Page 54 of My French Love Affair

“Thisis what we deserve,” she says as she bites into it. “A little glamour. A little luxury.”

“A little free food?” I smirk.

Jas points at me. “Girl - you justgetit.”

After a little while, Emma reappears, slipping into the seat next to me with her cheeks thoroughly flushed from dancing. She reaches for a glass of wine from a passing waiter, sighing dramatically as she settles in.

“Okay,” she says, lifting her glass. “That man?Phenomenal.”

“I take it Mr. Switzerland met expectations?” Jas grins.

“Metthem? Oh, honey - heexceededthem,” Emma confirms. “I think I have to move to Geneva now. It’s the only logical conclusion.”

I open my mouth to answer, but that’s when it happens.

I seehim.

Again.

And just like that, any possibility of relaxation vanishes.

Of course, he’s out here; standing across the garden and looking perfectly at ease.

He’s not alone. He’s gathered with a small group of people, all well-dressed and varying in age, but all with the same unmistakable air of wealth and importance even from this distance.

He’s chatting animatedly with one of them - a man who looks to be at least in his late thirties, who nods along enthusiastically to whatever he’s saying.

He’s the picture of effortless charm, and for a brief moment, I think he doesn’t notice me.

But then his gaze shifts.

It’s weird. It’s almost like hefeelsme watching. Like he knew I would find him again eventually.

Like he was waiting for it.

His blue eyes lock onto mine, and before I can even react, his lips curl into a slow, knowing smile.

Not a smirk, this time. No, it’s something smaller. More self-satisfied.

Like he’s in on a joke I haven’t quite figured out yet.

It makes my skin prickle with irritation.

He seems to notice me glaring, and his smile only deepens. I have to wonder whether heactuallyrealises quite how much I hate him.

“Poppy?” Jas frowns. “Who are you…”

Before I can even think about covering my very obvious staring, Emma lets out a dramatic, breathy gasp.

“Oh my god.”

She grabs my arm with a grip that should not be that strong for someone who’s been sipping cocktails all evening.

“Poppy, who are you looking at?”

Jas’ eyes snap to where I’m staring.

“Who is it?”

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