Page 59 of My French Love Affair

I snap my wandering gaze away from Frederic so fast I might actually pull a neck muscle.

Jas and Emma practically howl with laughter all over again.

Frustrated, I grab my wine and down the rest of it in one gulp.

Apparently, this is the only way I’m getting through the rest of the evening.

Chapter Eighteen

Poppy

The music shifts, pulsing through the warm Monaco air.

It’s the kind of beat that makes even the most reluctant partygoer want to move.

I’m not one of those people. But Emma?

Emma is practically radiating energy, her eyes alight with pure mischief as she grabs both Jas and I by the wrists and drags us toward the dance floor.

“Nope! No arguments!” she declares, already weaving through the crowd. “We are dancing, we are having fun, and we arenotspending this entire night sitting like sad, unloved mistresses on a terrace.”

“Wow. That’s oddly specific of you, Em,” Jas comments dryly.

"Move!" Emma orders, nudging us forwards. "And if we just so happen to find handsome dance partners along the way, well, that's just Monaco’s way of rewarding us for existing."

Jas and I exchange another look, but we let her pull us towards the centre of the floor, where the air is thick with champagne, laughter, and the scent of expensive cologne.

Leah is already here, wrapped up in Jacques’ arms, looking like she’s starring in her own limited series about a woman who scams rich men for sport.

I can’t help but smile at the sight of her. She looks as beautiful as ever, and beyond that,happy.

Emma barely lasts five minutes dancing with us before she’s swooped back into the maddening height difference that is her Swiss lawyer-come-model, Finn. He twirls her effortlessly, leaving Jas and me swaying together, doing our best tolooklike we’re having fun even though neither of us is particularlyfeelingit.

"This isn't so bad," Jas admits, tapping her fingers against my arm in rhythm. "I mean, I could definitely think of worse things to be than your temporary dance partner."

"Yeah," I agree. "You could be -"

Before I can finish that sentence, someone else finds her first.

A tall, broad-shouldered man - objectively handsome, all tanned skin and perfect teeth - sidles up beside Jas with an easy grin. His body language is confident, but not in an overbearing way.

Just enough to sayI know I look good, and I know you know it too.

"You look like you could use a proper dance partner," he says smoothly, his French accent just thick enough to be charming.

Jas glances at me, lips twitching, before turning back to him.

"Oh? And you think you fit the bill?"

His grin widens. "I can prove it."

And then, just like that, he sweeps her away - twirling her soeffortlessly that she actually giggles.

I smile to myself.Good for her.

"You're impossible, you know that?" Emma appears again, momentarily free from Finn, giving me a pointed look.

I arch a brow. "What now?"

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