I didn't know what to say, so I just shook my head.
His hand slid over my shoulders until I was resting in the curve of his arm. The feel of his body that close to mine made my stomach flutter. He bent forward as if to kiss me, and I stopped him, the back of my left hand against his chest. Since I was now touching bare skin, I wasn't sure this helped.
"You behaved yourself the entire drive up here. What gives now?" I asked.
"I am trying to comfort you, ma petite."
"Yeah, right," I said.
He wrapped his other arm around my waist, turning my upper body against him. The gun was still in my hand, but it began to seem awkward. I wasn't going to use it on Jean-Claude, and the assassin wasn't coming through the locked doors. That much violence in a crowd this large with cops directing traffic seemed a little bold even for a professional.
I slid my arm across his back, the gun still in my hand. "If you kiss me, I'll have to redo my lipstick."
He leaned his face close enough to kiss, lips so close to mine he could have breathed me in. He whispered just above my mouth. "We mustn't have that." He kissed my cheek, running his lips down the edge of my jaw.
I touched his face with the edge of the gun, moving his face where I could see it. His eyes had gone drowning blue. "No necking," I said. I meant that. I'd only volunteered once for blood donation and that was when he was dying. I did not share bodily fluids with the Master of the City.
He rubbed his cheek against the gun. "I had something a bit lower in mind."
He ducked his head to my collarbone, licking down my skin. For a second I wondered how low he was planning on going, then I pushed him off of me.
"I don't think so," I said, half-laughing.
"Do you feel better now, ma petite?"
I stared at him for a heartbeat, then laughed. I did. "You are a devious son of a bitch, did you know that?"
"I've been told that before," he said, smiling.
The police had pushed the crowd back, and the limo moved forward. "You did that just to cheer me up." I sounded almost accusatory.
He widened his eyes. "Would I do such a thing?"
I stared at him and felt the smile slide from my face. I really looked at him for a moment, not just as the world's greatest lust object, but as him, Jean-Claude. The Master of the City was worried about my feelings. I shook my head. Was he becoming nicer, or was I just fooling myself?
"Why so solemn, ma petite?"
I shook my head. "The usual, trying to figure out how sincere you are."
His smile widened. "I am always sincere, ma petite, even when I lie."
"Which is what makes you so good at it," I said.
He nodded his head once, almost a bow. "Exactly."
He glanced ahead of us. "We are about to embark on a sea of media, ma petite. If you could put the gun up? I think the press would find it a bit much."
"Press?" I said. "You mean local media?"
"Local, yes."
"What aren't you telling me?"
"When the door opens, take my arm and smile, please, ma petite."
I frowned at him. "What is about to happen?"
"You are about to be introduced to the world."