he kissed a woman, he liked to have some guesstimate of how that would be received. With Melanie he hadn’t a clue.
“Is that a picnic basket for us?”
“Yep. We’ll eat it in the car. You said you weren’t hungry, but you will be.”
“I’m hungry now. But why will we eat it in the car instead of on a bench somewhere? Aren’t we going to walk to the Louvre?” She looked as if she’d be fine with that.
“We could, but then you might not have as much energy for the museum. You’ll want to see as much as you can before you get tuckered out. It’s a big place.”
“Good point. And we can eat on the way. It’s hard to eat and walk, at least for me.”
“For me, too.” He smiled at her because she made him want to. That was worth a lot all by itself.
Henri picked them up and took them to Western Union, where cash was indeed waiting for Melanie. Her elation touched him. Being penniless had obviously been eating at her more than he’d realized.
The trip to the Louvre was an adventure during which Melanie tried to eat and keep track of everything they passed at the same time. He repeated We’ll come back more times than he could count, but Melanie was an in-the-moment kind of girl who wanted to absorb everything that was in her field of vision.
Drew couldn’t help thinking of all he’d have missed if she hadn’t been mugged. If the thieves hadn’t come along, he would have exchanged a few words with her in front of Notre Dame. He might have given her his card. But she wouldn’t have contacted him. She would have been off to see the city without him because she wouldn’t have wanted to impose. Those bastards, scum that they were, had done him a favor.
Henri dropped them off, and Drew glanced at his watch. Melanie was a trouper, but he’d be surprised if she made it much longer than three hours, all things considered. Whatever time they spent here would be special for him, though, because he’d be seeing the wonders within these walls with someone who had never been here. Her enthusiasm would carry them along on a wave of discovery . . . and awe.
She didn’t start to droop until well past the four-hour mark. He was impressed. Despite all the walking they’d done, she remained cheerful, even as she reluctantly admitted being tired. As they left the museum, she raved about what she’d seen.
He drank in her excitement and wondered how in hell he was going to show her Paris the way he longed to, by pulling out all the stops. He wanted to arrange a special tour of the Louvre so she could stand in front of the Mona Lisa all by herself instead of having to peer over the heads of other visitors. He wanted to stage a private tour of the Eiffel Tower followed by an after-hours dinner in their restaurant. He wanted to take her on a moonlit boat ride along the Seine in a luxury yacht, and walk with her through the soaring arches of Notre Dame before the cathedral opened to the public.
He’d drop a bundle doing that, but he didn’t care. Showing his favorite places to someone who would see them the same way he did would be worth it. Maybe he could make her understand that and she’d stop using her mental calculator every blessed second. It was worth a try.
As they walked away from the Louvre, he suggested they stop at a sidewalk café for some wine and cheese before calling Henri to pick them up. As he’d expected, she was enchanted by the idea of doing something so Parisian. So far, so good.
He chose a place right out of a postcard, with round metal tables and the distinctive tan wicker chairs that were so common in the cafés around town. There was a slight nip in the air, but her hoodie should keep her warm enough for them to stay outside. That was, after all, the way to best enjoy the experience.
After they were seated he picked up the wine menu. Because it was hard to get bad wine in Paris, he suggested a medium-priced bottle, and she seemed relieved.
They talked some more about the Louvre and the thrill of gazing at original sculptures and paintings by world-famous artists. He asked how she spent her time back in Dallas and found out she worked