"It smells good on you."

The words came out without pre-meditation, and Lucien braced himself, ready for her to clam up and shoot him down with the 'no flirting' line again. But she didn't. He saw appreciation of his compliment flare in her eyes first, followed by uncertainty that had her dropping her gaze to her dinner plate.

He sensed a change in her attitude, and wondered how far to push it.

A little, to gauge her reaction?

Or all the way?

Her smile was an aphrodisiac, all the more because he had seen so little of it lately.

He pushed his chair back and reached into a sideboard behind him, turning back with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew in hand.

"Don't we need to get back to work soon?"

He picked up the note of anxiety behind her words. "We're okay for time. Besides, it's practically the law in Paris to have wine with food, Sophie."

He poured claret into her glass, pleased when she didn't try to stop him. Her fingers brushed his as he raised his glass to hers.

"To Paris. And to getting my PA back." He paused, watching her eyes. "I missed your coffee."

She laughed lightly and her fingers played with the stem of her glass.

"It's good to be back," she murmured softly.

"Is it? I got the impression that it was your last resort."

She looked up at last, the laughter gone from her eyes. "It was. It is. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate it." She swallowed a little wine and looked around the lush dining room. "Not many jobs offer perks like this." She paused, and he didn't interrupt as he sensed there was more to come. "Or bosses like you."

Interesting.

"I think you just broke your own no flirting rule."

She shrugged, and he topped up her glass.

"Am I too English for my own good, Lucien? Too repressed, too frightened to live a big life?"

He swallowed wine, giving himself time to choose his words carefully. Keeping his tone neutral, he said, "We're not in England now. You can be anything you want to be."

He knew he'd crossed a line, but she beckoned him on.

"Anything? Then I'll be a singer in a smoky Parisian bar, or a can-can girl at the Moulin Rouge."

Lucien couldn't help it. His eyes dropped to Sophie's breasts, and his cock stirred in response. She had the curves to dance at the Moulin, and the idea of her bare breasts on display made his mouth water.

He lifted his gaze to hers, and found her eyebrows arched.

"I guess I asked for that," she said, and she didn't move her hand away when Lucien placed his close to it on the table and stroked her fingertips idly.

"Paris brings out the best in you."

The tiniest of laughs escaped Sophie's throat. "What happens in Paris, stays in Paris. So Kara said, anyway."

Lucien liked the sound of that very much. "Kara's just become my second favourite lady. You should listen to her."

"I do."

She flipped her hand palm up on the table, and Lucien traced his index finger along the lifeline cut that across her palm.

"I think your rules need amending." He drew slow circles on the fleshy mound beneath her thumb. "In fact, as your boss, I think I should be the one who makes the rules around here."

"What's wrong with my rules?"

Lucien laughed softly. "They restrict me. They stop me from telling you how your curves make me hard. They stop me from kissing your neck when you sweep your hair to one side."

He had the benefit of her full, slightly breathless attention.

"But they don't stop me thinking those things, Sophie. Every time you bend over the desk, I think how much I'd like to push your skirt up around your waist. I wonder what colour knickers you're wearing, and I imagine taking them off you."

Her fingers curved around his as he stroked his thumb over the tender pulse point inside her wrist. The beat definitely kicked up several notches as she digested his words. She drew her bottom lip into her mouth and held it there, as if to stop the words she wanted to say from escaping. Was she holding in her agreement, or her rejection?

Her eyes told him what her mouth wouldn't. She wanted this every bit as much as he did. He locked his eyes onto hers. There was no turning back.

"I imagine running my hands over the tops of your stockings, then between your bare thighs, and you open them a little to invite me in. God, you're wet, Sophie. You're hot, and you're drenched, and I reach for my belt so I can..."

Lucien's phone beeped loudly on the table next to him, and Sophie jolted and snatched her hand away from his.

"Fuck." He shoved his own hand through his hair and stared at the offending screen, then at her shell-shocked expression. "The car's here."

His cock was still rock hard.

"This conversation isn't over, Sophie."

Chapter Eleven

Sophie stepped out of the limousine a little while later, glad to be out of the confined back seat. Lucien hadn't said or done anything unprofessional in the car, yet she'd never been so close to anyone who radiated such clear sexual intent. He'd spoken of the site renovations they were going to view, and handed her checklists to complete on the tour, almost as if the conversation over lunch hadn't happened.

Had she imagined it? She'd drunk a little wine, maybe she'd misheard him.

However innocent and work-focused Lucien’s words were, there was no denying the lightning bolt of awareness when her fingers brushed his on the paperwork, or the casual burn of his knee where it touched hers.

The cool afternoon air helped lessen the heat that suffused her cheeks, but it could do little to calm the fire raging in her belly. He'd lit it. Or had she? Paris had clearly had a profound effect on her state of mind. Had she given him different signals? Or was he similarly affected by the city of love? The dynamic between them had morphed dangerously into something sexual, something her rules were too flimsy to hold steady against.

What would Lucien's rules involve? The blush returned to Sophie's cheeks at the thought, and she pushed it hurriedly aside as he joined her on the pavement.

"So. This is it. First impressions?"

Sophie tipped her head back to survey the tall, regal terraced building.

"First impression... um, understated?"

Lucien nodded. "Absolutely. This is a good address. My aim is to be thoroughly in keeping. Gateway Paris will be discreet, elegant and very, very grown up."

He placed a hand on the small of her back, and she felt the imprint of it might scorch her.

"Shall we?"

Sophie didn't trust herself to answer, so she just inclined her head and stepped inside the doorway.