or mannerly—heck, I even forgot my name.
“Ermagawd,” I said as the silky texture of the chocolate and the whipped cream slid over my tongue and down my throat in the most exquisite explosion of bittersweet. I felt as if taste buds that had been dormant my entire life were suddenly awake and clamoring for more.
I glanced at Jason and said, “I think I’m having a religious experience here.”
He laughed. He spooned up more of his chocolat chaud and said, “I know. I love it so much I think I might marry it.”
I sipped more chocolate and then decided I was ready for a macaron. I nudged one of the plates toward him and said, “Together?”
“Agreed. Pistachio first?”
I nodded, and we each reached for a pale-green cream-filled meringue shaped like a cookie. At the same time, we took a bite. It was glorious. The crunchy, chewy meringue cookie with the creamy center melted in my mouth, leaving the delightfully delicate aftertaste of pistachio.
“So good,” he said. “I may need a box of these to go.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I said. “I don’t even want to think about how many calories we’re consuming.”
“We’re in Paris—calories don’t count here.” He glanced at me, considering. “I never would have guessed you for having a sweet tooth, Martin.”
“Oh, I don’t have one,” I said. “I have many.” Then I smiled at him, showing my teeth.
“Well, your restraint at the office is unparalleled,” he said. “Whenever the Friday doughnuts appear, I never see you crack. You don’t even have one.”
“Because if I did, I’d eat five,” I said. “I’m a weak, weak woman when tempted.”
“Is that so?” he asked. And just like that, we weren’t talking about doughnuts anymore.
I met his gaze and felt the awareness roll between us like a ripple on the luscious chocolate in my cup. There was no ignoring it or denying it, but I wasn’t sure what to do with it either. Was the attraction real or just a fallout from my bitter disappointment in Jean Claude? Or perhaps it was manufactured out of the magic of being in Paris and had no real substance? Maybe I’d look at Jason tomorrow and feel nothing but my usual exasperation for him.
A man in an apron entered the dining area and began putting up the chairs, breaking the moment. He glanced at us and began to sing. It was not a song I recognized, but his voice was lovely and the tune made me smile. Every now and then, he would glance at us, wag his thick eyebrows, smile, and continue crooning.
“Do you suppose he wants a tip?” Jason asked. “Because truly, I have no idea what he’s singing. Do you?”
“Not a clue,” I said. “But he’s certainly enjoying himself.”
The serenade continued, and when the pretty brunette from the counter stopped by our table with the check, she glanced at Jason and asked, “Do you know the song?”
“No,” he said.
The woman glanced at him from beneath her eyelashes and said, “It is ‘Donnons-nous cette chance.’ How you say—give us a chance.”
Her invitation could not have been clearer if she’d stripped naked and crooked her finger at him. Knightley was not taking the hint.
“He has an excellent singing voice,” he said. He turned to me. “Don’t you think?”
“Most definitely,” I agreed.
I glanced around the café and realized we were the last ones here. I exchanged an amused look with Jason, and we made quick work of the remaining macarons and our chocolate.
Back out in the night, our cab was still at the curb. As Jason helped me into the back, he explained, “I figured having him wait was smarter than trying to find a taxi when we were finished.”
The neighborhood was quiet for being in the middle of the city, and I nodded. “Good plan.”
We were silent as we zipped through Paris back to our apartments. I tried not to think about what would happen when we arrived. I knew I was still smarting from my horrible evening with Jean Claude, but the night out with Jason had obliterated the bad memories, and for that I would be ever grateful. But did that mean there was more here? I didn’t know. And even if there was, there were serious ramifications to an office romance, and I was uncomfortable even thinking about it.
The cab pulled up in front of our door, and Jason helped me out and then settled the fare. I stood on the sidewalk, shivering in his jacket while waiting and wondering if I