Page 178 of My French Love Affair

“You approve?” he asks, watching me far too closely.

I hum in response, setting the cup down on the tray as I survey the spread once more.

“Clearly, you were very concerned about my wellbeing.”

He leans back against the pillows, grinning lazily. “Couldn’thave you starving, could I?”

“Yes, because I wasobviouslyat risk of malnutrition.”

His chuckle is warm, easy. “You never know.”

I pick up a pain au chocolat, eyeing him suspiciously as I take a bite.

His eyes darken immediately, and I freeze.

It’s then that I realise: Imoaned.

Just slightly. Just barely.

But by the look on his face, hedefinitelyheard it.

Frederic exhales slowly, his jaw tightening, his gaze flicking from my lips to my throat and back up again.

I swallow quickly, fighting the flush creeping up my neck.

“Anyway,” I clear my throat, desperate to change the subject, “you’ve got a busy day today, right?”

He takes a sip of his own coffee, nodding. “Meetings, interviews, press, team debriefs, track walks, simulator sessions…”

I blink, taken aback. “That’s… a lot.”

“Comes with the job,” he shrugs, appearing completely unbothered.

“Well, I won’t keep you then,” I say, starting to push the sheets back. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

His dark brow lifts slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that.

“No rush,” he says, reaching out casually to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing my jaw as he does.

Despite myself, my breath catches at the touch.

The quiet intimacy of it is startling.

“Eat,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing lightly over my cheek before he pulls away. “The world can wait a little longer.”

And just like that, I realise that I am so,sogone for this man.

* * *

The drive back to my hotel is quiet, but my mind is anything but.

I shift in the backseat, my thighs still aching, my body still buzzing from the morning’s events.

Frederic had not let me leave without another round - this time, though, it had been in the shower.

The moment I stepped inside, the hot water cascading over my skin, he’d followed. I barely had time to react before his hands were on me - gripping my hips, pressing me against the cool glass.

"Going somewhere?" he had murmured, his voice deep and teasing as his lips brushed against my damp shoulder.

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