for a while, but since I don’t work directly in the hotels, I don’t have close friendships with anyone at work and only get the odd bits of gossip fed back to me. There are some people I talk to all the time, and when I’m solving a crisis I’m very popular, but mostly I’m regarded as a necessary evil. Right now, making all these changes to the