Page 165 of My French Love Affair

ToLeah.

He’s been passing off Frederic’s wealth as his own, acting like he had the kind of status to host parties in Monaco, when in reality, he was just another guest.

I want to scream. I want to text Leah immediately and demand she get the hell away from him.

But I can’t, because Frederic is sitting right beside me, his sharp blue eyes flickering over my face, studying me carefully.Assessing. Reading me like I’m a puzzle he’s on the verge of solving.

And I can’t afford to give anything away.

Not when Jacques has been parading around like Monaco’s very own Gatsby, feeding Leah half-truths and outright lies. Not when Frederic and Jacques are clearly friends - or at the very least, connected enough that Jacques felt confident to weave him into his illusion.

I don’t know how deep this goes. I don’t know how much Frederic actually knows, or if he even cares.

But what Idoknow?

I don’t want to get myself tangled up in something much, much bigger than me - especially not right now, when I’m sitting in a car with a man who just sent me four bouquets of roses and a Cartier bracelet.

So, for now, I just exhale slowly, forcing a casual, amusedexpression, pretending like this is nothing more than an entertaining revelation rather than a bombshell that’s just shaken my entire view of Jacques to its core.

Later. I’ll deal with whatever the hell this means later.

“Well, that’s… quite the plot twist,” I say. “I wouldn’t have been accusing you of stalking me if I knew that we were inyourplaces. Although I suppose it makes sense, now. Why you were always there.”

He shrugs, amused, still watching me with that infuriatingly smug expression. I fold my arms, trying to look unimpressed.

“You could’ve told me earlier, you know.”

“And miss the look on your face just now?” He grins. “Not a chance.”

I huff, turning away from him, staring out of the window.

This man issoinfuriating.

And yet…

The warmth of his hand suddenly pressing against my thigh has my breath catching in my throat.

Oh.

His touch is casual, lazy, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His thumb idly strokes my skin, back and forth, soft and slow, and I feel like I’m thrumming with electricity all over again.

I swallow hard, refusing to look at him.

Because if I do - if I let myself get caught up in those blue eyes, in the heat of his knowing gaze - I’ll be in real trouble.

Instead, I keep my gaze on the window, forcing my breathing to stay steady, while his fingers continue their slow,torturous movements against my skin.

Well, one thing is for certain - this night just got a whole lot more interesting.

Chapter Forty-Five

Poppy

It goes without saying that Frederic’s hotel is stunning.

He had already mentioned that his entire team was staying here for the week, but somehow, I hadn’t quite pictured this level of luxury.

He leads me from the car to the entrance effortlessly, his fingers intertwined with mine as though this is the most natural thing in the world.

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