The Laws of Seduction: A French Kiss Novel by Gwen Jones

shirt straining across her breasts, a pencil skirt hugging up and around that gorgeous cul . And those legs. Even though they went on forever, he had a good idea how to make them stop. By wrapping them around his hips and burying himself inside her.
    Not that he needed to be thinking any more about his libido. Had he paid it a little less attention, he wouldn’t be walking out of a courthouse now.
    “So where are we going?” she said, opening another door to a service corridor.
    “How about my hotel?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, that’s so not happening.”
    One more door and they were out on the street. “Quench your dreams of glory, mademoiselle. I need to wash and change. Though you’d better decide where we’re going after that, as it’s either your place or mine.”
    Which she looked none too happy about. “All right, mine then.”
    “ Très bien .” He looked up and down the street. “Where’d you park your car?”
    “I didn’t bring it,” she said. “I don’t use it much in the city. It’s easier to take the subway.”
    He gaped at her with mild horror. “You honestly don’t expect I’d get on—”
    “Calm down, your majesty. The Ritz is just down the street. See?” She pointed to it. “We can walk.”
    “Oh, stellar,” he said, taking off his jacket to sling it over his shoulder. He thumbed his collar. “Nothing says Eurotrash like evening clothes in daylight.”
    Charlotte laughed. “But you wear them so well.” She slipped the briefcase strap to her shoulder with a wince. “This way.”
    “Give me that,” he said, taking the heavy leather satchel from her.
    She pulled back. “I can handle it. I don’t need your help.”
    “I’m sure you don’t,” he said, yanking it back. “But the cad in me is just gentlemen enough not to ignore a lady struggling in the street. So indulge me, please?”
    She let go, crossing her arms. “Fine—it’s all yours.”
    He hoisted the handle, wincing. “What do you have in here, hammers?”
    “No, just the evidence of your guilt.”
    “Which means we’ll have to hire a truck to carry the evidence for my side.”
    “Hm . . .” was all she said.
    They walked for half a block more before he finally broke the silence. “You didn’t think I’d get out today, did you?”
    She slanted him a glance. “I didn’t think it’d be easy. There was that jet to consider.”
    “You still think me capable of all kinds of mischief, don’t you?”
    “I wasn’t the one you had to convince.”
    He took her arm, steering her around a pile of broken glass. “You do have a point.”
    One more block and they were at the Ritz-Carlton, entering into the cavernous marble lobby. She aimed for a sofa. “I’ll wait here.”
    “Not on your life,” he said, taking her arm again. “Remember the judge’s order. We’re to remain as thick as thieves.”
    “Doesn’t mean I have to visit your den of iniquity,” she said.
    He turned, regarding her. “ Ma cher avocate , if you so fear my turning into a sex fiend the moment you and I occupy the same enclosed space, then by all means, wait near an opened window. I’m sure your screaming is pure poetry.” He pressed the up button for the elevator. “For Christ’s sake, what are you going to do when we get to your house and we’re really alone?”
    She didn’t reply, watching the floor indicator instead. “Where was that fund-raiser last night?”
    “The ballroom. On the second floor.”
    She looked at him. “Take me there.”
    He had no idea what she was about. “All right.”
    The fund-raiser had run late into the night, and the staff was still shuffling tables and setting up for the next reception. As they stood in the doorway Charlotte said, “How crowded was it last night?”
    “Packed to the jowls,” Rex said. “Took us quite a while to squeeze through the crowd to get out.”
    “When you left to go . . . ?” She let the obvious simply hang there.
    “Yes,” he said.
    “Take me to