Page 14 of My French Love Affair

As soon as I reach the car, I pull open the back door and shove my suitcase onto the seat, ignoring the fact that the driver hasn’t even stepped out or so much as offered to help.

Rude, but whatever. I’ve secured my golden ticket out of this nightmare.

Or so I think.

Because just as I’m about to climb in, a low, amused cough sounds behind me.

I turn, and -

Oh.

There’s a man standing there.

A very,veryhandsome man.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered and unfairly good-looking in a way that should be illegal this early in the day.

Messy dark brown hair. Sun-kissed skin. A sharp jawline that could probably be classified as a weapon.

Andeyes.

Bright blue, watching me with far too much amusement.

I blink. He smirks.

“I believe,” he says in perfect English, laced with an unmistakably French accent, “you are hijacking my ride.”

I pause, my brows furrowing.

I glance at the car - at the unoccupied seats, the lack of his name scrawled across the side, and the entire absence of any indication that there’s some sort of formal reservation system before looking back at him.

"Yourride?" I echo, skeptical.

“Well, itwasmine. But who am I to disrupt the travel plans of a beautiful English girl?”

I narrow my eyes.

Oh, I knowexactlyhow this goes.

This is the exact setup of every horror film involving a young, naive tourist who gets lured in by an obscenely handsome local before mysteriously disappearing forever.

Next thing you know, they find my passport floating in the Mediterranean and my friends are forced to go on some dramatic, emotionally devastating rescue mission.

Not today,Satan.

He tilts his head, studying me and my lack of response.

“English,non?” he asks. “American? Australian?”

“None-of-your-business-ian,” I say flatly.

He laughs, apparently entertained by my refusal to engage.

I cross my arms, standing my ground. Gorgeous or not, I am not about to fall victim to my own stupidity.

"Listen," I say, tone firm. "I don’t know you. And I don’t owe you anything. Go fight the masses and find your own car.”

For a split second, he looks genuinely taken aback - like people don’t usually tell him no. And then, that ridiculous smirk comes back stronger than ever.

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