Mistress for Hire Read Free Page B

Mademoiselle Sommers.”
    “I came for a job, not lunch.” She refused to humble herself to him.
    His eyebrow quirked up, then he handed her the phone. “Talk to this man—in English. I can’t understand him. His name is Mr. Sanford.”
    Nikki took the phone and it slipped against her sweaty palm. “Mr. Sanford? This is Nikki Sommers, Monsieur Beauvais’s assistant. He was called away suddenly and has asked me to speak with you.”
    “Well, it’s about time we got a translator,” the voice on the other end drawled. “Mister Boo-vay is a wonderful man, but he’s got an accent on him as thick as a wad of chewin’ tobaccy.” Mr. Sanford proceeded to tell Nikki about the problems he’d had with throat cancer and how organic food had saved his life and he sure appreciated Mr. Beauvais’s belief in his product. “Now let me tell ya about the meetin’ details we’ve set up.”
    By the time Nikki finished taking notes, she’d managed to prop herself on the corner of Monsieur Beauvais’s desk. How did she get there? Beauvais leaned back in his chair, his very solid shoulders filling the expanse of leather. His dark brown hair stood ruffled at the top as if he’d been running his hands through it. Stormy blue-gray eyes caught hers and again there was a breath-stopping connection.
    A man.
    A woman.
    An awareness .
    Sliding into his lap would be so easy .
    Nikki practically threw the phone back at him and scrambled down. But she didn’t leave. Instead, she stood in front of Beauvais’ desk, glancing down at the notepad as she gave him a report on what Mr. Sanford had in mind for their next meeting. If he didn’t want her, then at least it wouldn’t be for lack of trying. Want her, strictly as an assistant, her conscience scolded, as her cheeks heated.
    Beauvais gestured for her to sit on one of the leather chairs across from his desk. Smoothing her wool skirt over her legging-clad knees, she pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t say anything stupid.
    He raised an eyebrow. “What made you change your mind?”
    “I want to stay in Paris.”
    She pushed her glasses up her nose and stared Beauvais down. Big mistake, as he returned her gaze with an intensity she’d never encountered. Her throat went dry.
    “For how long? Your sister only stayed for three months.”
    “Jessica worked here?”
    “Work? More like trouble-making.”
    A sudden rustle of wings on the window ledge behind Beauvais captured the attention of both of them. They watched as the puffed-up male courted the submissive female. Gérard laughed out loud. “Paris. The city of love.”
    Love? Looked like animal attraction to her. Nikki whisked off her glasses and polished them with the sleeve of her sweater, simply for something to keep her hands and eyes occupied. When she looked up, the air rippled between them as they studied each other. Beauvais’s mouth still twitched up as he took in every detail. She wondered if he was amused by the birds or by her.
    He sat back, elbows on the arms of his chair, fingers steepled in front of his mouth. The mouth that devoured macarons as if they were orgasmic bombs. She forced her gaze from his mouth to his eyes.
    “Do you know where Jessica is?” Nikki asked hopefully as she leaned forward. “I’ve been trying to reach her.” Clearly, there was no love lost between the two of them, but if she could at least talk to her sister for a minute, it would ease her mind.
    Beauvais picked up a pen and juggled it round and round until Nikki felt dizzy.
    “I understand she left for Holland six months ago.”
    Nikki slumped back in her seat. She could have easily passed her sister on the streets of Amsterdam. “Did she leave a number? Maybe it’s different than the one I have. You know how it’s so easy to lose a cell phone.” Why couldn’t she shut up? He obviously didn’t care to be interrogated. What if they had been lovers and Jessica’s bitter email about Beauvais had simply been the aftermath