Under My Skin: A Contemporary Romance Set in Paris (Bistro La Bohème Book 2) (17 page)

To her surprise, Mat didn’t smile. His expression was so intense that she
too grew serious.

“But it isn’t a weakness, Jeanne, let alone a curse. I can see it so
clearly now. It’s a gift. To desire you like this, to love everything about
you—body and soul—is a beautiful gift that I was too blind to
appreciate.”

Wait a second, did he just say “love”?

“In April, when I realized you cared for me . . .” He
swallowed and huffed. “It’s amazing how quickly I got used to that idea, as if
it were the most normal, ordinary thing. As if it were something I could just
walk away from.”

He fell silent and searched her eyes.

Jeanne fought to stay calm, not to let herself drown in the gray depths
of his gaze. It was so tempting to put her arms around his neck and kiss him.
But even as she began to tremble with anticipation, she couldn’t—and
didn’t’ want to—discard the resentment she’d cultivated over the past
couple of months. She wasn’t going to melt into his embrace just because he’d
seen his attraction for her in a new light.

He took a step toward her. “This will sound corny, and you may laugh in
my face, but I’ll say it anyway. You’re under my skin, Jeanne, and you’re in my
heart. You’ve been there for years.”

She blinked a few times and looked away, struggling to remain cool. Did
he really think she might laugh at his words? She felt like crying.

Mat threw his head back. “God, it feels so good to finally say these
things to you. I want you to distraction. I want you in my life. For the rest
of my life. I want your babies.”

She swallowed and blinked rapidly, before turning to look away.

“I can’t believe it took me so long to see the truth,” he said. “You’re a
rare gemstone. One in a million. I love every single thing about you,
Jeanne,—your wit, your looks, your kindness . . . I’ve
never loved anyone the way I love you.”

He went down on one knee and pulled a small velvet case out of his
pocket.

For the first time in her life, Jeanne was dumbstruck. Mat’s unexpected
love declaration had been wild enough, but this . . . This scene
belonged in her fantasies, not in her living room. She eyed the object in Mat’s
hand with suspicion, her mind refusing to accept it as reality.

He opened the case. Inside was a magnificent uncut diamond ring.

He looked into her eyes. “Will you marry me?”

Her heart thumped a crazy beat. She couldn’t speak.

Mat kept his intense gaze locked on hers until a shadow of panic
flickered in his eyes. “Please say something.”

“We haven’t even dated,” she finally said.

“That’s easy to fix.”

“I . . . I wasn’t prepared for
this.”

“I understand,” he said, standing and cupping
her face. “You don’t need to say anything now. I’ll wait. It’s only fair.”

She nodded. It was, indeed, only fair. And
reasonable. She should send him away now, finish packing, and get some sleep
before catching her train tomorrow morning. They’d start dating after the
Christmas break. They’d take things slow, get to properly know each
other . . .

To hell with that crap.

She loved him. Standing before her pouring
out his heart was the man of her dreams. She wanted him in every way a woman
could want a man. In her bed. In her home. In her life. Hiding this from him
might be reasonable. And fair. But who cared about those things in a medical
emergency? Because this
was
a medical emergency. Her heart was so
swollen with love that if she refused to let it out sometime soon, she feared
it might explode.

For a few moments, she basked in his gaze,
savoring its ardor and getting drunk on the knowledge that Mat was hers now,
completely and unreservedly.

Then she beamed and said, “Yes.”

His brow creased. “Yes? As in ‘Yes, I’ll be
your beloved and loving wife’?”

She nodded with a grin.

“Come here.” He slid the ring onto her
finger.

“It’s gorgeous,” she said.

“The deal is sealed—you’re my fiancée
now.”

He pulled her close and kissed her. It was so
much more than a kiss. Soft and gentle at first, it was a vow to cherish her, a
promise of beautiful things to come. Gradually it grew hotter and harder as he
devoured her mouth, explored its depths, and bit her lips lightly. It gave her
a taste of his hunger for her. A glimpse into what it would be like to let him
love her.

Her knees began to wobble, and
she
drew away a little. His mouth was close, but not touching. Breathing heavily,
she fixed her gaze on his lips.

“Jeanne,” he rasped.

A flush of desire had darkened his skin. His eyes begged her to renew the
kiss, but he didn’t move. He was letting her lead the dance.

She stroked his back, feeling his rippling muscles through the soft
fabric of his cashmere sweater. Tugging at the hem she said, “Take it off.”

He yanked the sweater over his head and dropped it to the floor. The
T-shirt came off next. With his upper body stripped, he looked like a true heir
to the Norman Vikings.

God, he was beautiful.

She kissed his collarbone, neck, and shoulders. She stroked his back,
slowly sliding her hands down to his firm butt. It was arousing as hell to be
in control, to discover and explore his body. Soon, she’d let him do the same
to her, so she could close her eyes and just feel.

But not yet.

She pulled away again and took off her pullover and bra, but kept her
jeans on just like him.

He raked his gaze over her, his face transfixed with longing. “Sweet
Lord.”

Jeanne undid the button of her jeans, lowered the zipper and peeled off
the jeans and the panties. She straightened and said, “Now you.”

As soon as he was naked, she took a step toward him, threw her arms
around his neck, and pressed her body to his. His muscles were deliciously
hard, and every inch of his skin was hot against hers.

Finally.

At last, they were naked together, skin
against skin—no distance, no clothing, no barriers of any kind.

