Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“Okay, I won’t, but…why are you avoiding him?”
“Because if Gerard knows I’m here, he’ll want to see me, and I’m not prepared to prematurely divulge any details regarding my research. We agreed to meet at the end of the month prior to the conference, and we shall. But not a moment sooner.”
I nodded as if that made complete sense. It didn’t explain his sudden agitation or…his pink-tinged cheeks. Wild speculation here, but I got the impression there was something personal between the silver fox and the professor. And for reasons I couldn’t begin to dissect, I felt a twinge of something that felt vaguely like…jealousy.
Ew.
“I’m too curious and gauche to bite my tongue like a good assistant. I gotta ask…is Gerard your ex?”
“My—what? N-no,” he sputtered. “Absolutely not!”
I held my hands up in surrender. “Sorry. It’s just that you seem as upset as I was the time my summer fling showed up at my salon to pick up his new boy toy, who spilled the beans about his amazing sexy older man while I’d shampooed his hair and prepared his platinum color treatment. Imagine my shock when the cheap-ass scrub I’d kicked to the curb waltzed in the door like a damn white knight. I’d never told him where I worked ’cause that relationship wasn’t going anywhere good, but I could have done without the confrontation and the yucky feeling that someone else inspired the kind of gallantry I’d wanted. Why was he a better man for the faux-blond twink than he ever tried to be for me?”
Alistair opened and closed his mouth. “Uh…I don’t know, Winnie.”
I snorted. “That was a hypochondriac question. No answer required.”
“You mean hypothetical…or more accurately, rhetorical.”
“Yes! That’s the one.” I sipped my now-cold tea, wrinkling my nose as I pushed the cup to the middle of the table. “I didn’t mean to veer so far off topic. No one needs to hear another version of the ‘always a bridesmaid’ blues. So boring. I don’t need a man to complete me, and neither do you. Or…a woman. I shouldn’t assume you’re gay or straight or—”
“I’m gay,” he intercepted.
And now we were cooking with fire. I felt oddly proud of myself for sussing out information Raine hadn’t been able to after years of working for the professor.
“Me too.” I beamed. “Surprise!”
Alistair’s lips twisted in reluctant humor. “Thank you for sharing, but it’s neither here nor there. I need access to my room without running into Gerard Poitier. There must be an alternate entrance to the hotel or—”
“There’s not, but that shouldn’t matter. What are the chances of bumping into him again?”
“Famous last words. I’m not risking it. Not now, anyhow. I need to plan a speech in the event of an accidental encounter, but I’m certainly not ready now.” He furrowed his brow and stared at something over my shoulder. “I can discuss the amulets with him. Those are of interest, and I can—”
“Whoa. You’re all up in your head, Professor. Leave the speech planning for later. If you must stay away from the hotel, do something fun like…see Paris.”
“I’ve seen Paris.”
“Not with me, you haven’t.” I squeezed his hand and stood. “Come on, we’ll take a walk. It’ll be great!”
Alistair didn’t respond. His glassy-eyed gaze indicated that he was deep in thought, so I honestly wasn’t sure he’d heard me at all. Or maybe he was trying to think of a nice way to get rid of me. I hoped not. I was conversation starved and desperate for company other than my own. We didn’t have to do much. A stroll along the Seine, maybe pop into the shops on the Avenue Montaigne, or—
“Have you been to the Louvre?”
“I tried, but the line was insane. Too bad, ’cause I’d love to meet Mona Lisa in person. She’ll have to wait. Shuffling along like cattle to look at art is not my idea of a good time.”
He stood abruptly. “We’ll go now.”
“Trust me on this one. It’s too—Professor, where are you going? Professor?”
He strode away, hands in his pockets, head held high…a man on a mission.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I grumbled, waving over the waiter so I could pay for our meal.
I caught up to Alistair at the crosswalk and tugged on his sleeve. He flashed a smile my way and absently tucked my hand in the crook of his elbow, as if walking arm in arm was something we did. I hated to admit it, but I liked that a little too much.
We arrived at the twin grand glass pyramids of the Louvre and as I’d warned, it was a sea of humanity. People taking photos, children hopping off pedestals, and the general hullabaloo associated with lines that snaked on and on.
I had my “I told you so” locked and loaded, but Alistair continued past the pyramids to an archway and pushed a series of buttons on a pad affixed to the stone wall. The door clicked and was opened by a fierce-looking bald man in a suit I assumed was a museum guard.