by Avery Scott
Abby initially twisted her pale locks up into an elegant knot before changing her mind and opting to leave them long and flowing. She brushed her hair until it shined and decided to keep her makeup simple: neutral eyeshadow with cat-eye liner and a red lipstick that matched the crimson cocktail dress she had been dying to put on since it first arrived. She completed the look with towering metallic sandals and then checked herself out in the mirror again. It sounded silly since she was an identical twin, but she thought that she had never looked more like Gabrielle before in her life.
It was after nine o’clock. Abby registered the fact that she was late with a guilty flush and hoped that she was worth the wait. She spritzed perfume on her wrists and hair, took a deep breath and headed down to the lobby, not sure of what the night was going to hold but ready for an adventure.
The elevator doors slid open, and Abby caught her breath. Hudson was waiting in the lobby. His back was turned away and so she had a moment to admire his striking figure. She didn’t know where he had changed his clothes, but he was clad in a simple black tuxedo that was tailored so perfectly it seemed like an extension of his skin. It emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and his narrow hips. The bright white of his shirt popped against his golden tan, while his casually open collar and tousled hair kept the look from becoming stiff. She was still a few steps away when he swiveled to face her. His light eyes held a sexy brooding stare that made him look just a tad dangerous.
Abby parted her lips. Her mouth felt dry as she started to apologize for her tardiness, but the words died in her throat when she saw him do a double-take at her entrance. She obviously wasn’t the only one who saw something that she liked.
“Wow,” he said, simply staring for a moment. “You look incredible.”
“Thank you, but I’m sure that it’s just the clothes and makeup.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Hudson said, and Abby tingled all over when she realized that his eyes hadn’t left her face for even a second. “Come on, the car is waiting for us.”
The ride to the restaurant was so brief that they might as well have walked. They couldn’t have traveled further than a few blocks away when the limo rolled to a stop in front of another elegant hotel.
“One of my favorites,” Hudson murmured quietly as the doorman helped Abby onto the curb. “I usually stay here when I’m in Paris.”
“Why didn’t you stay here this time?”
“Uhm…because you booked the George V?”
Gabrielle booked the George V, Abby thought, but she didn’t voice the words aloud. Of course, it would never occur to her sister to ask if someone else had a preference about where to stay. Abby’s identical twin had obviously booked what she wanted- with Hudson’s credit card. It was no wonder there had been a mix up with the solo bed. Abby wouldn’t put it past the other woman to expect Hudson to decamp to a lesser room, leaving her with the penthouse to herself. Or maybe Gabrielle had other plans for the lone bedroom…Abby wasn’t prepared for the twinge of jealousy that thought inspired.
“I’m sorry,” Abby muttered uncomfortably. “Do you want to change where we’re staying?”
“Of course not, we’re already settled in. It’s just a place to sleep anyway. It seems like I’m going to spend most of my time here at the Paris office.”
They followed the maitre’d into an elegant dining room. Their table looked out onto a softly lit courtyard. Abby had barely settled into her seat before a glass of champagne appeared, along with a sommelier wearing a starched white shirt and formal tailcoat.
“What’s good?” Abby asked after the attendant left to collect the bottle of wine that Hudson ordered.
“Everything, I’m sure. It’s a Michelin starred restaurant.”
“I mean, what’s your favorite? You said that you stayed here before.”
“That was when we were boys.”
“We?”
Abby was intrigued and frightened by the sudden shift in Hudson’s expression. All the blood seemed to drain from his face.
“My family,” he muttered. “Mom and dad.”
“You said ‘when we were boys’” Abby pressed and then wished that she hadn’t. A look of almost physical pain flashed across Hudson’s features.
“Me and…and my brother.”
“You never mentioned that you have a brother.”
“I don’t.” Hudson lifted the champagne flute to his lips and drained it in a single swallow, settling the glass back down on the table with a force that clearly communicated that the topic was closed. “Tell me about your day.” It was an order, not a request.
“I…uhm…” Abby fumbled around for words. Sometimes talking to Hudson gave her whiplash and she was too distracted by the sudden shift in her companion’s mood to think of anything to say.
“Did you buy anything?”
“Only some chocolates and lunch. I walked down by the river…” Slowly Abby relaxed as she recounted her adventure. “Maybe you could come with me for a little while tomorrow?
The suggestion was met with an apologetic smile. “I’d like to, but dad is expecting me back in the office bright and early.”
“Your father is still in Paris?”
Hudson nodded. “He was only supposed to be here to sign the deal. Now that things have gone sideways, I can’t get him back to New York.”
“Oh, Hudson. I’m so sorry!”
“It’s not your fault.”
“But it is! I-!”
Hudson reached across the table and captured Abby’s fingers, cupping them under his own. His hands were warm and strong.
