French Escape: From Daredevil to Devoted Daddy / One Week with the French Tycoon / It Happened in Paris.... Barbara McMahon

before. Her hands skimmed against his bare chest, feeling the muscles, his skin heating when she rested her palm against him.

      For a moment she wished Alexandre was home in bed and just she and Matt were swimming in the darkened sea. Touching, kissing.

      “We should go back,” she said in a low voice. If it had been the two of them, she knew nothing would have stopped kisses and caresses.

      So slowly she knew it was an effort, he released her, trailing his fingertips across her bare back, sending shivers up her spine.

      “Race you, Alexandre,” she said to cover her confusion. In a moment she was splashed by the little boy’s wild swimming technique. This was her reality.

      When they reached the shore, Matt right beside them, Alexandre ran onto the sand. “I beat!” He danced around and laughed. “That was fun!”

      As Jeanne-Marie slowly climbed out of the water, heading for her towel, she could feel Matt’s gaze on her and wished she dared turn around to feast her eyes on him. A spotlight on the beach would have been perfect. But first things first. She had her son to think about.

      “No warm sun to dry us off,” Matt commented, standing near her, watching her as she toweled off her body. She glanced his way, captivated by what she could see of his broad chest and muscular arms. He needed a lot of upper body strength to lift his body by his hands on climbs. She wished she had the courage to reach out and feel that strength. She looked away, yearnings firmly squashed.

      “Can we do that again?” Alexandre asked.

      “Not tonight. Time you got to bed. Tomorrow will be a big day,” she said, pulling on the short cover-up. She wrung water from her hair and then looked at Matt again, vaguely disappointed he’d pulled on a T-shirt. So much for fantasies in the moonlight.

      The next morning Alexandre bounced on the backseat of Matt’s car. He seemed almost more excited to be in Matt’s car than about his visit. Going to Marseilles with Matt felt like a big adventure to her, so she could empathize with her son’s excitement. They’d deliver Alexandre to his grandparents after lunch and then she’d spend the rest of the afternoon and evening with Matt. Anticipation built. She wanted to rein it in, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t squelch her excitement.

      It was not a date. Not precisely. They’d have Alexandre with them for part of the day. It was the kindness of a guest to his hostess.

      She didn’t believe that for one second.

      After lunch at a family-style restaurant, they arrived at the small home on the outskirts of town where the senior Rousseaus lived. Matt parked in front.

      “Shall I carry his bag in?” he asked, turning slightly in the seat to look at the house.

      “No. I’ll just be a minute,” Jeanne-Marie said. She could just imagine what spin Adrienne would put on seeing her with Matt. She didn’t want to force her into acting like a gracious hostess. She’d deliver Alexandre and let his grandparents spoil him. While she went on her own adventure. “Tell Matt goodbye.”

      In seconds she took her son’s hand and headed up the short walkway to the front door. She rang the bell. When she and Phillipe came to visit, he’d always walked right in, but she didn’t feel comfortable doing that, though the Rousseaus had told her time and again she didn’t need to stand on ceremony.

      “Ah, Alexandre, you’re here!” Adrienne threw open the door and greeted her grandson with a bright smile and big hug. “I thought you might be here earlier. I called the inn to get an exact time and your clerk said you’d already left.”

      “We ate lunch with Matt,” Alexandre said, turning to wave at the car.

      Adrienne looked beyond them to the car, her smile fading. “I see. I thought he was a guest at the inn.” She looked at Jeanne-Marie with worry in her eyes.

      “He is. He offered to drive us here today. He has a friend in Marseilles also vacationing,” Jeanne-Marie said, feeling guilty.

      “So you don’t wish to come in,” Adrienne said.

      “I don’t think I should keep him waiting,” Jeanne-Marie said. This was more awkward than she’d anticipated. What if Adrienne thought she was dating again?

      In a way she was.

      Her mother-in-law looked at the car again and then shook her head. “Well, we’ve planned such fun things to do, Alexandre. If your mother’s made other plans, we need to tell her goodbye.”

      Jeanne-Marie looked at her closely. “It’s not a date,” she said, not wanting to hurt her mother-in-law. She did, however, have the right to see anyone she wished. And if she did start dating again, it didn’t mean she’d ever forget Phillipe.