Passion Blooms in Paris (Diary of a Free Woman) (2 page)

Her shoes clacked on each marble step as she ascended to the top. She held her purse in one hand and the map in the other. Looking up, the wide staircase reminded her of the fancy ones she’d seen in movies but without the carpet and hard wood flooring. She reached the top, then turned the corner and climbed another flight to reach the second level. Although she was healthy and in shape, she’d needed a minute to catch her breath after the first long staircase.

Nearing the end of the stairs, she lowered her head and stuffed the map in a side compartment of her bag where she could access it easily. After the last step, she turned the corner and stayed close to the rail. Two seconds later her right shoulder bumped into a solid object. She came to a quick halt and lifted her gaze.

“Oh, my. I’m so sorry,” Gwen said immediately.

She widened her eyes as she acknowledged the handsome man standing in front of her. He had to be one of the pieces of art. He was slightly taller than her and had an average build. His short black locks held waves and he had a thin layer of hair covering the lower half of his face. Dressed in a nice suit, he had a professional and prestigious persona. His blue eyes intrigued her and she couldn’t look away. It was as if they were inviting her to peer deeper into them, move closer and press her body next to his. He was pure man, handsome and definitely fuck-me quality. Her pulse accelerated as he spoke in French. The words made no sense since she didn’t know the language, but from the gentleness of his tone, she suspected he wasn’t too angry about her colliding with him.

“I apologize. I should’ve been watching where I was going.” She took a step back.

He tilted his head slightly and spoke again in the foreign language. The softness of his voice soothed her sudden anxiety from running into him. When he curled his lips into a smile, her body warmed. Dear lord, she was getting hornier by the second as she stared at him.

“I don’t speak French. I’m sorry for hitting you. Please forgive me.”

With a smile, Gwen walked away from the sexy stranger and headed up the next flight of stairs. She hurried to the top, her shoes clapping on each step.

The image of him remained in her mind and kept her warm. As she debated if she should turn around to follow the Frenchman, she slid her sweater off her arms. Could she even look at old pieces of art now that she had a living gorgeous dark-eyed man in her thoughts? She doubted the artwork would provide the same kind of tingly and rousing sensation she’d felt in his presence. Yet, men would come and go. The world had plenty of fine specimens to fulfill her carnal needs. She had one opportunity to visit the Louvre and it was here and now. She decided to proceed with her exploration of the museum instead of pursuing the man.

Reaching the floor, she then paused to survey her surroundings. Long halls on each side of her contained pieces of art. She tied her light sweater around her waist then withdrew the map from her purse. After a quick review, she turned and headed in the direction that would take her deep into the museum.

Paintings in various sized frames decorated both walls. Immediately Gwen slowed her pace and moved closer to the left side. The centuries-old artwork was exquisite with vibrant colors. The artist’s precise attention amazed Gwen. She examined one picture after another and quickly scanned the information cards near the art. Eventually, she found herself in a room full of more canvases. She briefly checked out the self-portraits and those with food items then spent more time studying landscape drawings.

From one gallery, she entered the next and continued on her journey. When she was gazing at a Baroque painting with a half-naked woman as the focal point, she heard the soft creak of the floor somewhere in the distance. She paid no attention to the others in the room and kept her focus on the artwork.

“Beautiful,” said a deep, soft voice.

It was one Gwen had heard before. The word was in English, but the accent was clearly French.

Gwen swallowed and gripped the handle of her purse tighter as she tried to ignore the excitement stirring within her. “Yes. Beautiful.”

Hearing gentle taps on the floor behind her, she twisted and looked over her shoulder. The sexy stranger she’d bumped into near the stairs came to a stop next to her. He tilted his head as if he were staring at her legs. Slowly, he lifted his gaze. “Exquisite.”

Blood rushed to her face. Her heart thumped faster. Was he referring to her or the picture?

He shifted his attention from her to the painting. “Her skin is fairer than yours and breasts are smaller.” He glanced at Gwen’s chest. “Yes, much. Yours are better.”