“It’s not. And I’ve been meaning to apologize to you for something. I’m sorry that I lost my temper the other day. That wasn’t fair to you. Our plans to dismantle Marché d’Été would have come out at some point anyway. Monsieur Fougere loves his business and he’s too shrewd not to ask. It would have been a lot worse for this to happen at the end of negotiations instead of the beginning….anyhow, that’s a long-winded way to say that you aren’t the one who should be sorry. It’s me, and I am. The negotiations might not be going as smoothly as we hoped, but things are better with everything out in the open. Don’t you agree?”
Hudson dragged his thumb over one of Abby’s knuckles, leaving tingles in its wake. She tried to concentrate on that feeling, instead of the pang of conscience inspired by his words. Listening to him extol the virtues of honesty, she couldn’t help feeling guilty again about her deception. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she simply bobbed her head at his words.
Hudson frowned, clearly expecting more of a reaction. “So…Will you forgive me?”
Abby didn’t get a chance to reply. They were interrupted by the arrival of the first course. Hudson pulled his hands away, and she instantly felt the loss of his touch. Dinner was sumptuous. At first, Abby was disappointed by the tiny portions, but soon she was grateful for the bite-sized delights as course after course was delivered, each creation more tempting than the last. By the time dessert arrived, brandied cherries on a cloud of torched meringue, her stomach was full, and her head felt warm and fuzzy from countless glasses of wine and champagne.
Somewhere around the poached hen, Hudson captured her hand again. This time, he didn’t let go and she made no attempt to adjust the situation.
After dinner they walked to the Seine, arm in arm, moving slowly past other couples. Abby still couldn’t believe where she was and expressed that sentiment at least a half a dozen times throughout the evening. She had imagined this sort of scene in her head a million times: being in Paris and strolling beside the river. Now that it was real, she felt like she was in a movie. Abby had always pictured herself walking with someone she loved. She wasn’t even sure she liked Hudson half of the time, but she couldn’t deny the physical attraction, and she was certainly enjoying his company tonight. He was attentive and kind, and she couldn’t deny the shiver of desire that spread through her body every time he touched her back to lead her in one direc
tion or another, or when he offered his arm as they walked side by side.
They ended the evening by climbing back into the limo and driving to the Eiffel Tower. The elevators that carried tourists to the top of the monument were closed, but the framework was blanketed in lights that twinkled on and off, making it seem as if the edifice had been doused in fairy dust. It was almost too lovely to be real.
“Can we get out for a moment?” Abby asked.
It was well past midnight. Even though Abby knew that Hudson had an early morning, she didn’t want to leave. She wanted to hold on to the night and never let it go.
“We can do anything you want,” Hudson replied and something about the tone of his voice made her believe him.
Hudson signaled to the driver, and they pulled to a stop in a bus unloading zone near the base of the tower. Hudson helped Abby out of the car and took her hand as they stepped onto the broad sidewalk.
Abby had seen the Eiffel Tower a million times in pictures and in glimpses from the balcony of their hotel, but never so close. Standing at the bottom of one of the giant iron legs, she was nearly overwhelmed by the scale.
“Breathtaking,” she said, as much a sigh of wonder as a word.
“Absolutely.”
Abby turned to the sound of Hudson’s voice and was gratified to realize that he wasn’t looking at the tower at all. His attention was settled on the same thing that had held it transfixed all night: her.
Abby flushed and tried to look away, but Hudson caught her chin and drew her gaze back to his.
Hudson’s eyes were uncharacteristically dark and intense. She felt his stare almost like a physical touch. Abby forgot to breathe as he leaned toward her.
He’s going to kiss me, she thought, her heart racing. Her nerves crackled with anticipation of the touch. Did she want this? That wasn’t the right question. Of course, she wanted it. In this moment, she wanted Hudson Quinn more than she’d ever wanted any man in her life. Should she want him? That was a more complicated question. He didn’t want her, after all. He wanted Gabrielle.
Without warning, Abby stiffened.
Hudson froze for a second, his features betraying his shock, but he quickly recovered, standing tall, smoothing his hand through his hair and turning back toward the car.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Paris came over you.” Abby tried to make her voice sound light and teasing. Inside, she was berating herself for acting like a skittish fool. This was the second time that Hudson had made a move and the second time she had jumped away like a frightened virgin. What did it matter if Hudson didn’t know who she really was? He was probably just looking for a warm body to fill his bed. It wouldn’t matter to him if she was Abby or Gabrielle. Of course, it would matter to her. Abby knew what had really stopped her from receiving the kiss. As much as she loved the fantasy of losing herself in Hudson’s strong arms, she wanted something real. She didn’t know if Hudson Quinn was the sort of man who could give that to any woman, much less an imposter like her. Levesque women make stupid decisions about men, she reminded herself. She wouldn’t let herself fall prey to the family curse.
Determined to try and salvage the night, Abby slipped her hand into Hudson’s again and laid her head on his shoulder. “This is probably one of the most romantic spots in the world.”
“Yes. My brother proposed to his fiancé here.”
It was the second time that Hudson had mentioned his brother. This time, Abby decided not to push for more information.
“Thank you so much for this,” Abby told him as she dragged her attention away from the monument and turned back toward the car. “It’s been an amazing night.”
