I stared at my closed door off and on throughout the morning, half expecting Gray to barge in at any moment. He had the right, but if he possessed any knowledge about me as a person, he wouldn’t try it.

I went over scripts and finalized some understudies I wanted to test, and when my stomach grumbled loudly, I glanced up at the clock. Noon. A good time to stop for lunch. I favored the café on the corner across from the theater. They made heavenly croissant sandwiches. Not exactly health food, but I considered the almost mile I walked back and forth to work every day enough exercise to stave off the effects of too many carbs. And. . .when in Paris right?

I grabbed my wallet and phone and stuffed them into my pocket, leaving my bag as I hated lugging it around on quick trips.

The weather was warm with a nice mid-summer breeze. Any other day, I’d have spent my lunch people watching outside the café. But I had more work to do, and I wanted to leave earlier in the evening than usual. Which, in my world, meant I wanted to leave before it got dark. As I carefully navigated the cobblestones in my low heels, I spotted a familiar face at my usual table. He looked different now, his jacket was thrown over the back of his chair, his dress shirt sleeves bunched up at the elbow. He held a hefty tome in one hand as he gracefully sipped an espresso, pinky out, of course.

I walked straight to the table and waited for him to look up. I cleared my throat, and he finally met my eyes. The resounding zing that went through my body troubled me. It was like touching a nine volt to your tongue. “What are you doing here?”

He waved at the table with his now empty demitasse, “lunch.”

“I come here for lunch.”

He didn’t seem fazed by my declaration. “It’s the best café in the area. I know, I tried them all. You don’t hold a monopoly on lunch locales.” He set down his glass and gave me one of those long slow challenging looks that made me wonder whether he was arguing with me or flirting with me. Either way, I didn’t like it.

I scowled at him. “Awfully suspicious though, you here eating lunch just when I come down for lunch.”

“It’s twelve o’clock, my dear. It’s the lunch hour. That’s not suspicious at all.”

His focus and his gaze strayed back to the book as he spoke, and he said “my dear” in a scolding tone which should have reminded me of my grandmother, but actually made me want to hear it again.

I huffed, not very gracefully, and went inside to get food. After I placed my order, I dug in my wallet for my debit card, only to find it missing. Recalling the morning’s coffee, I had dropped the card into my bag instead of putting it back, a habit I’d been trying to break for some time.

My stomach rumbled loudly, and I glanced out the window to the back of Gray’s head. How could the back of someone’s head be so perfect?

I pointed outside to where he sat as I tucked my wallet back into my pocket. “Actually, I’m joining that man out there. Put it on his tab.”

A little cheeky, but if he wanted a date, he’d get a date. I walked back out and took the empty chair next to him.

He glanced up from the pages again, and his perfect eyebrows rose in question. “Why, Miss Vale, are you following me?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, actually, I’m joining you for lunch.”

His eyes widened, and he snapped the book in his hand shut. War and Peace. Of course.

“I was under the impression you weren’t interested in me.”

I gave him a sickly sweet smile. “Oh, I’m not, I just forgot my debit card and decided you could buy my lunch since you want a date so badly. The least I can do is sit with you after you do.”

He chuckled softly. “Touché. I reserve the right to kiss you then when we are finished.”

I leaned back and crossed my arms, trying to put as much distance as possible between us. “You reserve no such thing.”

I wouldn’t admit it to him, but he intrigued me. What would a millionaire playing theater director want with me? Relationships like that never worked out, and the less wealthy partner of such a pairing usually regretted the entire affair. Maybe he had a wife in England and a title he was running away from. I let out a long-suffering sigh and glanced out at the square. Watching tourists was one of my favorite things to do in the city.

His voice dragged me away from the calm I was just starting to grasp. “What if I told you that by the end of this date, you’ll ask me to kiss you?”

I focused back on him and his Michelangelo face, trying to replay what he was saying. When I caught up I scowled. “I’d say you need to adjust your medication.”

Another of his damn smiles. “Is it a wager then?”

If he wanted to play games, I could play games with him. “What do I get if I win? Besides the pleasure of not kissing you? Which to be honest, doesn’t really seem like a prize.”

He smiled again. I was beginning to think he enjoyed rejection a little too much. “I promise I will stop following you around.”

Ah, sweet vindication. “I knew you were following me. Why?”

He shrugged. “Maybe if you win, I’ll tell you. Or should we save that for our next date?”

He had my attention now, and the cocky bastard knew it. “Not doing something you shouldn’t do anyway really isn’t a win-win for me. You suck at the rewards thing.”

His smile disappeared, thank God, and he leveled me with a serious look. Like we were about to negotiate a peace treaty between our warring countries. “What do you want then? And don’t be afraid of your imagination.”

I leaned in and narrowed my eyes. Mocking his business-like stare. “I want you to approve the theater upgrades so we can get our drop door.” I’d been wanting one installed because I was sure the next feature I took over would need it—at least if I had anything to say about it. But the underground parts of the theater were flooded and off limits. It would take some maneuvering with the government to get it all working. My manager, one of the guys in between my level and Gray’s, had basically told me to forget about it.

“And if I win?”

