French Fling To Forever. Karin Baine

when she’d walked in earlier—the speed bump abs and the trail of dark hair dipping from his navel into the waistband of his trousers, reminding her that he had the body to match the hint of sexy in his eyes.

      It was enough to give her the vapours, trying to match the creases in his shirt with the defined muscles she’d only caught a glimpse of.

      An awkward silence ticked between them as Lola played a game of hide and seek with his abs. At some point she was either going to have to make conversation or ask him for a quick flash to get reacquainted with his six-pack. She chose the option less likely to start a cat fight with his significant other.

      ‘If you have a pen and paper to hand, I’ll write my address down for you.’

      ‘Of course.’ Henri, too, snapped back to life and scrabbled on his desk for the requested stationery. ‘I’m sorry if you’ve been inconvenienced. Angelique takes no prisoners, I’m afraid.’

      ‘It’s all right. What kind of person would I be to leave the birthday boy without a dinosaur cake? Anyway, I should think this makes us even now. I hit your car—I bake you a cake. Debt repaid.’

      After this there was no reason for either of them to venture into each other’s social territory, or for her to ogle her registrar again. The image of him stripped to the waist was imprinted on her brain for ever anyway.

      She handed him the piece of paper with her hastily scribbled address. ‘I’ll need a couple of hours after work to get it done. Shall we say eight o’clock?’

      Her steady voice belied her insides as they danced a jig at the thought of him waiting on her doorstep. She wasn’t particularly relishing explaining it all to Jules, either.