they’d buy their own spread someday.
Drew Eldridge was about as far from that vision of her future as a person could get. But he was a very real part of her present as he sat beside her in the back seat of the Mercedes. He smelled good, too. Maybe it was the smell of money. That thought made her want to giggle all the more.
“What’s so funny?”
“Everything. I go from losing all my possessions to the prospect of wearing designer outfits while I do up the city in style. At least I assume they’ll be designer outfits?”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s Josette’s specialty.”
“Knowing that a personal shopper named Josette is out there choosing Parisian fashions for little ol’ me, a rootin’, tootin’ cowgirl, makes me laugh. Don’t you think it’s funny?” She turned to him, expecting a smile, a twinkle in those blue eyes as he shared the joke with her.
Instead he looked at her with such warmth that her heart started pounding. She’d assured Val that he wasn’t interested, but he sure seemed interested now. She’d been around him enough to realize he didn’t wear that expression all the time.
“I think you’ll look great in those designer clothes,” he said.
Or out of them? Maybe before she said yes or no to this new plan of his, she should clarify the details. But she couldn’t do that now with Henri all ears in the driver’s seat. She faced forward, but she could feel Drew’s gaze on her. Oh, yes, he was sexually attracted to her, and apparently he didn’t mind that she’d figured that out.
Her pulse was still out of control when they reached the townhouse. She’d been carrying on an inner debate the whole way. Neither of them had spoken again, which was fine with her, because she had to think, but she could feel the tension in the car.
Was she horrified by the thought that Drew would like to get cozy with her in addition to escorting her around town? No. He could be between girlfriends and she was handy. That wasn’t so terrible. She was between boyfriends and he was handy.
She’d never been one for brief affairs, but then she’d never been to Paris, either. Or been rescued by a billionaire who wanted to temporarily spoil her rotten. He’d said that her fresh take on the city energized him, or words to that effect. It might have energized his sex drive, too.
Ever since meeting Drew, she’d thought of him the same way she thought of the marble statues in the Louvre—beautiful to look at, but not a part of her world. Sure, she’d realized that he was sexy. Any woman would realize that. So what? His sex appeal had nothing to do with her. But perhaps it did, at least during the next four days.
Henri dropped them off and drove away to park the car. When they came to the door, Drew reached around her and opened it for her.
“You don’t need a key?” She walked into the foyer. Now that it was dusk, the crystal chandelier sparkled with light and turned the foyer into a magical space.
“Henri calls ahead and tells the housekeeper to open the door for me.” He closed it behind him. “I have a key, though, in case I happen to be coming in late. No reason to get someone out of bed.”
Bed. The word hung in the air, and she swallowed. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” He took off his jacket. “Let’s go into the sittin’ room. Are you hungry? I could have the cook fix us some food.”
“Don’t be silly. We just came from eating.” She realized he must be nervous, too . . . or have his mind on something else. She unzipped her hoodie but kept it on. “I’ll be going off to bed soon.” Yikes, there was that word again. She was jumpier than some virginal bride, and yet she’d had lovers—three, to be exact. They’d all been cowboys who could ride and rope as well as she could. Drew might be a billionaire, but once his clothes were off, he’d be no different from any other man.
Or so she tried to tell herself. Yet in her heart she suspected it wasn’t true. Her other lovers had been strong and straightforward, making love like they did their cowboying. What would a billionaire like Drew be like in bed? He was used to being masterful and in control in the boardroom. Is that what he’d be like in