I leaned back now as our faces had somehow continued to inch closer and closer during the exchange. “You’ll already get a kiss. What more do you want?”

“If we are being fair here, my prize is considerably disproportionate to yours.”

I shrugged. “I guess that depends on how bad you want to kiss me. She says to her stalker.”

He chuckled and shifted in his chair to smooth out his perfectly tailored trousers. “How about if I win, we go on a real date? You let me do this correctly.”

The waitress chose the perfect moment to sit my sandwich on the table between us. He pointed to my innocent lunch. “Case in point.”

I glared, but scooted across the concrete to get closer to my food. “Were you a lawyer in another life?”

Something dark passed over his features like a cloud blocking out the sunlight. Gone as fast as it arrived.

“I’m just very adamant about getting what I want. Call it a character flaw. And a sandwich during daylight hours isn’t a proper date.”

I nibbled on the edge of the turkey poking out of the flakey crust as he watched me. With him here, I didn’t know if I could sit and eat. I wasn’t bad at putting food in my mouth, but there really wasn’t an elegant way to eat a sandwich the size of your face.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll read until you finish.” He picked up the book and slid his fingers into the gap made by his bookmark at the top. Bonus points for not bending the corners.

I quickly chewed and swallowed. “Wait. I do have a question for you.”

He froze and closed the book again. Instead of asking, he sat patiently waiting. I didn't know how to say what I needed to say without offending him. Not that it usually stopped me, but he was sort of paying me, and I needed my job to stay in Paris.

I took a deep breath and decided to just ask. “What do you want with me?”

I almost expected him to play the question off like a joke, or make up some excuse as to why he’d been following me. Part of me wanted him to do that, give me a normal rational explanation as to why he, of all people, would be interested in me.

Instead of making light of my question, he shuffled his book and my plate toward the middle of the table and grabbed the edge of my chair just outside my thighs. The pressure of his thumbs against my knees was intense, and it felt almost like he’d placed his entire hand on me. I swallowed against the sparks prickling up my skin from the contact. It was too familiar. His touch was too familiar. The look he was leveling me with was too familiar. And damn him to hell, I wanted more.

He slid the chair, loudly and obnoxiously, across the pitted ground toward him until my knees sat closed on the inside of his, spread wider. He was either about to give me the best kiss of my life or scold me, and I didn’t know which I wanted more.

“I’m only going to say this once.” His tone was hard edged like the rough concrete he’d just pulled me across. “I like you, Isobel. I want to be more than friends with you. I don’t care if I’m technically your boss and you’re technically my employee.”

Each word made those sparks move faster until my skin felt like it was vibrating under his scrutiny. I realized if I lightened the mood now, it would likely offend him.

“Mr. Gray,” I began.

He shook his head. “Dorian, please.”

I stopped and stared at him. “Your name is Dorian Gray? Why didn’t I notice that before?”

He met my eyes, and I realized I had done exactly what I’d just instructed myself not to—made light of the moment between us. Anger simmered in his eyes, and I pushed myself back on track. “We’ll ignore that for now, Dorian. What I want to know is why you’ve been following me. I’ve noticed for weeks. Not exactly a good way to win a date.”

His hands tightened on the edge of the chair, and it caused his thumbs to flick alongside my knee caps. I didn’t think he realized he was doing it, but the movement still ignited my skin there. Who knew knees could be so sensitive?

“I don’t want to worry you. But someone has been following you. Someone who isn’t me. I’ve been following you both to make sure you stay safe.”

Alarm wrenched through me. I knew that someone was following me, but I’d always assumed it was just him, I’d never considered it could be someone else. Then realization dawned. I was in a foreign country, away from anyone I knew back at home. There was only one person who would have the balls to put a guard on me.

I leaned back and held up a finger to stop anything else he was about to say. He sat back and froze. “What is it?”

“May I borrow your cell phone?”

He didn’t ask questions, something I liked in a man, and reached into the jacket hanging off his chair. He handed me his phone, open to the dial screen. I wondered what would be in his text messages.

I hit the number I had been forced to learn by heart and waited for it to ring. It took three rings for a click, and I spoke clearly into the line. “Juliet Alpha Kilo Echo.” Then I hung up.

Gray sat back in his chair now with his hands crossed over his flat belly. “Dare I ask?”

Exactly ten seconds passed, and the phone rang in my hand. I answered with: “Jake, I’m going to kill you.”

“Now, is that anyway to greet your brother?”

“My brother who is about to be ball-less. Call off your guard, or I’ll come up with some scheme like I did in Budapest, and then you’ll have to explain it to your superiors.”

His warm familiar laugh came down the line, and even though I was pissed at him, I reveled in that sound. His being a Navy SEAL meant I never got to see him. I missed him, even when I wanted to throw something at his head.

“I only did it for your protection.”

“I can protect myself. Call him off, or you will regret it.”

Some shuffling came through the line. “I love you, Sis. Gotta go.”

I handed the phone back to Gray. “It won’t be a problem anymore.”

I watched as a nondescript man stood up from one of the far tables and headed in the opposite direction. “Thank you for playing. Better luck next time,” I called out.

I let out a long sigh and sat back to focus on my date once again. “Now that you have no excuse to follow me anymore, what are you going to do now?”