I sat down and propped my chin on my hand. “So I have to ask you. How many times have you thought about sex today?”
“Over a million. Easy.” He didn’t even blink.
I burst out laughing. “Well, I’m glad it’s not only me.” Lowering my voice to a hush, I said, “I was beginning to think I was some kind of perv for thinking about o**l s*x in Victor Hugo’s apartment.”
He leaned across the table. “Don’t worry. That’s positively tame compared to the things I thought about.”
My stomach jumped. “Like what?”
“Not telling. I’ll just have to surprise you. Or scare you, one of the two.” He brought his lips to mine for a warm, melty kiss that turned my insides to liquid.
“Do both. I might like being a little frightened.”
He put his mouth to my ear. “You have no idea what you’re saying to me. I’m so hard right now.”
“Want me to come sit on your lap?”
He groaned and sat back. “Don’t tease me. I can’t handle it.”
Actually I probably would have gone around the table to sit on his lap, but our wine arrived and after the waiter poured us each a glass, Lucas lifted his up.
“What are we toasting?” I lifted mine as well.
“Oral sex and Victor Hugo?”
I cocked my head. “Doesn’t seem quite right.”
“Hmm. Couch sex and Edith Piaf?”
I cocked it the other way. “Closer.”
“How about…unexpected sex that turns out to be better than you imagined it even though you imagined it all day long, including when you were at a cemetery and in a church?”
I nodded and pointed a finger at him. “Bingo.” We clinked glasses and drank to that.
#
While we were in the café, it sprinkled a little, but by the time we finished our wine, the drizzle had stopped and the sun was starting to filter through the clouds. Lucas said the stores he wanted to take me to were close by, so we headed in their direction.
The day had warmed up—or maybe it was the conversation and the wine—but I felt a little hot, so I slipped the loose white button-down I had on off my shoulders and tied it around my waist. I’d layered it over a pretty, feminine lace-trimmed camisole, which I wore without a bra. If my ni**les poked through today, I wouldn’t care if Lucas noticed. In fact, I wanted him to.
“So what are you looking for?” he asked as we walked. “Clothing? Books? Jewelry? I’ll assume no furniture.”
“Well, I do have to find a new place to live when I get home. Maybe I can furnish it with antiques from Paris.” I grinned at him. “How much could shipping be?”
“I’m guessing a lot.” He was quiet a minute. “Did you live with him already?”
I was surprised he asked, since he’d said he didn’t want to hear any more about Tucker. “Yes.”
Lucas shoved his hands in his pockets. “Where will you go?”
“I haven’t really thought about it yet. And you know what?” I tugged a hand from his pocket and held on to it. “I don’t even want to. See?” Galloping a little, I shook his arm. “You’re a good influence on me—I’m only thinking about right here, right now, and not even worrying about anything else. Because right now I’m totally happy.”
He smiled at me and squeezed my hand. “Good.”
We spent the next couple hours wandering in and out of the shops in the Village Saint-Paul. I bought a pair of vintage earrings in an art deco style for Coco and picked out a beautiful blue cashmere scarf for Erin. While I was debating whether or not to purchase the scarf in a different color for my mother, Lucas tapped my shoulder.
“Hey, I’m just going to run across the street, OK? There’s a store I want to look in.”
I set the scarf down. “I can come with you.”
“No, you’re not allowed to come with me.” He took me by the shoulders and turned me back toward the table of scarves. “I’ll meet you outside in ten minutes.”
“Okayyyyyy.” I glanced over my shoulder but he was already out the door. What the hell? Was he buying me something? Too curious to resist, I went to the front window of the store I was in and looked across the street, half expecting to see a sex toy shop.
It was a bookstore.
Get your mind out of le gutter, Mia.
Giving in to guilt, I bought the two scarves, folded them up in my bag, and went out to meet Lucas on the sidewalk. The afternoon was still overcast, but even the soft gray light seemed pretty, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool breeze on my face and arms.
In a moment I heard Lucas’s voice. “I got you something.”
I opened my eyes to see him standing there with a plain brown paper package. “You did? Why?”
He shrugged. “I’d been thinking about it since yesterday. Open it.”
Half of me wanted to berate him for buying me a gift and the other half was too excited to keep my hands from tearing open the bag. Inside was a paperback book with a medieval painting of a man and woman on the cover. I read the title and gasped.
“The Love Letters of Abelard and Heloise!” I clasped it over my heart, which had skipped several beats. “I don’t believe it!”
“Do you like it?” His expression was endearingly hopeful.
“Are you kidding? I love it! Oh my God, Lucas!” I threw my arms around him, and the force nearly knocked him backward. He laughed as he steadied us both, his hands on my hips.