her in the past twenty-four hours with previous experience. Even the sex had been more dazzling than any she’d known.
Before the amazing sex, she’d planned to suggest a compromise that involved accepting some of Drew’s plan without abandoning herself to the entire program. But as it always did, sex had changed everything. She didn’t want to trundle off by herself and waste hours standing in line at the Eiffel Tower. She wanted to spend every available minute of her visit with Drew, either by his side as they enjoyed Paris or in his bed as they enjoyed each other.
She’d never in a million years expect this interlude to transfer to their lives in Dallas, but he was offering her paradise for the rest of her stay in Paris. Only a fool would say no to that. She wasn’t worried anymore that he’d spoil her for normal life, either. She was living a dream, and when she flew home, she’d wake up.
After eating every last morsel on her tray, she found a blow-dryer in the bathroom and styled her hair. She suspected that the clothes she was about to try on would require more than a casual ponytail. She was both curious and eager to see what a Paris shopping guru had picked out for her.
Finally, she put on her running shoes, because she had nothing else. Then she made her bed, replaced her towels on the rack, and picked up the breakfast tray. Servants were probably supposed to do all that, but she hadn’t been raised to leave chaos in her wake.
A middle-aged woman dressed in black slacks and a white blouse was polishing the banister on the second floor. She spoke only French, but she made it clear that she would take the tray from mademoiselle or know the reason why. Melanie relinquished the tray and followed the woman down the stairs.
The double doors to the formal parlor stood open, and sure enough, the elegant furniture was draped with a rainbow of colorful garments. Drew paced the room, his phone to his ear, but he turned when she came in and quickly ended the call.
His eyes were lit with excitement. “So? What do you think?”
She gazed at the beautiful clothes in colors she loved—red, purple, turquoise, and jade—outfits that would have been right at home in a Neiman Marcus trunk show. “It’s overwhelming, Drew. I couldn’t even wear all of these in the days I have left.”
“I know.” He didn’t sound worried about it. “Just pick what you want for now. You can take the rest ho–”
“No.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, no, thank you, I won’t be taking anything home with me. I don’t mean to sound ungracious, but I can’t accept clothes I won’t be wearing here. That’s . . .” She hesitated, not sure what she wanted to say.
“Opportunistic?”
She pointed a finger at him. “Exactly! I get that you want to show me the city your way. I understand you’ll have fun in the process and that I’ll need the right outfits. But scooping up this entire wardrobe and making off with it feels like I just won the jackpot in some televised game show. ‘Melanie Shaw! Come on down!’ I can’t do it.”
He studied her, a smile tugging at the corners of his sculpted mouth. “Does that mean you’re ready to go along with my plan?”
“Yes.” She wondered if he’d offered her the extra clothes on purpose, so that she’d reject that idea but accept the initial concept.
“Excellent.” His expression was triumphant. “Take whatever you want, but I do hope you’ll choose the red and black dress and the cape that goes with it.”
She’d been drawn to it from the moment she’d walked into the room. The abstract swirls of red against the black made her think of passion, and passion made her think of Drew. “Where would I wear it?”
“At Les Folies Bergère,” he said. “I have tickets for tonight.”
Her gaze met his. She was intensely curious about the show, but she’d crossed it off her list once her friends had canceled. Going alone hadn’t sounded like much fun. Seeing it with Drew, however, would be a total turn-on. “I’d love that,” she said. “And I’ll wear the dress.”
***
They spent most of the afternoon at the Musée d’Orsay, because Melanie wanted a destination that allowed them to walk along the Seine both there and back. Once again, she was transfixed by the artwork, and she admitted that she’d done a little painting herself