She moaned with the pleasure of it.

He growled low in his throat, slid one arm
under her knees, and scooped her up. “Which way to the bedroom?”

“First door on your right.”

He carried her to the
tiny bedroom, lowered her on the bed, and covered her with his body.

An hour later, Jeanne let her lids drop and
curled up against him, feeling exquisitely drained, boneless, and sated.

He kissed the top of her head. “Ah. Coffee.”

She opened her eyes and propped herself up.
“Coffee?”

“That’s how your hair smells. I love it.”

“Which confirms my theory. You’re a perv.”

“Want to hear something funny? I didn’t drink
any coffee all summer. It was part of my getting-over-Jeanne program.”

“Wow. You should develop a ten-step tutorial
and sell it online.” She winked. “Given the success of your program.”

He smiled and stroked her hair.

“Will you continue with the politics?” she
asked.

He nodded. “I like it, and I believe in what
the Greens stand for.”

“Will you run for mayor again?”

“Maybe. I may also stand for the cantonal
elections or the regionals next year. But only if I’m ready. When I have a
clear vision and a strategy.”

Jeanne hesitated for a brief moment and then
asked, “Will you move to Paris?”

Mat shook his head.

“I can’t move to Baleville,” she said. “I
recently bought
La Bohème
—”

“Jeanne, that’s fantastic news!
Congratulations. Wasn’t it your dream?”

“Yep.” She traced his jawline with her thumb.
“But how are we going to make it work with you in Baleville and me in Paris?”

“Easily. We’re only an hour and a half away.
I’ll spend half of the week here, provided you have the Internet, so I can
work. If not, I’ll get a subscription—”

“You’re in luck,” Jeanne cut in. “The
National Barmaids’ Association has just issued a memo urging all its members to
enter the digital era.”

He grinned. “I should send them a thank-you
note.”

“You can even
email
it.”

He smirked, then propped himself on his elbow
and stared into her eyes for a long moment. “Say you love me. Say you’re crazy
about me.”

“You know I am.”

He traced his finger across her lips. “I need
to hear it, Jeanne. Please. I
need
to hear you say it.”

She grinned, suddenly giddy. There it
was—his vulnerability. The toad eye. He may have become a heartthrob, but
deep inside he’d kept the sensitive soul that needed to hear her say she loved
him back.

“I love you, Mat,” she whispered in his ear.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she said covering his face with kisses.
“I’m crazy about you. I want you to be my adored and adoring husband.”

He pulled her to him,
gripped her hips, and in one swift move, plunged home.

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Excerpt from
You’re the One

His eyebrows shot up. “You love romantic comedies?”

“Of course I do.” She feigned surprise. “Don’t you?”

“Uh.” He scratched his head. “How shall I put it? I haven’t seen many.”

“You must have seen
Amélie
.”

He shook his head.

“Really?
Four Weddings and a Funeral? The Princess Bride?”

He threw his hands up, looking apologetic.

“OK, what about the classics—
Roman Holiday? Pretty Woman?
Groundhog Day?”

He gave her a panicked look and shook his head again.

“Let me get this straight. You’re telling me you haven’t seen
Pretty Woman
.”

“I’ve heard of it, though,” he offered.

She rolled her eyes skyward. “What planet have you been living on?”

“Hmm. I can see I have an embarrassingly big gap in my general culture.
I’m determined to fill it, though.” He paused for a second. “Will you help me?
I haven’t got anyone to watch a romantic comedy with. Will you guide my
uncertain first steps?”

She was flummoxed at how much the idea appealed to her. “I’ll give you my
top twenty to get you started.”

His face fell. “That would be great.”

She needed to steer the conversation further away from the danger zone.
“If I had a tenner for each romcom I’ve watched, I’d be a millionaire.”

He lifted his gaze to the ceiling and moved his lips, as if doing mental
math. “I doubt it.”

“OK, maybe not a millionaire, but certainly better off than a teacher.”

“You don’t like being a teacher?”

His question gave her pause. “Is that how it came out? No, the only thing
I don’t like about my job is the pittance they pay me. But I love every other
aspect of it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Including the noisy little ankle-biters with
permanently runny noses?”

“Especially them.”

“Well, I suppose there
is
something cute about them, if one looks
beyond the noise and the runny noses.”

“They’re so small and . . .soft. They don’t have any sharp
angles, even at their elbows and knees. And they ask the most unexpected
questions.”

“They most certainly do. I’ve got two little nieces, and I’m on
question-answering duty
every Sunday when I’m in
town,
” he said.

“I’m sure they love their uncle. Isn’t it heartwarming to see how kids
are excited about everything, how they try to figure things out, to make sense
of the world?”

He nodded. “And you enjoy helping them, don’t you?”

“I do.” She grinned. “In fact, I love it so much I wish I had a chance to
do a lot more of it.”

She bit her tongue, realizing she’d slipped from entertaining chitchat to
a different kind of conversation—the kind wherein you revealed essential
things about yourself. And if that shock wasn’t enough, Adrien’s expression certainly
was. He smiled softly, his brown eyes filled with warmth and reassurance. It
was like he was telling her he understood how she felt and he was on the same
page. He didn’t think she’d been
testing the waters
with him, did he?

She grabbed her purse. “I need to go to the ladies’ room.”

Once inside, she went to the sink, splashed cold water on her face, and
shook her head vigorously. But the image was still there. God, that look on his
face. That earnest, understanding look that said,
I hear you.