Page 4 of One Night in Paris

My mouth dropped open, but no words came out. Ordinarily, I didn’t find it too hard to speak to guys, but then, I didn’t have time to date back home, so most of the guys I talked to were customers. “I don’t know.”

The music changed to something up-tempo. Only a few people had been dancing before since the space was so small, but several younger couples got up now and began to dance near the middle of the bar. Watching them twist and turn had me smiling. The place suddenly got a lot livelier.

The next thing I knew, Kylee’s light grip on my wrist had tightened. Her chair pushed back, wood squealing against wood as the legs scraped the floor. “Come on,” she insisted, hauling me to my feet.

“Where are we going?” Turning around, I took a few clumsy steps in an attempt to keep up with her. Kylee was even tinier than I was, short and thin, but definitely no weakling.

“We’re going to dance,” she shouted above the music, only briefly glancing over her shoulder at me.

Kylee was a dancing machine. I’d been surprised she’d managed to stay in her seat this long. But when she cut through the crowd and kept walking toward the bar, I had to wonder, when she said “we,” had she been including herself?

“Hey, Logan!” She tapped the sexy man on the shoulder, a huge grin on her face, and waited for him to turn around.

My own face began to blaze again. Was my friend seriously asking this guy to dance with me? He would think I was a child, incapable of asking him to dance on my own.

Logan turned around and met her eyes, confused. The wheels turning in his head told me he was trying to place her and failing since he’d never met her before. “Yes?”

“My friend absolutely loves this song. Wanna dance?” Kylee grinned at him and then shifted so that he was looking at me.

Those green eyes locked with mine again. All I could do was stare at him for the longest moment before a wild giggle sprang from between my lips. “Really, Kylee?” I scolded her. “I don’t need your help.”

Kylee shrugged. “I just didn’t want either one of you to miss out on a good thing.” She winked at me and then danced her way back over to where Charlotte and Desiree were watching us, wide-eyed.

Turning to Logan, I opened my mouth to apologize, but before I could get the words out, he offered me his hand. “Would you care to dance, Harper?”

My eyes oscillated from his outstretched palm to his handsome face, my heart beating faster than the thumping bass. What was I waiting for?

“Yes, Logan. Yes, I would.” Confidently, I slipped my hand in his and let him take me a few steps away from the crowded bar, his hand settling on my hip as we moved in time to the music.

3

LOGAN

“How long have you been in Paris?” I asked Harper, the gorgeous brunette. The two of us swayed in time to a slower song than the one that had been playing when her friend had first dragged us to the dance floor.

“About a week.” Her brown eyes, flecked with gold like stardust, sparkled in the dim light of the club. The scent of her floral perfume was intoxicating. I had to keep reminding myself we weren’t alone in the bar. “We leave on Saturday. You?”

“Flew in the night before last,” I replied. “Leaving Sunday afternoon.” As much as I was enjoying dancing with her, having her body so close to mine was quickly becoming a distraction. Harper seemed like a cool girl. I wanted to get to know her better before I took her back to my hotel room. If she wanted to go. “Do you want to grab a table, and I’ll go get some more beer?”

Her smile widened. “Sure.” Glancing around, she spotted a table far enough away from her friends that we wouldn’t have to worry about them listening in on our conversation while I approached the bar.

Thankfully, the bartender was much more attentive this time. Taking the beers he offered me, I tipped him well and joined Harper at the quaint round table near the corner.

The amber lighting overhead gave her brown curls a bronze hue. Her skirt crept up her thigh a bit now that she was sitting, showing off tan, muscular legs. Damn, this girl was the real deal.

Setting her beer in front of her, I took a seat right next to her. The bartender had popped the tops since he hadn’t let me serve myself this time. Tossing back a swig, I met her eyes. From what I could tell, we were on the same wavelength. I felt myself twitch a bit and discreetly reached beneath the table to adjust myself. This girl was doing things to me already.

“So… where are you from?” Trying to be nonchalant, I took another sip, playing it cool.

“Boston,” she replied. “But I work all over the place now.”

“Really? I was going to say, you don’t seem to have a Boston accent. What do you do?”

She smiled at me. “I try not to give my secrets away to just anyone, Logan.” Her eyelashes fluttered in an almost wink. Was she talking about not having an accent or something else? “I own a lingerie company.”

I’d been in the process of taking a drink and almost choked. “Really?” My eyes trailed down the length of her, what I could see at the moment. Memories from earlier when I’d been checking her out at the bar and when I’d been coming back to the table filled in the rest. Hell yeah. I could see that. This woman could own her own company—and be one of the lingerie models.

“I create most of the designs myself,” she continued with a smile that pulled up the corners of her mouth in a mischievous grin.