Page 27 of My French Love Affair

“You’re restless.”

I exhale sharply, fingers drumming against the table.

“I have a race in ten days,” I remind him. “A big one.”

“As if you’d ever let yourself lose.”

I don’t. Iwon’t.

Jacques knows that better than anyone.

I don’t have the luxury of indulgence, of fucking around with no consequences. I win, or I become irrelevant - simple as that.

I glance around the beach club, taking in the crowd. It’s a mix of Monaco’s elite, familiar faces from the paddock, and the occasional group of tourists who probably had to sell their souls to afford a table here.

My gaze sweeps past the open terrace-

And something catches my eye.

A flash of blonde.

A pink two-piece.

And those fucking sharp, amused eyes.

I freeze.

It’sher. The English girl from the airport.

The one who stole my car and disappeared into thestreets like she owned the place.

I watch as she stands out on the terrace, laughing at something one of her friends says.

She looks different now. More relaxed, more at home under the Mediterranean sun. Her hair is loose, catching in the breeze, and when she throws her head back to laugh again, something twists low in my stomach.

Jacques follows my gaze, tipping his sunglasses down his nose slightly as he scans the terrace.

“What are we looking at?”

“Nothing,” I say, too fast.

He smirks.

“Nothing, huh?”

I tear my eyes away, reaching for my drink again.

Fuckinghell.

I don’t have time for this. I have a race to win.

And I sure as hell don’t have time to get distracted by a girl who’s already proven to be trouble.

Chapter Nine

Poppy

The sun is setting, casting everything in an impossibly golden-pink light that makes Monaco look like an actual movie set.

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