He raised the other glass, giving her a choice of either. His eyes turned serious. ‘Whichever you prefer.’
Her cheeks flushed. He thought she was stalling because she didn’t trust him. In case he’d slipped something into one of the glasses.
It was the sort of thing that would have occurred to her once, for in her real life she was always cautious. But right now she was struggling to absorb the fact she was with the most charming, attractive man she’d ever met. The fact that he offered both reassured her.
She took a glass, meeting his eyes, ignoring the tingly sensation where their fingers brushed. ‘Is it champagne from the Champagne region?’
‘Of course. That’s the only wine that can use the name. You like champagne?’
‘I’ve never tried it.’
He blinked, astonishment on his face. ‘Vraiment?’
‘Really.’ Imogen smiled at his shock. ‘I’m from Australia.’
‘No, no.’ He shook his head. ‘I happen to know the Australians import French wine as well as exporting theirs. Champagne travels the world.’
She shrugged, enjoying his disbelief. ‘That doesn’t mean I’ve drunk it.’ She eyed the wine with excitement. What better place to taste her first champagne than Paris?
‘In that case, the occasion deserves a toast. To new friends.’ His smile transformed his face from fascinating to magnetic. Imogen inhaled sharply, her lungs pushing at her ribcage. Her fingers tightened on the glass. That smile, this man, made her feel acutely aware of herself as a woman with desires she’d all but forgotten.
Stop it! You’ve seen men smile before.
Not like this. This was like standing in a shaft of sunshine. And it was an amazing antidote to the chill weight of despair. How could she dwell on despair when he looked at her that way?
She lifted her glass. ‘And to new experiences.’
She sipped, feeling the effervescence on the roof of her mouth. ‘I like that it’s not too sweet. I can taste...pears, is it?’
He drank too, and she was riveted by the sight of his strong throat and the ripple of movement as he swallowed.
Imogen frowned. There was nothing sexy about a man’s throat. Was there? There never had been before and she worked surrounded by men.
But none of them were Thierry Girard.
‘You’re right. Definitely pears.’ He watched her over the rim of the glass. ‘To new experiences? You have some planned?’
Imogen shrugged. ‘A few.’
‘Tell me.’ When she hesitated he added, ‘Please. I’d like to know.’
‘Why?’ The word shot out, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Typical of her to sound gauche rather than sophisticated. She just wasn’t used to male attention. She was the serious, reserved sister, not the gregarious one with a flock of admirers.
‘Because I’m interested in you.’
‘Seriously?’ As soon as the word escaped heat scalded her throat and face. She squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Tell me I didn’t say that.’
A rich chuckle snagged at her senses, making her eyes pop open. If his smile was gorgeous, his laugh was... She couldn’t think of a word to describe the molten-chocolate swirl enveloping her.
‘Why don’t you tell me about these new experiences instead?’
Imogen opened her mouth to ask if he was really interested in hearing about them then snapped it shut.
Here was a wonderful new adventure, flirting with a gorgeous French hunk over champagne. She wasn’t going to spoil it by being herself. She was going to go with the flow. This trip was about stepping out of her shell, tasting life’s excitement.
Chatting with Thierry Girard was the most exciting thing that had happened to her in ages.
‘I’ve got a list. Things I want to do.’
‘In Paris?’ She loved the way his eyes crinkled at the corner when he smiled.
‘Not just here. I’m away from home for a month and a half but I’m only in Paris a fortnight.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m already realising my plans were too ambitious. I won’t fit everything in.’
‘That gives you a reason to return. You can do more on your next visit.’
His eyes were almost warm enough to dispel the wintry chill that descended at his words. There’d be no return visit, no second chance.
She had one shot at living to the max. She’d make the most of it, even if it meant stepping out of her comfort zone. She tossed back another mouthful of champagne, relishing the little starbursts on her tongue.