A Very French Affair. Эбби Грин

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A Very French Affair - Эбби Грин


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some minutes later, as Lucy was touching up her make-up, she saw the observation deck doors open and Romain walk out. The New York night was chilly, and he wore a long black coat that made him look impossibly tall and dark. She hadn’t seen him all day and butterflies erupted in her stomach.

      He focused on Dominic and Zane and went straight to them. Consulted with Claire. And then, with the issue apparently resolved, and a curt, ‘Don’t disturb me again unless it’s really urgent,’ he walked back out, not looking her way even momentarily.

      It felt like a slap in the face—which was ridiculous when it wasn’t even directed at her. She saw the lift doors close, concealing him from view. It was obvious he hadn’t appreciated Dominic’s autocratic demand at all.

      ‘He didn’t look happy to be taken away from his date!’

      Sorcha looked at Lucy, and ice invaded her veins. ‘What?’

      Lucy shrugged. ‘Well, that’s where I bet he was…Why would he want to supervise us up here when he could be taking some beautiful woman out to dinner?’ Lucy sighed dreamily.

      Sorcha longed to be the gossiping kind just once, so she could ask her if what she’d said was based on fact. But she wasn’t, so she didn’t. And for the whole night, when Romain didn’t reappear, Sorcha couldn’t stop imagining him looking into sultry blue, or brown, or green eyes, telling her—whoever—that next time they wouldn’t be interrupted, with all the passionate conviction he’d used with her, and which she stupidly, treacherously, couldn’t get out of her head…

       CHAPTER NINE

      THE following night they were heading off to India. The next leg of the journey. Sorcha made sure to be one of the first on the plane this time, and chose one of the single seats. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. Last night had made her feel out of control…she’d found herself missing him! As though the set had become a more sinister place without him. Everything had seemed lacklustre…They were barely days into the job and this man was winding her around his little finger with little more than his magnetic presence and one kiss. The thought of which made her squirm in her seat.

      She’d tried to see Katie for lunch earlier, but it hadn’t worked out with timing. Romain was insisting that they all stay in the same hotels along the way, in order to bond, so she hadn’t seen her friend once. And she missed Katie’s practical, down-to-earth maternal advice. Although maybe it was just as well that they hadn’t met, as when she’d told Katie about taking the job her friend had seemed to think that it was a good thing. She’d probably have encouraged her to jump into bed with Romain, and that was the kind of advice that Sorcha did not want to hear.

      She plucked her eye mask out of her bag and put it on. At least this way she wouldn’t even see if he got on the plane. Because she didn’t care. Liar. She ignored the mocking voice. And then…as if to mock her further…her heart quickened and she felt herself tremble slightly. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck when an all too familiar scent teased her nostrils. He was here. And she knew it without even seeing him arrive. Sorcha knew without a doubt that she was in deep trouble.

      Their shooting location in India was the beautiful City of Lakes—Udaipur. It was called the most romantic city in Rajasthan, and Sorcha had to agree, taking everything in the following day as they went by boat from the shore to the Lake Palace. It rose like an eye-wateringly majestic white dream from some Arabian Nights fantasy in the middle of Lake Pichola. She loved the arid heat, the hazy blue sky and the myriad colours everywhere—some so bright that it almost hurt to look at them.

      Romain sat beside her on the small seat of the boat, his thigh disturbingly close to hers. In long khaki combat shorts, much like hers, he was managing to look all at once casual and devastatingly attractive. His dark T-shirt clung to hard, defined pectoral muscles that were a wicked enticement to touch and feel. She swallowed.

      She’d managed to avoid him on the plane by sleeping most of the journey, and then all the way to the plush, opulent hotel they were staying in on the shores of the lake. But for now she couldn’t. She and Romain were in one boat, Simon and Dominic in another. The four were on their way to the Lake Palace to do a recce for tomorrow’s shoot. The rest of the crew had the day off, to recover, get over jet lag, and they would too—once this was over.

      But she couldn’t stop sneaking a furtive glance. Against the backdrop of the ancient Indian buildings he looked like some regal god. And for some reason she felt compelled to speak, her mouth working independently of her brain—because what came out was not what she wanted to say at all.

      ‘You were busy in New York.’

      She could see his brows pull together and cursed herself. What on earth was wrong with her?

      ‘Is that a question or a statement?’ He didn’t wait for her answer. ‘Actually, yes, I was busy. I’m working on a few projects at the same time, and I knew New York would be the last place I’d have any time to spend on them…Tell me, Sorcha, did you miss me?’

      She wanted to snort disdainfully, wanted to laugh. Wanted to say something cutting. She opened her mouth, but at that moment all she could see was his eyes. They were luminous in the hazy sunlight, glittering a fierce grey with something so…provocative in their depths that she couldn’t say a word. She wondered with awful futility how he had this power to hold her in such a spell…to make her think of things she’d never considered before.

      She was helpless, lost in that look. She wanted to blurt out how she’d been tortured with pictures of him on date after date…even though she knew in reality it had only been one night.

      ‘I worked late that night, and then I had to take Maud out to dinner. I missed you.’

      She couldn’t breathe as something awfully exultant moved through her. How was it that he could read her mind? To her utter horror she heard her voice come out shakily, forming words she’d had no intention of saying. ‘It didn’t seem like that on the Empire State Building.’

      A flash of something intense crossed his face, distracting her from her monumental gaffe, and then, as if she’d imagined it, he took her hand, lifting it, bringing her palm to his mouth, where he pressed a kiss to the heated middle. Her fingers curled instinctively, as if to hold the kiss, and all rational thought fled.

      ‘I told you that next time we wouldn’t be interrupted, and I meant it.’

      Sorcha felt her insides quiver, the blood thicken in her veins. How did he know just what to say to make her forget everything he stood for? Everything he represented to her?

      The launch arrived at the Lake Palace, and as it gently hit the small jetty wall Sorcha seemed to come to her senses. But still felt cocooned in some sort of dreamlike haze. Simon and Dominic stood waiting for them. Sorcha clambered off the boat and followed the men around. The breathtaking scenery distracted her momentarily from her churning thoughts and emotions. She gazed in wonder at the beauty of the palace, which had once been built for royalty but was now a five-star hotel.

      Finished with discussing the main schedule of shots with the other men, Romain turned to look for Sorcha. She’d disappeared. He walked over to the edge of the terrace, where a complicated lattice design in marble formed a wall. And there she was, just on the level below, down a few steps. He felt that annoyingly familiar punch to the gut. With her hair free, in tousled waves down her back, she stood on the terrace below talking to one of the hotel staff. He was pointing something out to her on a carving, and she was bending down, putting on her glasses to take a closer look.

      He knew she wouldn’t be faking an interest. And when she turned to look up and smile widely at the man he jealously felt bowled over by her natural beauty. She was dressed simply in shorts, which showed a smooth length of pale, slim leg, and a plain white T-shirt which clung to her breasts far too provocatively for his liking. He vowed to take her, and soon. He couldn’t wait much longer, and the sooner he burned himself free of this desire, the sooner he could get back to normal.


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