of thoughtless men that steeled her spine and made her demand better for herself whenever she had offers back home.
Pivoting to go back inside the hotel, she entered the rotating doors as Demitri entered them from the inside. She ignored him as she passed him and kept walking into the lobby.
“Hey!” he circled back to call after her. “Natalie. Wait.”
“I was stood up,” she said over her shoulder, then paused to swing around and level a glare at him. “Lesson learned. If that was your intention. Good night.” She swung back toward the elevators.
“I stood at your door thinking the same thing.”
She checked her step. Turned to search his expression. He looked annoyed, not smug or smarmy. She didn’t want to believe him, too aware that giving men the benefit of the doubt was an invitation to be walked over.
“You said to meet you at the curb,” she reminded him coolly. Her entire body prickled with awareness that the front desk and bell staff could see them, if not hear them.
“No, I said the car would be there.” He came even with her and scowled. “What kind of men have you dated that they pick you up on the sidewalk?”
That gave her pause. For all her ideals, she still expected the very worst from men. Maybe she ought to give Demitri more credit.
He offered his arm, gaze still vaguely hostile.
After a brief hesitation, she transferred her pocketbook to her other hand and tucked her fingers into the crook of his elbow, nervous now because she wasn’t sure how to take him. Was he one of the few good ones after all?
With his reputation?
He skimmed a glance down her front to where her dress was revealed by her open raincoat. “I’ll forgive you for underestimating me since you look so lovely,” he commented.
It wasn’t the most extravagant compliment, kind of backhanded in the way he suggested she was seeking his forgiveness, but she warmed under his words. And couldn’t help taking a visual snapshot of him in his black pants and black buttoned shirt under a smoky gray suede jacket that was so buttery soft it made her want to caress his arm. He smelled fantastic, too, all spicy and masculine, jaw shiny where he’d freshly shaved.
They turned more than a few heads walking out to the car, but she doubted it was because they made such a striking couple. She’d have to make a point of mentioning how innocuous this evening had been when training her coworkers over the next few days. He’d been just being nice, she’d stress. Even though she doubted a man like Demitri went out of his way to be nice. She suspected he was ruled by self-interest, and most of his interest was banked below his belt.
For the moment, however, she set all that aside and concentrated on not smiling like an idiot because she was on a date. With a handsome man. This was exactly what she’d hoped for from this off-site assignment, and it astonished her that it was happening. Her neglected femininity had been desperate for male attention and glowed with pleasure at getting some.
They didn’t talk much in the limo. Her fault as she took in the color and lights of Paris. The restaurant was only a short drive anyway, a distance she would have walked in Montreal, even in this blustery fall weather and wearing these neck-breaking shoes. They were shown to a table with a stunning view of Notre Dame and the Seine. She tried not to gawk as they moved through the dining room, but along with gorgeous detailing that spoke of France’s rich history, the place was loaded with movie stars. There were probably athletes and politicians, too, not that she would recognize them. Demitri seemed to have a nodding acquaintance with almost everyone in the room, but didn’t stop to speak to anyone.
“Shall I order for you?” he asked as the maître d’ left them.
“What kind of men have I dated that dared to let me read the menu myself? As if a woman could,” she scoffed lightly.
“This is why I asked. Some of you feminists find it condescending.”
“And you see it as chivalry?”
“I had an old-world upbringing,” he stated with a ring of pride in his tone. “But I also like to know my date is ordering something I’d like to eat, since she won’t finish it,” he added with a supercilious lift at the corner of his mouth.
“Ha! You don’t know me very well, do you?”
“I’m working on it,” he assured her with a look that reached across and held.
“You read my personnel file?” she challenged, heart skipping. He knew about Zoey? Her breath stopped.
“Too easy,” he dismissed, leaning forward in a way that seemed to catch her in a magnetic field that pulled her into him. “I like a more personal approach.”
So he didn’t know she had a daughter. Natalie toyed with the idea of blurting it out, but didn’t want to cool the sizzle between them. It was too exciting, playing with this particular fire.
“I’ll bet you do.” Her voice came out papery and soft. He probably knocked women over with gently blown kisses. Her pulse was racing and her skin glowing hot from the inside. The way the banter lobbed back and forth between them entranced her, but he was an expert, she reminded herself. This wasn’t anything so grand as chemistry.
“If you think I’m such a womanizer, why are you here?” he asked, eyes narrowed to hide what he was thinking.
“Honestly?” She schooled herself not to look or sound desperate, even though she was bordering on despair where men and relationships were concerned. “I live like a shut-in, working from home a lot of the time. I’ll never get another chance to dine like the one percent and, quite frankly, you hit the nail on the head about the men I date. I thought I’d see what it’s like to be the girl for a change.”
He raised his brows.
“Let you hold the door for me,” she explained. “Pay. Even though I know it’ll really be the company paying. But you do know this is only dinner, right? I work for you.”
“You work for my brother,” he stated firmly, not thrown off his stride at all by her bluntness. “IT falls under finance. I head up marketing.” Despite his affable tone his gaze was dead level as he added, “My threats earlier were empty. I have no authority to fire you. By the same token, I have no way of helping you advance. If this turns into more than dinner, there’s no professional advantage for you.”
The warning pushed her back into her seat, putting her in her place. Yet she was strangely relieved. Embarrassed, yet amused.
“Look at all we’ve got on the table and we haven’t even ordered,” she said with a pert lift of her brows.
* * *
Demitri released a “Ha,” and looked away, astounded by how thoroughly this woman was keeping him on his toes. Fortunately the waiter arrived to advise them of the evening’s specials.
“Please,” Natalie said when Demitri glanced at her. “Order for me. I’m curious.”
He nodded in satisfaction even though his brain was barely able to pull it together to order at all, only managing to choose the starters with a suitable wine before he turned back to her,
