Under My Skin: A Contemporary Romance Set in Paris (Bistro La Bohème Book 2) by Alix Nichols Page A

over for the past hour as he paced up and down the hotel lobby,
waiting for Jeanne. She had no clue he was here in Copenhagen, stalking her in
front of the hotel’s reception hall. In fact, hardly anyone knew he was here.
When Rob had mentioned a week ago he and Lena were traveling to Copenhagen for
the baptism of Pepe’s baby, he’d asked if Jeanne was going , too. Rob confirmed, narrowing his eyes at him, as if unsure why it was any of
Mat’s business.
    But Mat was beyond caring. He’d stayed away
from Jeanne for nearly three months now, ever since their kiss at Amanda’s
party. He’d been hoping that time would cure him. As it turned out, time had
other plans. His yearning for her had only grown stronger with every passing
day until it reached a tipping point. He could no longer bear it. He had to see
her.
    When Rob told him about the Copenhagen trip
Mat had been racking his brain for a reason to turn up at La Bohème .
    And it just so happened that he had an almost
plausible motive to go to the Danish capital himself. He’d been in touch with
the Greens in Humlebaek, a small town near Copenhagen twinned with Baleville . They’d discussed some common concerns and exchanged ideas. Before ending their
latest phone talk, they’d exchanged nonspecific invitations. From there,
telling Cécile he was invited to an important meeting in Humlebaek over the
weekend wasn’t a complete lie—just an extension of the truth.
    Mat glanced at his watch. Nine o’clock. The
party would probably go on until midnight, but he hoped Jeanne would pop out at
some point to go to the ladies’ room. Right on cue, she stepped into the lobby
and hurried toward the elevators. She looked amazing in her 50s-style pastel
blue dress. Her hair was done up and her mouth painted cherry red. But her face
was contorted in pain.
    Mat hovered by the elevators for about five minutes, struggling not to
bite his nails. Then, on a mad impulse, he jumped into one and rode up to the
eleventh floor .
    Thank heaven for Scandinavian helpfulness.
    The friendly receptionist had given him Jeanne’s room number just because
he’d asked politely . Something like
that would never happen in France, or any other place he could think of.
    The elevator came to a halt. Without taking a moment to question the
wisdom of what he was about to do, Mat strode over to Jeanne’s door and
knocked.
    “Yes? Who’s there?” she said from behind the door.
    “It’s Mat . . . Will you let me in?”
    There was a brief pause, before he heard her shuffle toward the door.
When she opened it, she looked unusually pale.
    “Are you OK?” he asked, touching her arm.
    “I’m fine . . . Just a nasty stomach ache. Must be the
oysters.” She looked him in the eyes. “What are you doing here?”
    “I’m in Denmark for work. Rob told me you were in Copenhagen.” He spread
his arms helplessly. “I had to see you.”
    She sighed, turned around, and wobbled to the bed, leaving him stranded
in the doorway.
    “Come in, if you want,” she said as she dropped on her tummy on top of
the neatly tucked bed cover. “But I won’t be great company tonight.”
    Mat stepped into the dimly lit room and pulled the door shut behind him.
“Shall I get some medicine? I can ask the reception where the nearest pharmacy
is—”
    “I downed a Coca-Cola from the vending machine. It usually helps. I just
need to lie down and wait.”
    He sat on the bed by her feet and watched her. He couldn’t help himself.
Her dress wasn’t as revealing as the one she had worn at Rob and Lena’s party.
This one was more girly—cinched at the waist, flared knee-length skirt, and
puffy sleeves. The silky fabric draped her curves in a loose, gentle embrace.
    Jeanne squirmed, groaned faintly and shifted her position, raising her
arms to put them under her head. She looked miserable.
    Poor darling , he
thought and turned away, ashamed. Because part of him was wondering how much
longer he could stand being so