Her Best Match (The Best Girls 1)

A thick band seemed to tighten around Anne’s chest. “I have to be honest, Henri. This is moving too fast for me.”

“I only have hours left to convince you.” Henri lifted Anne’s hand to his lips. “For me, I am glad to feel something again.”

Henri lifted her arm and turned her hand over to press a gentle kiss on her wrist. She watched as he moved up to kiss the inside of her elbow. She felt a tingle deep inside as his lips caressed her skin. His hand tilted her chin toward him, and he moved his lips toward hers. He touched his mouth against hers, tenderly at first. Then his hand moved behind her head, and his kiss became more urgent. Anne’s heart raced as she gave in to her need, so long denied. She returned his kiss with passion, her body humming, her heart pounding. When he finally pulled back, releasing their kiss, both of them were breathing rapidly.

“Mon dieu! You have not forgotten how

to kiss.”

Anne fanned her flushed face. “But I forgot how nice it is to be kissed. To be well-kissed.”

“So you will come to Paris, mon bel ange? Just one time? Just one chance?”

“But what about work?”

“In three weeks, you have your holiday, Thanksgiving?”

“Yes… We’re off Wednesday through Friday.”

“So you can come to Paris on Tuesday night. We will have four days together.”

“But… I was planning to see my father during the holidays.”

Henri leaned toward Anne and nuzzled her neck below her ear. “You could see your father at Christmas, I think.”

Anne felt a shiver go down her spine. “Yes, I think I could see Dad at Christmas, after all. I guess I’m going to Paris.”

Then she sat up with excitement. “And I get to use my passport—I’ll get my first stamp.”

The limousine returned them to the front of Anne’s apartment. Anne, who’d abandoned her shoes on the trip, jumped out of the door with them in one hand, holding her dress up so she wouldn’t trip. She squealed as she dashed across the cold sidewalk in bare feet with Henri chasing behind her. They pushed through the doors into the lobby, laughing. She spied Antonio as she was running past and stopped to give him a hug. His mouth dropped open as he noticed her dress and makeover. Though some of the makeup had worn off, her cheeks were rosy and her face was glowing.

“You look hot, Anne. If I weren’t going out with Rayna, I’d be coming after you.”

“Thanks, Antonio. But don’t get used to it—this is a temporary change.”

Henri’s arms wrapped around her. “I fell for you without the fancy dress. You were beautiful already.”

Antonio raised his eyebrows. “Anne, you’ve been keeping secrets. Why haven’t I heard about your boyfriend?”

“Antonio, this is Henri. Henri this is Antonio—he keeps me safe in my home here.”

Henri bowed to Antonio. “I am grateful to you for keeping her safe—mon bel ange.”

Anne pulled Henri away to say goodnight. “May I come upstairs? For coffee? That is all, I promise.”

“Promise?”

“I do not wish the night to end.”

Anne relented, unable to resist his pleading green eyes. “Just coffee. No hanky-panky.”

He followed her to the elevator. “What is hanky-panky? It sounds delicious—I might be hungry.”

Anne struggled to explain the term until she noticed Henri was suppressing a laugh. “You’re teasing me, again. Why am I so gullible?” She punched him playfully. “At least I get to hit your arm and feel your muscles.”

Anne dashed ahead of Henri when she opened her apartment door, hurrying in to shut the bathroom door and hide her mess. Henri surveyed the small living area and relaxed onto the comfy sofa. Anne started a pot of decaf coffee before joining Henri on the couch.

“Okay Henri, I said I would come to Paris, and I will. But I just don’t see how it would ever work long term. You can’t move to New York because of work. I can’t move to Paris because of my family.”