Holy hell
, Mr Sexy had observed her breasts and complimented them. Moisture seeped between her legs and dampened her panties. Her temperature skyrocketed. She fanned herself with the map.

“You’re American, yes?” he asked.

“I am, yes. I don’t speak French.”

He smiled and gestured to shake her hand. “Pierre Devaux.”

Gwen quickly shoved the map in her bag then accepted his greeting. “Gwenevere Stratten. You may call me Gwen.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” he said.

Gwen’s hormones were on fire. His eyes, his voice and that damn sexy accent were too much for her. Merely being around him could cause her to have an orgasm.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Gwen said and smiled.

He let go of her hand. “Is this your first visit to Paris?”

“Yes. I’m on vacation here for a few days then I leave for Italy.”

“And your first trip to the Louvre?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Would you like a personal guide? I’ve visited many times and know my way around here.”

“Really?”

He smiled and offered his hand. “I would be honored to escort such a beautiful woman around the Louvre.”

Gwen couldn’t refuse the opportunity to get to know Pierre more. Her body would hate her if she did. She placed her hand in his.

He closed his fingers around hers and guided her away from the painting. “I hope you don’t mind, but I followed you from the stairs.”

She walked slowly next to him. “I’m really sorry for—”

“Please”—he held up his free hand—“no more apologies. Perhaps our meeting was fate.”

Fate? Gwen didn’t believe in such a thing. She did believe in opportunities and when they revealed themselves, they were worth taking. Meeting Phillip on the plane and joining the mile high club was a prime example.

“Do you live and work here in Paris?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m in the Entertainment business.” He stopped and turned to the wall. “And while I admire the work of the artists who created all these masterpieces, they never portray bodies accurately. Women have small breasts and men have small penises. Here is a perfect example.”

Gwen pressed her lips together to prevent the laughter from bursting free. Once she gained control of her humorous side, she said, “A large cock might take the focus off the rest of the picture.”

“Yes, but it would reflect realism and how the man truly feels.” Pierre gently squeezed her hand.

“Maybe the artist thought it would offend others of his era.” Gwen shrugged.

“A man should be proud of his manhood when he’s excited by a woman.” He met her gaze. “I am.”

Gwen realized her mouth was hanging open and shut it. Did he confess he had a hard-on? She glanced down. Unfortunately, his dark pants hid any sign of an erection.

“Would you prefer me to have a small penis if I were in this picture? Would you not rather see the real thing?”

Her face felt as if it were on fire. “I’d much rather see the true shape.”

He moved closer to her. “You wouldn’t be disappointed.”

“I believe that.” She stared into his blue eyes while her panties grew wetter. The man had sex appeal she couldn’t resist.

He lifted his free hand and traced his fingers down her arm. A chill raced through her, hardening her nipples and sending erotic tingles to her apex.

“You are a work of beauty. Dare I say I would enjoy marveling at your body? I would enjoy…”

He turned his head without finishing his sentence. Three ladies stood several feet away, whispering and watching Gwen and Pierre. They all had dark hair, yet two were younger. The oldest was fishing inside her purse as if she were searching for something.

Pierre sighed. “I must go.” He dug inside his inner jacket.

“Are your escorting services over?” Gwen looked at the women, then Pierre. Confusion gnawed at her.

“For now. But I will return. I promise.” He handed a small business card to Gwen.

She took the small paper and glanced at it. To her surprise, she found the word ‘actor’ under his name.

“You’re an actor?” she asked.

“Yes. Do you have a number?”

Gwen shoved her hand into her bag and snatched a pen. The women’s cackling drew the attention of another young couple in the room. Realizing she had little time, she used the back of the card Pierre had given her and wrote her cell phone number on it. If the man truly wanted to marvel at her body, he’d contact her.

“Here.” She returned the paper to him. “I’d like you to finish that sentence sometime.”

The thumps of shoes moving closer stole their gazes. The three women were walking toward them.

Pierre bent to kiss her cheek, then her ear. “I will. Don’t leave.”

He walked away before she could draw in another breath.

The three women stopped and watched as Pierre disappeared from the gallery. Their bright smiles faded and the two younger ladies turned to the oldest.

