He cleared his throat, and I braced myself for him to ask me to put sunscreen on his back. My hands itched. I might die or accidentally moan out loud if I got to run my hands over that body. He didn’t ask, just tossed the cream back in the bag.

“You’re welcome. I hope it wasn’t too tedious.”

I lifted a shoulder. There were so many things I wanted to ask him. Like why he seemed so strained around his father. And about that Morosto character. “Tedious? No. Tense? Perhaps. Forgive me saying, but you … weren’t yourself.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“I’m sorry. Perhaps I was wrong,” I backpedaled. “I don’t know you. I don’t know how you normally act—”

“No, you’re right.” He let out a sigh and looked toward Dauphine who was now trying and failing to do cartwheels in the shallow waves. “I don’t see much of my father. And he wants me to invest in something. And of course, he chose the most high profile place to meet.”

“Yeah. It’s a nice beach club. Seems like it’s been there a while.”

“Since the fifties. Before that the only exciting thing to happen were the allies landing right here.

“Wow, really? We only hear about the beaches at Normandy, but I guess they came from all sides.”

He grinned. “There wasn’t much here. A local family built some small bungalows. Then they added a community table in the sand and invited passersby to join them. Brigitte Bardot … you know her?”

I nodded. The sexy French actress of many a black and white movie.

“She was filming here. The movie Et Dieu …Créa La Femme. And God Created Woman.” He chuckled huskily. “My grandfather used to tell me the story. The whole crew ate here every day. And after that, in 1955, the family got a business license and it’s been Le Club Cinquante-Cinq and full of,” he gestured with his hand, “the rich and famous ever since.”

“Including you.”

He shrugged with a smile tugging his lips.

“So, it’s the oldest of all these places I see up and down this stretch?”

He chuckled. “Oh no. The Tahiti is the oldest by just a few years. And at the Tahiti, like many beaches in Europe … clothing is optional.”

Heat crawled up my neck.

He smirked, and if I wasn’t mistaken his angled face was currently looking at my body. Really looking.

I felt the gaze, even though I couldn’t see his eyes. Or did I? Was this the worst kind of wishful thinking? I cleared my throat. “Cool story. Well, lunch was great.”

“The food was. It always is. Our company though …” he shook his head and looked toward his daughter.