A Taste Of Desire

He wished, wondering briefly if her skin was as soft as it looked. “No, I have business, too.” He tossed back the rest of his whiskey when he thought of how his brother had tried to hide this meeting from him. Destin couldn’t wait to see the look on Elliot’s face. “I’m meeting with a lawyer.”

“Uh-oh, are you in trouble?”

He smiled. “Nothing like that. I don’t like lawyers.”

She turned her body toward him, which pleased him. “Really? Why?”

“I’ve found them to be unfeeling, soulless and greedy. Every last one of them.” Her eyes flashed, and he mentally patted himself on the back for holding her attention.

“I know a lot of nice lawyers who would take offense to that.”

“Well, I’m sorry for your friends, but I have yet to meet a lawyer who isn’t out to get rich while destroying someone else’s life.”

Her gaze lowered, and she turned her body back toward the bar. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Unfortunately true.” He signaled for another whiskey. “What is it you said you do?”

“Umm... I’m a...yoga instructor.”

That made sense. She looked fit.

“Did you just look at my legs?”

Merde. He had. And not just a quick peek; he’d stared a little. “For business purposes only. If I were going to do yoga, I would hire you. You look flexible.”

“Excuse me?” Her eyes widened, but she laughed a little, which he liked the sound of.

Mon Dieu, he really was out of practice with women. Where was his whiskey? “I meant, if I were a woman looking for an instructor.” He paused. “I think Thereza does yoga,” he added quickly, gesturing toward the empty seat. He had no idea if the young blonde did yoga.

“Is your girlfriend okay? She’s been in the restroom a while.”

“She’s probably on the phone. And she’s not my girlfriend,” he murmured distractedly. The woman turned her head to him slowly and tipped her face toward his. There were sparks in her dark eyes again—exquisite.

“Really? Does she know that?” Her icy tone was palpable.

Destin never rose to the touchiness in a woman’s voice. In a former life, he had kissed hands, opened doors and led women by the smalls of their backs. His mother had raised him and his brother to be gentlemen. He’d been married to a sweet, stunning lady.

The pain of the memory pulled him back into the present. He was no longer that young man.

And this woman and her commanding tone were stirring something dark in him. Leaning in, he swiveled his amused gaze to her annoyed one. “She knows.”

As if on cue, Thereza slid in between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her giggles mingled with his audible sigh as he peeled her off him and wrestled her onto her stool, enticing her with the fries.

He peered over Thereza’s head at his beautiful new acquaintance, who was now acting like she didn’t know him. She sipped her wine, ignoring them, yet he caught the tiniest clench in her jaw. He berated himself for not finding out her name.

Destin saw her head turn toward the entrance and pause. She clutched her small bag and popped off the stool. He watched as she walked toward the crowd of people at the door, curious to see whom she was meeting. Then his thoughts shifted when he spotted Elliot. Finally!

Destin stood and signaled to his brother. The surprise on Elliot’s slim face was priceless but short-lived as his attention was diverted by...the yoga instructor?

Chapter 3 (#uc45316d4-c185-533d-a9f8-11b16cad4029)

Elliot Dechamps strolled into the restaurant, handed his coat to a server and assaulted both of Nicole’s cheeks with kisses. His blond hair was slightly longer than in his picture, but he was just as handsome and stylish in a black button-down open at the neck and slim-cut trousers.

“Enchanté, Ms. Parks. I hope Anton has taken excellent care of you.” He didn’t apologize for being late. Instead, his head swiveled toward the bar, and he frowned and nodded at someone. Then he called Anton over and requested that he change their table.

Elliot turned to her. “It looks my brother, Destin, is unexpectedly joining us. And he seems to have brought a friend. I assure you, this is not how we usually do business. My brother can be—” He searched for a word. “Impetuous.” With a tight smile, Elliot waved toward the bar.

Nicole’s mind ran over the details of the dossier that she had read about the Dechamps brothers. Just a few years out of Oxford, they’d successfully opened a branch of their family’s winery. At the time, winemaking in Brazil was still experimental, but they quickly rose to mainstream success. Destin was the eldest and the driving force behind the creation of the wines and the agricultural operation. Elliot was the business mind, and took on the finances and sales.

A fire had taken the winery almost four years ago, along with Destin’s wife.

So sad, she thought, as she turned toward the bar and—

No.

Oh, no...

Whiskey in hand, drunk girlfriend struggling to keep up, her lawyer-hating barfly was patting Elliot on the back. Elliot turned to her.

“Miss Parks, my brother, Destin. Destin, Miss Nicole Parks, the attorney from Kingsley’s.”

Destin slid a glance at his brother, and Nicole was sure he was going to say something smart. Instead, he stretched out his hand, his expression unreadable. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Parks.”

“Lovely to meet you, as well, Monsieur Dechamps.” She slipped her palm into the warmth of his hand. Her pulse jumped. She chalked it up to being flustered.

They released each other, and Destin stepped to the side. “And this is Thereza.”

Nicole introduced herself to the blonde, who didn’t seem to recognize her from the bar at all.

“I thought you were going to Paris tonight,” Elliot hissed, pulling Destin off to the side. Nicole eavesdropped as she pretended to look out the bay window, but she could see the brothers from the corner of her eye.

Destin shrugged. “I had another engagement.”

Elliot eyed Destin’s companion then pursed his lips at Destin. “Mon Dieu, Destin, is it really that hard for you to face our father?”

Destin seethed. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Good. You need to talk this out.”

Destin ignored him.

Evidently satisfied that everyone had met, Elliot took Thereza by the hand and led her toward the table. Destin frowned, his blue gaze boring into Nicole’s. Then he offered her his arm for the short walk.

“You’re the attorney?” he murmured. “No yoga?”

She placed her hand inside his biceps. It felt like steel. “I do yoga. I find that it helps me to keep my soul.”

He raised a brow at her. “Touché.” He led her through the tables. “I supposed my statement was harsh. It just never occurred to me that you were an attorney.”