Under My Skin: A Contemporary Romance Set in Paris (Bistro La Bohème Book 2) by Alix Nichols Page A

kind people. Their souls
are so full of warmth they radiate the excess of it all around them. And their
hearts are so full of love that it gives me hope for humanity. To Lena and Rob.
Hip hip hooray!”
    Among the hoorays and clinking of wine
glasses that followed, Mat stole a glance at Jeanne and caught her staring at
him. Her gaze was dark with something intense, something powerful that he
hadn’t seen before. She looked at him as if he were a hero. Or a Viking god.
    Or the only man on Earth.
    He swallowed hard, shaken by what he’d
glimpsed.
    She blinked, stretched her lips into a polite
smile and turned to Didier.
    Mat’s mind raced. Was
it . . . ? Could it be . . . ?
    He didn’t dare put his question into words,
but for the rest of the evening he couldn’t think of anything else. Not even as
he held Cécile in his arms while they danced. Nor when he sizzled in guilty
jealousy as he watched Didier dance with Jeanne and wondered if they shared a
room tonight. Nor when Rob gave him a pat on the back and said, “Nice speech, mon
pote . Oh, and by the way, you are a sappy cornball.”
    Mat smiled distractedly and, as Rob walked
away, he finally allowed his brain to formulate the shocking question.
    Could Jeanne have feelings for me?
    The notion was both exhilarating and sad.
Because he didn’t doubt that what he had for her—now as four years
ago—was all-consuming, obsessive lust.
    Nothing more.
    ***

Jeanne woke up early, her head pounding and her mouth dry.
    Last night was a blur. She’d had too much to drink, tried too hard to
smile at Didier’s remarks, and resist the urge to look at Mat. Who had stared
at her too often to pass for casual interest. But his girlfriend had remained
serene and unperturbed. Maybe she didn’t notice Mat’s scorching looks. Maybe
she did, but was too well-bred to make a scene or even show she was affected.
    Cécile was a woman of class.
    Jeanne smirked. Even Amanda would envy Cécile’s polished looks, graceful
bearing, and impeccable manners. Everything about her, from her shiny smooth
hair and thin nose to her polished voice and long fingers with perfect
fingernails, screamed refinement. Screamed quality. She was the kind of woman
who would even pee with style and poise. She was the kind of woman a man such
as Mat would want for a life partner.
    Drop the conditional, hon, Jeanne told herself.
    She was the woman Mat wanted for a life partner.
    Jeanne wondered if Didier had noticed what was going on last night. They
still hadn’t crossed the boundary between occasional dates and a relationship.
She wasn’t sure they ever would. It was heartwarming and flattering that he
wanted more than a business partnership. But flattering wasn’t enough. She
didn’t fancy him, at least not yet. A month ago, when Didier tried to kiss her,
she told him as much. He said he’d wait. She promised herself she’d nurture any
embryonic feeling she might develop for him.
    But deep inside she suspected Mat was right.
    They weren’t a good match.
    Jeanne showered, pulled on her jeans, and packed her travel bag. The
guests were to gather in the hotel’s garden in two hours for a copious brunch.
After a moment’s hesitation, she threw on a sweater, grabbed her book, and
headed out to the terrace.
    “I knew you’d show up. Not a late sleeper, huh?” Lena greeted her from a
lounge chair.
    Jeanne slumped down next to her. “What are you doing here?
Shouldn’t you be fast asleep, exhausted from the wedding night ?”
    “Ha-ha.” Lena stretched her arms. “I wish I could sleep for a couple more
hours though . . .”
    “You’re telling me.”
    “Is Didier still asleep?” Lena asked a little too innocently.
    “I wouldn’t know. We booked separate rooms and spent the night in
different beds, if that’s what you’re trying to establish.”
    “Good.”
    Jeanne raised her brows.
    “I know he’s being super nice to you and all, but . . .
I’m not sure he’s a good person,