"A glass of champagne for the lady, s'il vous plaît." Michel turned his focus back to her as soon as the instruction was spoken. He was a man used to having his orders followed, and there was something very sexy about that. "I have instructed the staff to bring us the nine-course chef tasting, so you can enjoy a sampling of their delicacies."

"Sounds delightful." She didn't need food. She just needed him to keep talking. All. Night. Long. His voice was enough to give her an orgasm.

The waiter poured her a glass from the bottle of Pernod-Ricard Perrier-Jouet. She suddenly felt uncomfortable. The restaurant, the champagne, the money he'd spent on her paintings…was he trying to buy her? While the dream of finding a rich man to whisk her out of her Cinderella life sounded good on paper, there was something slightly off-putting about being bought outright. She needed to ensure she wouldn't get caught up in the world he weaved around her.

He sat back in his chair; his relaxed pose showed a man who was at one with his surroundings. But he didn't have the affected demeanor of a snob, either. His suit, while well cut, had no tie and his shirt was open at the throat-he looked comfortable yet sophisticated all at once. She imagined he would look just as relaxed in a seedy bar in the West Village. His inner grace was potent and made her feel at ease as well. Yet, at the same time, she felt the smoldering lust that churned just below the surface.

Not just in her, but emanating from him, too.

Looking down to the table, she noticed it was set for three, not two. A question formed on her lips, but she was caught off-guard by his interjected comment. The richness of his voice washed over her like fine liquor rolling down her tongue.

"I'm so happy you could make it tonight." His eyes twinkled with mirth and she felt like sighing at the devastating smile he gifted her with.

"I appreciate the invitation. I've been so curious about you."

"As have I." He steepled his fingers before him, his elbows resting on the sides of his chair as he stared longingly at her. "How long have you been painting?"

"I've painted nearly all my life. It's always calmed me." It had. It had been her escape ever since she'd been a young girl. Everyone needed a creative outlet.

"To find a way to improve your life while doing what you love, even better." He lifted his glass and offered her a toast. They clinked glasses and Kadence took a hardy sip, trying to calm her frayed nerves. Once she settled her glass, she felt heat rushing over her and she lifted her eyes. He openly appraised her.

She felt her nipples tightening.

"Absolutely, I've always hoped to work doing what I love, not just toiling to make money in order to live." She looked away, seeking the shelter of the nighttime park once again. His insistent attention was making her flustered, his stare boring into hers. She searched for things to say, something to fill the strangling sexual tension that was already filling the space. "I bet the view here in the daylight is incredible."

"I will have to bring you back some day to see it."

The implied future event gave her pause. Her heart leapt at the thought of more, but it was also very assumptive. Michel had a physical pull, intriguing in a sexual nature alone. She wanted to know more. But, she also needed to keep a firm foot near the brakes and not let a runaway train hit her. She looked again at the third setting. "Are we being joined?"

"Oui. A friend of mine would also like to meet you. He's become a fan of your work, as well."

"On that note, I have the art here." She handed him the container and quickly tucked the envelope holding her payment into her small clutch after he handed it over. "May I ask you a question?"

"Oui. Of course."

"What is it about my paintings that made you want to purchase them?" She leaned in, placing her elbows on the table, even if it were a no-no. She wanted to see his expression as he answered her.

"I believe I can better answer that than Michel." A rich, deep voice sounded from behind her.

Kadence twisted in her seat and looked over her right shoulder.

Expressively blue eyes were framed by a strong brow and a straight nose. His cheekbones were high, but the firm, chiseled edge of his chin didn't allow his face to look feminine in any way. Light, brown hair was longer than what she usually liked in a man, but it looked right for him. A very tall, thick, muscled body was something hard to rage against her softness.