Page 61 of How to Resist Prince Charming

Lenna kept glancing at Braxton, but he avidly watched the waiter as if hanging off each syllable the man pronounced. She wanted to shake her head in amusement. Braxton looked, for all the world, like he understood every word the waiter spoke.

Finally, the waiter asked if they wanted to order their drinks. He turned immediately to Braxton with an expectant look. Braxton’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. Lenna could actually see his Adam’s apple slide up and then bob nervously back down his throat as he swallowed.

Having mercy on him, she leaned close and whispered. “He wants to know what you’d like to drink.”

Braxton lifted his eyes to the waiter. “Oh,” he murmured. Then he turned to Lenna. “Uh...water?”

She grinned and then transferred her attention back to their waiting attendant. “Est-ce que nous pourrions avoir de l’eau?”

The waiter nodded and then turned to Richard. As Mr. Trousseau requested his drink of choice, Braxton murmured into Lenna’s ear. “God, you’re good at that.”

Beaming, she lifted her chin. “I am, aren’t I?”

With a low chuckle, Braxton set his hand high on her thigh and squeezed lightly.

Their next obstacle came when the waiter passed out the menus. Braxton took one look at the foreign words and quickly whispered, “Lenna! Help.”

Beyond pleased he needed her so much, Lenna glowed. She covered his hand supportively. “Don’t worry. Just tell me what you’re hungry for.”

“A hamburger,” he moaned, nearly whining.

Lenna tightened her fingers sympathetically. Yeah, he was definitely American.

She scanned the list. “They don’t have hamburgers. What about, uh...” She checked the menu again. “Steak?”

He closed his eyes and sighed in relief. “God, yes! A nice juicy medium rare steak sounds like heaven.” Then he leaned closer, “They have French fries, right? I mean, come on. This is France. They gotta have fries.”

Lenna pursed her lips to fight her amusement. “They don’t call them French fries here.”

“Oh,” he said. “Well, of course not. They’re probably just fries, right?”

Holding in a spurt of laughter, Lenna glanced away to keep the giggle in. God, he was cute when he was utterly clueless. “Actually, they’re called Pommes Frites.”

“Tell me, Miss Davenport,” Richard said, interrupting her and Braxton’s private exchange.

Lenna lifted her face, a little embarrassed that she’d actually forgotten he was present.

“What kind of work do you do in America?”

CHAPTER 15

Braxton was able to slip in a little business conversation with his client over dinner, but most of the night was spent listening to Richard and Lenna chat in French. To his ears, she sounded like a native. The language spilled from her lips as if she spoke it daily.

Richard repeatedly complimented her flawless delivery, and she continued to blush. It didn’t take long for Braxton to grow jealous because his client was a little too delighted by her, but mostly he remained satisfied with how well she’d enchanted the other man. Smug relief filled him when it was his arm she clung to as they left.

“Au revoir,” she called to Richard, waving and beaming as Braxton ushered her away.

God, he loved being with her. She thrilled him, and challenged him, and touched something inside that gave him a sense of power and elation.

As they sat huddled close together in the back seat of the cab on the return ride to their hotel, she rested her head on his shoulder.

He tightened his arm around her waist and lifted his hand to stroke her hair. “Tired?”

“No, not really,” she answered, even as she snuggled closer. “I’m overwhelmed. This is all just so exciting and exotic. I feel like a princess.”

Braxton grinned. “Like Cinderella again?”

“No, this is different. I must be Sleeping Beauty this time around because today has to be a dream.” She sighed and relaxed against him. “The most amazing dream ever.”

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