Worth the Scandal by Karen Erickson Page A

him.
    Unfortunately, he came to her in her dreams more often than not.
    “Do you have the schedule, Tessa?”
    She handed it over without comment, discreetly watching out of the corner of her eye as he glanced it over. As usual he looked perfect in his black suit and crisp white shirt, a blue and red patterned Worth tie knotted around his neck. He wore glasses as he was wont to do, her every Clark Kent/Superman fantasy come to life and she tore her gaze away from him, irritated.
    They sat next to each other in the car on their way to the Paris location, the distance between them as vast as the ocean, at least in her mind. In reality she could reach out and rest her hand on his thigh and if he were so inclined he could certainly slide his hand up her skirt...
    Banishing her fantasies, she stifled a yawn and stared out the window at the city passing by. It was relatively early and morning sunlight filtered through a drift of clouds that lingered in the otherwise bright blue sky.
    The Eiffel Tower suddenly appeared in the distance and it took everything for her not to press her face against the glass of the car window like a child and stare at the iconic symbol of her youthful, romantic dreams. As a teen, she’d had a poster of the Eiffel Tower on her wall, right next to her Audrey Hepburn, Breakfast at Tiffany’s poster.
    To see it, even while driving by, made her heart yearn for those simpler days. When the biggest hardship she endured was doing her homework and wondering if a certain boy liked her.
    “You can go see the Eiffel Tower later, after the opening.”
    Tessa moved away from the window, settling into the plush seat and faced straight ahead. “I might.” She refused to look at him.
    “I can take you, if you’d like.”
    She refrained from rolling her eyes. Please. Why the sudden interest in being with her again? “Thank you, but no. I don’t want to put you out or anything.”
    “Tessa…”
    “Stop.” For once, she interrupted him, holding up her hand to halt his words. “Whatever you’re going to say, please don’t.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the seat. The very last thing she wanted to hear out of him.
    “I was an ass.”
    Opening her eyes, she turned to look at him, startled by his declaration. “Excuse me?”
    “I’ve behaved like a complete ass toward you.” He glanced down, staring at his hands which were braced on his knees, the schedule she’d handed him on the floor and long forgotten. “And I want to apologize.”
    “You’re forgiven.” Not really but she didn’t want to hear him say another word, didn’t want to get her hopes up.
    All he had to do was look at her, offer her a bit of kindness and she was ready to forgive him for everything and throw herself at him.
    She was such a fool.
    Alex chuckled. “You said that quickly.”
    “I’m not one to hold a grudge.” She tilted her nose in the air, hoping he would stop talking.
    He watched her, she felt his gaze upon her, hot and brazen, evaluating her. She’d dressed simply, pale blue fitted button-up and a black pencil skirt with black opaque tights and a long rope of pearls twined around her neck. She’d gone for Parisian chic, studying photos of French women on the web last night for inspiration.
    Tessa frowned. It was official. Her life was as boring being a faux jetsetter as it was when she sat at home alone in her room, hiding from her roommates and the rude boyfriend, wishing for something—more.
    “Let me take you, Tessa.”
    “Take me where, Alex? To the Eiffel Tower? How about a walking tour of the most romantic spots in Paris? I saw a brochure offering such a thing in the hotel lobby this morning.” She snorted, not caring how unladylike she sounded. “I don’t think so.” Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she resumed staring out the window, hoping he’d get the hint.
    He didn’t. “I thought you weren’t one to hold a grudge.”
    She turned on him again,