Her Best Match (The Best Girls 1)

Henri smirked at Anne. “Do you always worry so much?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so. I just worry about things.” Still holding up the hem of her dress as she walked, Anne left her heels by the bedroom door.

“But I do not. I do not worry about things.”

“Yes, I’m aware. You don’t seem to worry about anything.”

“You worry too much, and I do not worry enough. Oui? So together we are perfect.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “I’m fixin’ to get our coffee. Do you want cream or sugar?”

“No, just black. You are enough sweet for me.”

“Henri, you’re so corny.” She used the Keurig to prepare two cups of coffee and carried them to the couch. She set the steaming mugs on the coffee table and perched beside Henri. “It’s been a long time since somebody sweet-talked me. And it sounds so much better with that sexy French accent.”

“Oui, oui! I am counting on your inability to resist my accent.” He leaned toward her, his lips moving toward her neck, but a knock at the door made both of them jump.

“Who could that be?” She ran to the door and peeped through the hole. “It’s Mr. Gherring. Should you hide?”

“I will not hide. I have done nothing wrong.”

“Right, right… I just panicked. I’m going to open the door.” Anne cracked it open and blocked the doorway.

“Hi Mr. Gherring. Did you need something?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He peered over her shoulder, his eyes focusing on Henri.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay? Henri has been a perfect gentleman.”

“Just checking on you. I’m glad you’re home safely.”

“Yes, well thanks again—” Anne started to shut the door, but Gherring stuck his foot in the way.

“Wait. Tell Henri my limousine is available now if he’d like a ride to his hotel. I just wanted to offer.”

Henri sauntered over to the door, placing a possessive arm around Anne’s waist. “Thanks Gherring, but I do not need your limousine tonight. Good night.”

Gherring’s eyes narrowed as Henri shut the door in his face.

Anne put her hands on her hips. “Henri! You made it sound like you’re spending the night.”

“I did?” He opened his eyes wide.

“You know good and well what you made him think. I know it seems silly to you, but I’m old-fashioned about this. I don’t want anyone to think I’m that kind of girl. I want to protect my reputation.”

“I will tell him the truth tomorrow. I will sacrifice my reputation for your reputation.” He plastered his hand over his heart and spoke with such drama in his voice, Anne started laughing.

“Okay, you’re forgiven. But only if you let him know the truth.”

“Maybe, we should do as he thinks we are doing, instead?” He leaned in close. “Are you listening? Do you hear my sexy accent? N'est-ce pas? Mon bel ange?”

Anne backed away and put her hands over her ears. “Henri, you promised.”

“Yes, I promised.” He shook his head as his lips formed a pout. “But maybe, a little, I hoped you would change your mind.” He smiled and put up his hands to stop her as she began to protest again. “No, I will be good. Do not be mad at me—we will just drink coffee, oui?”

“Yes, just coffee.”

“And maybe one more kiss? Only one? Seulement? A goodbye kiss for three weeks?”