One Night With a Billionaire - By VickiLewis Thompson Page 0,5

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 Île 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, they label me. I don’t look French.”

“Do you want to?” He thought she looked perfectly fine as she was.

She seemed to consider that. “I guess not.”

He liked that answer. In his mind, people should be who they were, instead of pretending to be someone they weren’t.

Henri climbed into the driver’s seat. “C’est bien?”

Belatedly, Drew remembered her scraped hands. “Do you want the Neosporin out of your suitcase before we take off?”

“That’s okay. My hands don’t sting anymore. I can get it later.”

“Then we’re off.” Drew nodded to his driver. As the car pulled away from the curb, he blew out a breath. Mission accomplished. He’d succeeded in scooping up his lady fair and carrying her out of harm’s way. Of course, part of him realized that Melanie would have probably spent her nights at that hotel without encountering a problem. But Drew wasn’t dealing in logic