Gwen sighed heavily. She wished Pierre could’ve stayed with her longer. He seemed nice. Although she knew nothing about him other than he was an actor, she couldn’t resist his appeal. She had a few more nights in Paris. Why not enjoy at least one with a hot and irresistible man? Pierre fit the description perfectly.

The three females walked toward Gwen. They were dressed nicely, in skirts and blouses, not the type to cause trouble. Their eyes were wide with curiosity as they approached.

“I’m sorry but I don’t speak French,” Gwen said as they came to a stop.

The older lady pointed to the door. “Are you a friend of his?” she asked in English.

Gwen shook her head. “No. I just met him. He told me his name, but I didn’t get to know him.”

The woman smiled. “He’s a big actor. TV. Movies. Big. We love him. My daughters and I.”

“He’s very popular in Paris?” Gwen asked rather than said with her eyebrows raised.

She waved her hand in the air. “All over France. Was he nice?”

“Yes, he was.”

The younger ladies smiled. The mother looked at her daughters and the same pleasantry appeared on her face.

“Excuse me, my time is limited in Paris,” Gwen said.

The mom gave a nod and ushered her girls away.

Gwen walked toward the open doorway where Pierre had disappeared. She hoped she’d run into him again soon, but understood if she didn’t in the museum. Looking at art was more exciting with him.

She entered the next room and eyed the paintings. After she’d finished checking them all out, she stepped into the hall then entered the next exhibit. Seconds later, she felt a small vibration from her purse. She hurried to withdraw her cell. A glance at the screen revealed the message.

Are you alone?

She twisted to see if anyone else was nearby. No one was. She stole a glimpse at her phone again. The number from the sender was unfamiliar to her. She recalled the odd numbers on Pierre’s card and recognized the first couple of digits. As she typed a response, she hoped she was communicating with Pierre.

I am.

Gwen held her phone in her hand and at her side in case someone walked into the room. The rules of the museum stated no cell phone usage. She didn’t plan to take any pictures or make any calls. As long as nobody saw her, or Pierre, then they should be safe. Clearly he must have thought the same thing since he sent her a message.

Her phone vibrated, calling her attention to it.

Shall I finish my sentence now?

Gwen smiled. Desire stirred within her as she typed her reply to him.

Yes. Tell me what you would enjoy doing to my body.

Chapter Two

Gwen held her phone at her side while she faced the paintings on the wall. She tried to take in the full talent and wonder of the artwork, but her thoughts were elsewhere as she waited for Pierre to respond to her last message. Lust inside her grew with the passing seconds. She wondered what he wanted to do to her body. How could she fully appreciate centuries-old masterpieces when a devilishly hot man had complimented her breasts and called her beautiful? She couldn’t.

She scanned a few pieces of work then glanced over her shoulder. By using her phone, she put herself at risk of the staff catching her. And if they did, she wondered if they’d ask her to leave. Maybe they’d confiscate it until she was ready to go. Either way, she had to stay alert and keep her phone hidden in case someone walked into the exhibit. She’d feel utterly embarrassed if she had to leave the Louvre over texting a guy.

No. Not just any guy. A big, well-known French actor. That one detail was enough to make her extra attentive.

Soft thuds moved closer from outside the open doorway. Watching with wide eyes, she lifted her purse and stuffed her cell into the compartment. Better safe than sorry. When Pierre stepped into the room, relief swam through her and she took a calming breath.

Grinning, he walked toward her with his arm extended. “Come, let’s talk in the next room.”

She took his hand and let him lead the way. “I thought you were going to finish that sentence.”

“I will, but I want to make sure we are alone. And I did promise to escort you through the Louvre.”

Her heart was beating fast again. While she would enjoy touring the museum with him, she wouldn’t be able to focus on the art. The need for a man thrived within her. With him at her side, she couldn’t help but admire his handsome and strong body. Then the flow of naughty thoughts would consume her. Damn her raging hormones.

“Those women told me you are a famous actor here in France,” she said as he took her into the next room filled with more paintings but empty of visitors.