The couch he was seated on was next to a marble fireplace, and the plush wine-red carpeting gave the lobby bar a rich, old-money feel to it. It was like a private club. He rose and planted a kiss on one cheek, then the other. Then, a deep, possessive kiss on her mouth. As if he were marking her.

When they pulled apart, she felt dazed. Her head was foggy. The details of the day, of her talk, of her chat with Julien and Denis scattered on the ground. She didn’t mind, though; her day had been amazing, and now she was going to take her reward. Jack would be her dessert.

“Did you bring down the house?” he asked, as he gestured for her to sit next to him. She did, crossing her legs. He watched her.

“You’re staring at my legs,” she said.

“I know. I’m thinking about them draped on my shoulders.”

She laughed. “I need a scotch.”

He signaled the waiter, and ordered a drink for her as well. “So?” he asked, returning to their conversation.

“It was amazing. I was so energized. I really felt like I was connecting with the audience, and they were responding and learning. It was incredible,” she said, and she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face if she tried. Professional pride coursed through her. “Days like this remind me that I am so utterly lucky to be able to do what I love for a living.”

He held up his glass in toast. “To the smartest, sexiest, most wonderful woman I know. Congrats on a job well done,” he said, and a minute later, the waiter brought her drink, so they toasted once more. She took a swallow, then shared more details of her day. The conversation helped keep the focus on the type of relationship she and Jack were having—a temporary one. “I’m not exaggerating when I say I think this day is one of the highlights of my career,” she added.

She was tempted to bring up last night, if only to let him know he should simply forget what she’d said, to free him of any sense of obligation. She didn’t want him to worry that she’d misunderstood their arrangement. She was a modern woman; she could handle this. She could adhere to the fine details of their verbal agreement. But she’d have to find the right moment for that, because whatever she had to say, she had to say it lightly. It had to be believable when she told him to forget she’d ever tried to bring love into the equation. She needed to be able to laugh it off, as if it were in the heat of the moment only—the rain, the perfume, Paris.

“Do you have any idea how unbelievably attractive it is that you love what you do so much?”

“Thank you. I could say the same about you.”

He nodded. “I can’t imagine not running Joy Delivered. I’m a lucky man to be able to do what I love, and to run it with my sister, who’s pretty much my best friend.”