He’d never had to scrimp in his life, and he was fascinated by how much that raised the stakes for her.
Her resilience in the face of potential disaster impressed him, too. She had character, and he responded to that almost as much as he responded to her curvy figure and full pink mouth. He wanted her, but he’d meant what he’d said. Inviting her to his townhouse wasn’t a proposition.
Still holding the phone, she glanced over at him. “I don’t know the address,” she said to the representative, “but I have someone here who can give it to you.” She gave Drew the phone. “They need an address for shipping the new credit card.”
“You bet.” He provided the necessary information and handed the phone back so she could complete the call, which didn’t take long.
After disconnecting, she returned the phone. “Thank you. They’re wiring money to a Western union office near your townhouse.” She sighed happily. “I feel so much better.”
“Good.”
“So where is your townhouse? I don’t recognize street names yet.”
“It’s on the ?le de la Cité, about three blocks from Notre Dame.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow. Prime real estate.”
“I like being in the heart of the city.” He’d paid a ridiculous amount of money for the place, but he was buying a piece of history, and that usually cost more.
“So you weren’t far from home when you saw me this morning.”
“No. I had tickets for the Louvre, so I’d decided to walk down there for the exercise and get my fine art fix.”
“The Louvre.” Her expression grew dreamy. “I can hardly wait to see it.”
“Maybe we could go later. I—” His phone chimed again. “Excuse me.” He checked the readout. Not critical. They could leave a voice mail.
“I’m sure you’re busy.”
“Everyone’s busy these days.” Especially him. As the only son of Stephen Eldridge, he’d felt obligated to succeed, and in a big way, too. He hadn’t wanted to ride on his father’s coattails. At thirty-two, he was a billionaire in his own right. He’d gotten there by taking risks, and, for the most part, they’d paid off handsomely. But wealth without social responsibility was, in his estimation, immoral. So he’d devoted himself to several causes.
The one currently in the works was especially dear to his heart—aid to orphans in war-torn areas of the world. Although he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he well knew many children hadn’t been so lucky. So he was working on organizing a dinner featuring many A-list performers, which would bring in a hefty amount if all the stars arrived.
But Drew had learned that working with famous people meant dealing with a few flakes. His staff could put the event together, but only his personal attention would get the famous faces he needed to actually show up.
Yet he was glad to do it . . . most of the time. This morning, though, he longed to give his attention to a certain tourist from Dallas. He hadn’t been a superhero and successfully recovered her backpack, but he had the resources to make up for her crummy introduction to the city, and he intended to use them.
After listening to his voice mail, he texted a reply. By that time, Henri was back with Melanie’s plain black rolling bag. Her presence in his townhouse was closer to becoming a reality, and that stirred his blood.
He liked the fact that she’d resisted his invitation to stay there. Despite knowing that he was a member of the wealthy Eldridge family and that he’d met her friend Astrid, she hadn’t leaped at the opportunity to stay under his roof. He’d known several women who, given similar circumstances, would have moved heaven and earth for such an invitation.
A man in his position couldn’t afford to be naive. Gold diggers were real, and they circled him constantly. Melanie, however, didn’t seem to give a damn. She might even consider it a point of honor not to care whether he was King Midas or not.
With a loud thump that jiggled the car, Henri loaded the suitcase in the trunk.
Drew looked over at Melanie. “What do you have in there, rocks?”
She laughed. “Almost as bad. Books. I’ve been collecting books on Paris ever since my friends and I scheduled the trip. I brought them all. When I packed, I had to sacrifice clothes for books, so I don’t have a lot with me.” She stuck out her foot. “These are my only shoes.”
“They’re practical.”
“Yes, but as you pointed out,