Unlike Arnaud, Remy held her close, pressing her body into his, his hands sliding down her back, along her spine to the curve of her hips.

“I need you. You were here, so of course I would come.” His lips brushed the corner of her eye and trailed kisses to the corner of her mouth. “I wouldn’t want to miss seein’ you like this. You look beautiful, Bijou. Absolutely stunning. When I first saw you, across the room, you took my breath away.”

She moved her body against his, melting inside and out. Warm. So much love. The intensity of her feelings for him overwhelming. She wanted to be beautiful for him. “I missed you,” she admitted. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“You babysit him, don’ you? There really isn’t anything more than friendship between you.”

“I told you.”

“Tellin’ me and it bein’ real are two very different things.”

He was surprisingly smooth on the dance floor, leading her with the same casual confidence and strength that he did everything. He moved with fluid grace and guided her unerringly across the crowded floor. Now that Arnaud wasn’t there for her to concentrate on, she was more aware of people whispering and taking photographs with cell phones as she went by them. She buried her face against Remy’s shoulder.

Remy bent his head down toward hers, his lips brushing her ear. “I want to take you home and make, long, slow love to you.”

She reached up to circle his neck with her arms. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”

It was true. She wanted to be alone with him. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift with him to the music on a rising tide of lust and love. With every passing moment, her body reacted more and more to the closeness of his, but it was her heart she found was so full it hurt. She felt his erection, thick, hard and hot against her stomach, and she loved knowing he wanted her as much as she did him.

The longer she was in his arms, the more secure she felt. The world dropped away until there was only the two of them and the delicious embers slowly fanning into flames between her legs. She could feel herself growing slick and hot with need, but unlike all the other times with Remy, this was a slower and gentler build to a coiling tension.

“Come on, chere, before I make an ass out of myself,” he whispered against her ear. “You’ve done your job and gotten Lefevre through it. Let the gallery owners do the rest. Come home with me.”