When the dance was over, several people clapped and Arnaud dipped her with a small smile that never quite reached his eyes. When he pulled her back up, he put his mouth next to her ear. “I have to get out of here. I need to work. I have to get to New York in a few days, so I’m running out of time and everything has set me back. This is such a waste of my time.”

“A few more minutes and I’ll give you a clear exit,” Bijou promised. She’d managed to extricate him from shows early before. “And it isn’t a waste. These people love your art and they purchase it, which enables you to make more art. Think of it that way.”

“Thanks.” Arnaud allowed her to guide him toward two men in suits. Both had very young actresses hanging on their arms. “Tell me their names again. I always forget.”

Bijou laughed and obliged. Arnaud rarely cared enough to remember someone’s name, although he had amazing business sense. He was a mixture of a dreamy child, a moody, driven, obsessed genius of an artist and a man who seemed to care nothing for the social world he had to maneuver and did so with aplomb.

They spent the next fifteen minutes talking and laughing with the two customers who were two of Arnaud’s biggest advocates and had purchased several of his most expensive and biggest sculptures. Bijou did most of the talking, but they were flattered to meet her and flirted outrageously with her. She made a show of glancing at her watch.

“I’m so sorry, but, Arnaud, you have to leave right now if you’re going to get the right light you need for your work. If you miss this opportunity, you’ll have to wait an entire month before the moon is in the right position again.”

She’d used that absurd excuse on three occasions and it always worked. If someone had heard it before, well, genius took time, and if he could only work when the moon was in a specific position, they all wanted to see his next creation so they indulged his obsessive behavior.

Arnaud brushed a light kiss along her cheek and hastily waved to the crowd, disappearing through the back to make his exit fast.

Remy swept Bijou into his arms and onto the dance floor. “You are gettin’ harder and harder to keep track of. It takes an army now.”

She gave him her most dazzling smile as she looked up into his eyes. He looked tired, exhausted even, but more handsome than ever—and he had that look in his eyes he reserved only for her. “You didn’t have to come,” she whispered against his shoulder. “I know how tired you are. You need sleep.”