Cognac & Couture (The Passport Series Book 2) by Celia Kennedy Read Free Book Online Page B

think?” He gestured to the room.
    “It’s perfect.”
    Over absolutely exquisite cheeseburgers and dry Champagne,
we talked about my passion for renovating and life in Enclos-St-Laurent. By the
time we left, the restaurant was crowded. Walking with him slowly through the
darkness, I felt both excited and comfortable. Life seemed exhilarating.
    So exhilarating that I imagined a Kiss Me sign
flashing over my head and stifled a giggle. He seemed just as happy, and though
I hadn’t dated in quite some time, I was fairly certain he was interested in
me, not simply feeling sorry for me. He is, isn’t he?
    To calm myself in case he wasn’t, I made up stories about
the people we saw sitting in cafés, items in window shops, the brisk night air—nothing
too personal. After we crossed the canal, I asked him if he’d like to sit and
talk. He threw himself down in the middle of a bench, tucking his wool coat
around him. I sat, too, careful to put some but not too much distance between
us.
    An open-topped canal boat glided past. People were oohing and ah’ing. Festive, twinkly lights festooned the boat and reflected on
the dark water, creating a beautiful, quivering reflection of Parisian
splendor.
    Cold, I snuggled into my coat and stuffed my hands into my
deep pockets for warmth. Observing me, he slid closer and rested an arm on the
bench behind me. His body heat slowly started to penetrate my layers of
clothing. His attentive gesture left me daydreaming. Then I yawned unexpectedly
and yelped, “Sorry!”
    “You don’t have to go to such lengths to be free of me.”
    I shook my head, and before I could deny any desire to be
gone from him, he chose that moment to kiss me. The kiss was warm and gentle.
He held me tenderly, and from the slight tremble of his lips, I knew he was as
affected as I was. His taste, his touch flooded me, warming me in tender
places, compelling me to lean into him, leaving me wanting to explore him.
While I clutched the lapels of his coat to keep my hands busy, my head filled
with his scent, and it captivated me. Breathing heavily, he broke our kiss,
still gently caressing my cheek with his thumb. His dark brown eyes searched
mine. I looked from his eyes to his lips and longed to kiss him again yet
remained still, enjoying the sensation of anticipation. We sat somewhat
entangled, and in his gentle expression, I could see something indescribable;
were I a braver soul, I would have asked him to share his thoughts. But I
wasn’t. Not yet.
    He raised my hand and kissed the back of it. “I’ll walk you
home.”
    He held my hand as we walked, asking if he could see me
soon. I apologized, “It’s a very hectic week, between work and my friends
arriving. Once they’re gone?” We had arrived out front of the Art Deco building
where I lived.
    “Ah yes. Reality. I forgot about that.” His words made me
smile.
    My eyes darted to his lips. “I should go in. Thank you for
your help.”
    “Thank you for dinner.”
    “My pleasure, and thank you. Given how the day started, I
wasn’t expecting such a pleasant day.” Feeling bolder, I pressed a kiss to his
lips and turned quickly away before he could respond.
    I felt his eyes on me as I climbed the stairs. Desire for
him added a sway to my walk, and I felt a strong pull to race back down the
steps and into his arms. Instead, before disappearing inside, I turned and
found him watching me, looking quite handsome in the lamplight.

8:30 AM, Monday, September 28
Stella and Sharon
     
    THE WEEK WAS at hand,
and with it came much excitement. Today’s highlights were designers showing at
the Espace Ephémère Tuileries, Jardin des Tuileries, and L’ École Nationale
Supérieur des Beaux-Arts. I rummaged through a packet and found my official
passes. Spending all of God’s hours working was paying off! I had access to
many events in the fashion world and , if rumors were true, my boss was
retiring at the end of the year, which meant L’Oréal would be looking