How to Resist Prince Charming(46)

For dinner, Lenna wore the one fancy dress she’d packed. She started to worry it was too plain when she slipped it on. But as soon as she stepped from the bathroom, she realized it was perfect, mostly because of Braxton’s reaction to her when he saw her in it. He lifted his face and froze.

“You look...” He shook his head as if to clear the dirty thoughts from his brain. Then his eyes lifted to hers. “I’m going to have to kick a lot of French ass tonight to keep you at my side.”

She laughed and thanked him.

And she kept thanking him.

Whenever he opened a door for her or whenever he stepped aside to let her go first, she murmured her oh-so appreciative thanks. As soon as they entered the restaurant where they would be eating, she paused and glanced around the waiting area.

“Oh, Braxton,” she murmured, intimidated. “This place is spectacular.” She turned to him. “Thank you so much for—”

He cut her off by placing a finger over her lips. “You’re wearing me out, woman.”

Lenna frowned. “Huh?”

Laughing at her bewilderment, he added, “If I have to say ‘you’re welcome’ to one more of your ‘thank-yous’ tonight, my tongue is just going to plum fall off.”

Lenna winced. “Have I been overly grateful?”

He nodded. “Just a tad.” But then touched her cheek and grinned. “And I’m the one whose thankful and honored that you agreed to come here with me.”

The maitre d’ appeared before she could respond. He led them to their table, where Braxton’s client already waited.

“Farris,” the man greeted, getting to his feet as Braxton and Lenna approached. He spoke English with a thick accent.

“Mr. Trousseau,” Braxton said, stretching out his hand. The men shook, and Braxton turned toward Lenna. “Lenna, this is Richard Trousseau of the Renault Automobile Company. He’s just signed on with Farris Industries to purchase our mufflers for their luxury vehicles.”

Lenna’s dimple appeared as the man turned toward her. “Enchanté,” she answered meekly when he took her hand and kissed the back of her fingers.

“And this is Lenna Davenport,” Braxton told Richard. “She came with me to tour Paris tomorrow.”

“Excellent,” Richard answered, continuing to hold Lenna’s fingers as he glanced at Braxton. “You said you would be bringing a dinner companion, Farris, but you forgot to mention she was so beautiful.”

“Vous êtes très gentil,” Lenna murmured, telling him he was very kind.

Richard turned to her in delighted surprise. “And you speak French,” he exclaimed.

“Lenna minored in it while she was in college,” Braxton announced, looking like a proud father.

Hearing that, Richard started off in a barrage of French. Lenna smiled and answered him in kind.

When he heard her reply, Richard threw back his head and laughed heartily.

“This flower you’ve brought me is a delight,” he informed Braxton happily and motioned toward their seats. “Now let us sit before they kick us out for loitering.”

Braxton pulled out a chair for Lenna. She started to thank him but caught herself and paused to guiltily meet his gaze. She could tell he knew exactly what she’d just about said. His eyes glittered with mirth, and his lips tightened with the effort to repress a gloating smirk.

“Merci,” she told him instead, refusing to be rude and not thank him in some fashion.

He chuckled as he took his own chair. The waiter, who’d been waiting for them to be seated, stepped forward and proceeded to rattle off the house wine of the day.

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?”