One Kiss in... Paris. Robyn Grady
aware of his thumb circling over the dip in her back. Her lungs celebrated being filled with his mesmerizing scent. Strangely, all the happenings around them faded into a suddenly bland background. When a corner of his mouth slanted—the corner with that small scar—her pulse rate spiked and her blood began to sizzle. She’d wanted to know. Now she did. Having Mateo’s arms around her—soothing and at the same time exciting her—was like being held by some kind of god.
“So you’ll be working for Natalie’s agency?”
“While I was dressing—make that redressing—Natalie explained they’d lost three cleaners in the past couple of weeks.”
“You don’t mind the work?”
“I’m grateful for it. And it won’t be forever.”
He grinned. “Sounds as if you’re making plans.”
Seeing her father today cemented what she’d already come to realize. Education was the key to independence. “I’m going to apply to college.”
“Do you know what you’ll study? Teaching? Nursing?”
“Maybe I should become a doctor,” she joked. “Dr. Bailey Ross. Neurosurgeon.” She laughed and so did he, but not in a condescending way. “I want to do something that makes people happy,” she went on. “That makes them feel good about themselves.”
“Whatever you choose I’m sure you’ll do well.”
“Because you know I’m an A student, right?”
“Because I think you have guts. Persistence will get you most places in life.”
Unless you were talking about her father. The more she’d tried, the more he’d turned his back. Cut her off. There came a time when a person needed to accept they should look forward rather than back.
But then she retraced her thoughts back to Mateo’s words—I think you have guts. She gave him a dubious look. “Was that another compliment?”
A line cut between his brows. “Tell you what. We’ll make a deal. I promise not to mention the money you owe Mama in a derogatory way if you promise something in return. It has to do with my vacation.”
She couldn’t think what. Except maybe, “You want me to house sit?”
“I want you to come with me to France.”
Bailey’s legs buckled. When she fell against him, bands of steel stopped her from slipping farther. But the way her front grazed against his, his help only made her sudden case of weakness worse.
Siphoning down a breath, she scooped back some hair fallen over her face. “Sorry. Did you just say you want me to go to France with you?”
“I got the impression you hadn’t seen Paris.”
“I was saving it for last. I never got there.”
His smile flashed white beneath the purple lights. “Now’s your chance.”
She took a step back but more deep breaths didn’t help. She cupped her forehead.
“Mateo, I’m confused.”
He brought her near again and flicked a glance over his shoulder at the couple dancing nearby. “Blame Alex. He suggested it.”
She tried to ignore the delicious press of his body, the masculine scent of his skin, the way his hard thigh nudged between hers as he rotated them around in a tight circle. “You know I don’t have money for a ticket to Europe.” Her jaw hardened. “And I won’t take any more charity.”
“Even if you’d be doing me a favor, keeping me company?” His dark gaze, so close, roamed her face. “One good turn deserves another.”
“That’s not fair.”
His mouth turned into a solemn line. “There wouldn’t be any conditions.”
Bailey blinked. Maybe because he was Mama’s grandson, she hadn’t considered he might be trying to buy more than her company.
With the lights slowly spinning and couples floating by, oxygen burned in her lungs while she tried to come up with an appropriate reply to a question that had knocked her for a loop. After an agonizingly long moment, she felt the groan rumble in his chest and his grip on her hand loosen.
“You’re right,” he said. “Crazy idea.”
“It’s not that I wouldn’t like to go.” She’d always wanted to see Paris. It was her biggest disappointment that she’d planned to save France for last rather than enjoying that country first. “But I’ve just got back,” she explained. “I’m starting that job Monday.” She finished with the obvious excuse. “We don’t know each other.”
He dismissed it with a self-deprecating smile. “Like I said. Forget I spoke.”
But as his palm skimmed up her back and he tucked her crown under his chin while they continued to dance, although she knew she really should, Bailey couldn’t forget.
At the end of the evening, she and Mateo dropped Natalie and Alex off then drove back to his place in a loaded silence.
Her breathing was heavier than it ought to be. Was his heartbeat hammering as fast as hers, or was she the only one who couldn’t get that enthralling dance and tempting offer out of her mind? Mateo had asked her to jet away to France with him. What had he been thinking? What was she thinking still considering it after having already told him no?
Bailey pressed on her stomach as her insides looped.
Admittedly, she was uniquely attracted to Mateo Celeca; he had a presence, a confidence that was difficult to ignore. But how did she feel about him beyond the physical? Yesterday, after he’d tried to degrade her over the money she’d loaned, she’d thought him little more than a self-serving snob. And yet, tonight, when she’d met his friends … had been his date …
Her stomach looped again.
After that episode with Emilio, the last thing she wanted was to get caught up in a man. Any man. Even when he gave generously to the orphanage where he’d spent his earliest years. Even when she felt as if she’d found a slice of heaven in his arms.
Since that dance, the air between them had crackled with a double dose of anticipation and electricity. If, when they got home, they started talking, got to touching, she didn’t know if she’d want to stop.
After they pulled into the garage, Mateo opened her door and helped her out. Their hands lingered, the contact simmered, before his fingers slipped from hers and he moved to unlock the internal door and flick on the lights. Gathering herself—straightening her dress and patting down her burning cheeks—Bailey followed into the kitchen.
“Care for a nightcap?” he asked, poised near the fridge.
Bailey clasped the pocketbook Natalie had loaned her under her chin and, resolute, made a believable excuse.
“I’m beat. Practically dead on my feet. Think I’ll go straight up and turn in.”
As she headed out, Bailey laughed at herself. He might not even want to kiss her. She could be blowing this awareness factor all out of proportion. But prevention was always better than cure. She’d accepted his invitation to stay a couple more nights. She didn’t want to do something they both might regret in the morning. And if they got involved that way, there would be regrets. Neither was looking for a relationship. She certainly didn’t want to get caught up in a man who, only yesterday, had as good as called her thief. A man who might set her pulse racing but who could never get serious about a woman in her situation.
And yet, he had asked her to France….
When Mateo reached the foot of the staircase, he stopped and turned to face her. Standing there, simply gazing at one another in the semi-darkness, she had this silly urge to play down the scene, stick out a hand and offer to shake. But,