A Very French Affair. Эбби Грин

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      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.

      Because, as much as he relished the feeling of boredom being gone, he also conversely wanted it back. In these uncharted waters of insatiable desire he felt rudderless. He wasn’t used to a woman making him feel like this, and the only other time that had happened he’d been too young to know how to deal with it, or the consequences. Not so any more. This time he was equipped. He would take her and then move on to someone more suitable, safer. This was just a temporary madness.

      At that moment, as if Sorcha sensed him watching, she turned and looked up. The smile slid from her face and was replaced with a flare in her eyes. Her mouth opened slightly. She wanted him too. He knew it like an immutable truth that stirred in his blood. Though he knew she’d deny it again if he pushed her.

      And that was why he found himself tugging her back from getting on the boat as they watched Simon and Dominic go off ahead of them. Now they were alone. No crew around.

      Sorcha looked up into Romain’s expressionless face. She was very aware of the fact that they were now alone. On a stunningly beautiful idyllic white marbled palace island. Dominic and Simon’s boat was chugging away in the distance. Their boatman was looking at them expectantly.

      ‘Have lunch with me here.’

      Sorcha’s СКАЧАТЬ