Curves of the French Riviera by Krista Lakes Page B

the steps, posing like a movie star. Laura moved around, snapping photos like a paparazzi, urging Megan to pose. She felt a little silly, but Laura kept shouting encouragement from behind the camera. When Megan got to the bottom of the stairs, Laura showed her the pictures in the viewer. Megan wanted to gasp at them. She looked gorgeous- like a real movie star. She could feel her confidence rising, and she decided she liked it.
    “Told you- you look good tonight! Holy cow Megs- you look amazing in these!” Laura praised her as she flipped through the snapshots. Megan went to grab the camera to take some of Laura coming down the stairs, but Laura danced the camera out of her reach. “Nope, just you coming down those stairs this evening. We can do me tomorrow.” Megan let her keep the camera, knowing that her friend was giving her this moment. Laura knew that Megan would compare their pictures and she wanted her friend to be the pretty one tonight, especially after the beach incident. Megan hugged her friend in a silent thank you as they started walking back towards the waterfront to a row of street vendors.
    Artisans sold paintings and handmade jewelry to the tourists that walked up and down the street. There was a celebratory quality to it that both girls enjoyed. They stopped to look at a man bending wire into jewelry, easily turning names into wearable art. The man next to him was drawing animals in the shapes of letters to spell out a child’s name. English and French mixed with laughter up and down the shopping lanes as tourists enjoyed their holiday. It didn’t take long to reach the end of the sellers and head towards the docks.
    Huge yachts bobbed gently on the water as they walked up the boardwalk. They laughed as they walked arm in arm, looking at the boat names, giggling about what they would name their own boat if they had one. As they came alongside one of the larger sailing vessels near the end of the dock, a man on the deck hailed them.
    “Bon soir, mademoiselles!”
    The two girls turned and smiled at him, stopping in front of his ship. There was no one else around on the dark pier. He walked to the railing of his boat to speak with them more easily. He was tall and well built, appearing to be in his late 20s or early 30s, his jet black hair messy from being in the wind. Even in the shadows of evening Megan thought he might be the most handsome man she had ever seen. He spoke in English, but with just enough of a French accent to betray his origins. Megan thought he sounded incredibly sexy.
    “What are you two lovely ladies doing walking around without your bodyguards? The paparazzi will surely catch you,” he flirted across the water at them. Megan wasn’t sure, but it seemed as if his eyes lingered longer on her than on Laura. She quickly dismissed the thought. No one’s eyes stayed longer on her than Laura.
    “We just evaded the paparazzi- they were distracted by all the tourists in town while we made our escape,” called Laura back to him. He laughed a rich hearty sound that made Megan’s knees feel weak. She thought she could listen to that sound all day.
    “That is most fortunate! Are you two staying in town for long?” His dark eyes seemed to draw Megan in, even from across the railing. She felt like he was pulling her into him, and she consciously had to not step forward and she was glad her arm was still linked with Laura’s so she wouldn’t be tempted.
    “We are. My aunt lives in town and we are staying with her for a few days.” Megan spoke before she even realized it. She always let Laura do the talking in these situations. Her voice sounded strangely confident in her ears.
    “Magnifique! Perhaps tomorrow you two would like to ride out to sea with me? I would like to practice my English with some Americans if you have the time.” His smile was warm and welcoming.
    “That sounds wonderful, but we will have to check with our Aunt,” answered Laura quickly. Megan almost hit her;