The Eiffel Tower stood towering above them, brightly lit with thousands of golden lights. Tally twisted around and stared disbelievingly at Cash. When he’d put her on a plane, it had been obvious they weren’t exactly going down to the local Indian for a curry, but she’d never imagined this.

“You brought me to Paris? Cash, we’re in Paris.” She felt herself glowing from the inside out, and she was smiling so wide her cheeks began to hurt. “I’ve never been to Paris.”

He flashed a grin. “That’s what I hoped. I wanted our first date to be different. Special.”

“Well, you’ve achieved that.” She stuck her head back out of the window, unable to tear her gaze away. The Eiffel Tower was more magnificent in reality than a thousand pictures could hope to show. She wished she had a better camera than the one on her phone.

The chauffeur opened the car door and helped her out. Cash followed directly behind, and as he slipped his arm around her waist, she leaned into his body. She tugged her phone out of her bag and took a few shots. “It’s amazing.”

Cash pointed upwards towards the top of the structure. “That’s where we’re going for dinner.”

Tally craned her neck, eyes shielded behind her hand, before she met Cash’s excited gaze and broad grin. “Cash, I’m sorry. I can’t go up there. I’m afraid of heights.”

His smile fell, and he gaped at her as his excitement turned to horror. “You’re kidding.”

“Yeah, I am,” she said, giving his shoulder a playful nudge. “I love heights.”

Cash eased her around to face him. The lights from the Eiffel Tower were reflected in his eyes, which were twinkling with mischievous intent. “Ah, so that’s how we’re playing tonight. Okay, sweetness, let’s play. But I warn you: I play hard. And I play to win.”

She grinned. “Bring it on.”

Cash leaned in and kissed her hard right under the arcs of the tower. When he withdrew, the earlier playful glint in his eyes had disappeared, replaced by a look that made her knees tremble and her head spin.

“Dinner first,” he said.

Her stomach flipped at the not-so-hidden meaning behind his comment. Every fibre of her being was vibrating with barely contained anticipation as Cash took her hand and led her to some stone steps covered with a canopy that read “Le Jules Verne.” A glass elevator whisked them to the second floor of the tower, opening onto an opulent restaurant. As they stepped inside, the smell of freshly baked bread wafted over.

“I’m a sucker for fresh bread,” she said.

Cash smiled. “Me too.”

A waiting staff member showed them to a generously proportioned table adorned with a vase of fresh white lilies. The table overlooked a large, grassy rectangular area with lights on either side.

As the waiter pulled out her chair, Tally peered through the window. “Wow, what a view.” She tucked her skirt beneath her as she sat down.

“Yeah, it’s quite something.”

Cash ordered the wine while Tally continued to stare out of the window at people milling about far below. She was so high up they looked like Lego figures.

“Is that some sort of a park?” she asked Cash after the waiter had retreated.

“Yeah. Champ de Mars. In the past, it was used as a training ground for the military, but now it’s a public space.”

“It’s so beautiful.”

“Compared to you, it’s ugly.”

She snorted. “You need glasses.”

The waiter returned with the wine before Cash could answer, but it was hard to miss the slight shake of his head. He took a sip of the wine and gave a curt nod. The waiter filled her glass before returning to fill Cash’s.

“Why do you do that?” he said as soon as the waiter had moved away.

“Do what?”

“Say things that are so self-deprecating. If you keep telling people bad things about yourself, they’ll start to believe them.”

Tally gnawed the inside of her cheek. Cash’s dressing-down took her back to her form teacher at school, who had mastered the art. “I have issues.” She softened her comment with a grin, but Cash simply clenched his jaw and frowned at her.

“Well, I want you to stop.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “There are many special things about you, Natalia McKenzie—your sharp mind, quick wit, sense of humour, great smile, and perfectly curvaceous body. So you’re not a stick-thin model. Who cares?”

She sighed and tried to tug her hand from his, which proved impossible when his grip tightened. “I do, and you do. I’ve got eyes, Cash. Every woman you’ve ever been seen in public with is about six stone wet through, tall, blond—the complete opposite to me.”

Cash rubbed his free hand over his stubble and gazed at her with a pensive expression. “Since you blew into my life, I’ve begun to question things I never imagined I’d need to examine that closely.”

“Like what?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and her throat tightened.

He shook his head. “You’re right. You’re not my type. Try as I might, I can’t figure out why I’m here.”

Tally winced, the pain from his words as real as if he had shoved a knife into her sternum and twisted it for good measure. He could have made the night a lot cheaper for himself by taking her to a local restaurant in London and letting her down gently. At least then she’d have been able to get home under her own steam to lick her wounds.

She sipped her wine as tears began to build. She blinked furiously. There was no way she was crying in front of him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

His phone rang, and he grimaced as he saw the caller. “Sorry, I need to get this.” He swiped at the screen. “Brad, this had better be good.”

Taking her opportunity while he was on the phone, Tally picked up her handbag and got to her feet. Her knees trembled, and she locked her spine in place.

“You okay?” Cash said, cutting his conversation as he held a hand over his phone’s microphone.

“I need the bathroom.”

Cash frowned, but he didn’t question her as he returned to his call. Tally glanced around. Unable to immediately spot the ladies’ room, she managed to stop a passing waiter. He led her to a narrow corridor where the bathroom door was skilfully hidden from view. Tally pushed it open. Empty. Thank goodness for that. She walked into the first cubicle and plonked herself on the toilet seat. She was so close to tears, to really letting go and bawling, but she was going to wait until she got home to do that.

She couldn’t understand why Cash had he brought her all this way if he was going to simply shoot her down. If he’d changed his mind about their date when he was in Australia, then he should have told her. She’d have been disappointed, but she’d have got over it.

She pulled out several sheets of toilet paper and blew her nose. She’d have to face him sooner or later. Better to go out there with her head held high and, as politely as she could manage, ask him to take her home. And if he refused, she’d get a cab to the airport and grab the first flight to the UK.

She got to her feet and flushed the toilet. After washing her hands, she touched up her make up where an unwanted tear had smudged her mascara. With a deep breath, she opened the door to the bathroom, only to find Cash propping himself up against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other as he tapped into his phone

“Natalia, what’s wrong?” he said as she walked out.

 “I want to go home.”

Cash frowned. “Why?”

She went to push past him, but he bridged his arm across the space. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“As you said, Cash, I’m not your type,” She sighed heavily. “Just let me go.”

Cash paused, his frown deepening. If he was faking confusion, he could have a career as an actor when he’d finished with tennis. He uncrossed his legs and curved a warm hand around her jaw. Tilting her chin upwards, he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. His head lowered slowly, and he captured her mouth. His kiss started off soft, gentle, exploratory, almost as though he was expecting her to push him away, but when an involuntary moan rumbled through her chest, he pinned her to the wall with his hips. Burying his hands in her hair, he ravaged her mouth. Gone were the tender, sweet kisses. This Cash was the same one he’d been in the house he’d taken her to the first time they had kissed. He consumed her.

Her head began to spin. She struggled to get enough air into her lungs, and with a monumental effort, she twisted her head, breaking their kiss.

She gasped. “I can’t breathe.” Cash cupped her chin once more, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes were heated at first, but then they softened, and he gently clasped her face between his palms.

“Correct, sweetness. You’re not my type. But the point you’re missing is that since I met you, you’re the only fucking woman I want.”