She shivered and snuggled into the side of his arm as a cool breeze blew by.
“I’m glad we were able to do this. It’s been nice to take a break and not worry about the deal for a few hours. Do you want my jacket?” Hudson didn’t wait for her to reply. He immediately removed his suit coat and draped it across Abby’s shoulders. “Better?”
“Better,” Abby answered. There was a beat of silence that she felt compelled to fill. “So, what’s the plan. Do you really think you can get them to change their minds and accept your deal?”
There was a pause before Hudson answered. He seemed momentarily puzzled by the sudden shift back into business mode but shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know, but we’ve got to give it a try.”
“I read the files that Imogene sent over this afternoon and went online to do some more research. I knew the financial side of Marché d’Été but didn’t have a real appreciation of the scope of the project before. I’m sure you know this, but it’s a really great business! Did you know the stores support several local artisans who otherwise wouldn’t get seen? Some of them are the last practitioners of their crafts in the whole world. They also pay above-average wages for the work and all of their goods are produced in the EU. Some of the little towns where they operate wouldn’t have access to the variety of products and such good jobs if Marché d’Été wasn’t there.”
“All that is well and good, but if it was such a great business model then they wouldn’t be looking for help now, would they? Mr. Fougere is a great man and he’s built something really special, there is no denying that, but he’s hemorrhaging money.”
“But why?”
“That’s the five hundred million Euro question, isn’t it?”
“True, but wouldn’t it be better to figure out what that piece that isn’t working is and fix that?”
“It’s not that simple, Gabrielle. I wish it were.”
“I don’t know, I just think there could be an opportunity here somehow. I mean, we could even benefit from something like this in small towns across the United States.”
“You know, you keep surprising me. When I first met you, it seemed like you were flighty and a little bit bored by the business. Then, when we first came to Paris, you were suddenly shy and timid. Now you are full of big ideas and insights about the deal. … I never know just who I’m going to get with you.”
Abby shied away. He had no idea how close to the truth he was.
Luckily, he didn’t require a reply. Hudson wrapped his arm around Abby’s shoulder and drew her back against his side. She couldn’t help herself from leaning in. She put her head on Hudson’s shoulder and kept it there soaking in the perfection of the moment: the warmth of Hudson’s body through the thin fabric of his shirt, the soft, steady rhythm of his heart and, all around them, the cherry blossom fragrance of the Paris night.
She didn’t know how long they stood there, but Hudson finally nudged her with his chin. “It’s late, Gabrielle. We have to go.”
It was well past one in the morning when they slipped back into the lobby of the hotel. The night clerk was dozing at his desk while a team of florists worked to switch out the elaborate floral arrangements in the middle of the room. They walked past a bucket of discarded roses, the blossoms still plump and full, just barely past their prime. Their scent was lush and heady. Hudson rescued one and offered it to Abby as they climbed into the elevator.
She held the flower up to her nose and then tucked it behind her ear.
“How do I look?”
“You already know the answer,” Hudson said as they walked back into the suite. He helped her out of his jacket, which he folded and tossed carelessly onto a nearby table. “You look bewitching in that dress. It can’t be legal.”
“I understand that public decency laws are somewhat lax here in Europe,” Abby shot back, surprising herself with the boldness of her reply. “And thank you. You looked pretty handsome tonight yourself.”
“Who me? I looked like I always look.”
“Exactly.”
“Are you saying that you like what you see, Ms. Levesque?”
Hudson moved in, closing the distance between them.
“Don’t be silly,” Abby said, and playfully slapped at his chest.
Hudson
caught her wrist gently but didn’t let go. “I’m not playing.”
His tone and demeanor let her know just how serious he was now. Abby stood frozen, mesmerized by the way he looked at her. She could see in his eyes a desire that echoed her own. There was no mistaking the unvoiced question in his gaze. They had flirted before and come close to kissing a couple of times. Now she sensed them sliding backward toward an invisible line. She wanted to cross that line so badly. At the same time, she was terrified by what might be waiting on the other side.
Hudson had no hesitation. He kept his grasp on Abby’s wrist and brought it up around his head, draping it across his shoulder. His own arms slipped around her waist and pulled her close.
“You’re a hard woman to read, Ms. Levesque…but I need to be honest with you about something.”
“Okay?”
“I’ve been having the naughtiest thoughts about you all night. You’ve been driving me crazy.”
He kept his eyes trained on hers and she couldn’t look away. She was barely able to eke out a response. “You have?”
“Uh-huh,” Hudson said, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers. “Every time you twirled your hair trying to make a decision on the menu…The way your eyes lit up when you saw the Eiffel Tower…Feeling your body lean against mine … every minute you’ve been driving me crazy, but you’re the queen of mixed signals lately and I don’t know what you want.”
That’s the five hundred million Euro question. Hudson’s words about the Fougere deal echoed through Abby’s brain. That was the problem. She didn’t know what she wanted. At least, she didn’t know how to let go and take it. Surely it was possible to share her body without losing her heart? After all, the real Gabrielle did that all the time.