Julian remained standing while the waiter seated her. Nobody had ever done that for Camille. With just two chairs at the small table, he sat with his back to the railing and reached across the table for her hand.
She succumbed, but reminded herself this was Julian’s staple for wooing the ladies. He probably brought all his conquests here to fill their tummies and get them in the mood so he could win their favors. And he’d brought her here just to keep up the charade. But she wasn’t one of his conquests. She was his business partner.
“Would you care to see a wine list?” the waiter asked.
Julian rattled off something in French, and Camille didn’t doubt they’d soon be drinking the finest champagne France had to offer.
But damn. She’d just as soon sip on a cocktail. Something sweet, exotic, and intoxicating.
The waiter walked away and Julian fiddled with his jacket and tie and beamed at her with an overdone smile. “What’s your pleasure? Chicken, seafood or steak?”
“I have to choose one?”
Julian howled. But it was a good kind of laughter. An enjoyable one. “Chéri, you can have everything on the menu, if that’s your desire.”
Her desire was a Pina Colada. And why couldn’t she ask for one? Why was she trying to appear so agreeable? She didn’t need to impress Julian. She just needed to stay put and not leave.
She leaned toward him. “Julian,” she whispered, “do they serve cocktails here? I’d so love something fruity and sweet.”
He looked crushed. “I’m sorry, Chéri.”
The waiter appeared, ready to take their order.
Julian focused on Camille. “What would you like to drink? Margarita? Pina Colada?”
“A Pina Colada would be awesome.”
Julian turned to the waiter and rattled off some directions in French. She thought she caught a few of the words, French terms for chicken, beef, and some kind of fish, crustacean maybe. Was he ordering a little bit of everything, just to please her? She could see why Madeleine wasn’t willing to let Julian go so easily.
Madeleine was the least of her worries, so long as the girl didn’t expose Camille and Julian’s scheme. Camille tossed the potential threat aside and contemplated the dessert menu.
One waiter left and another appeared with her drink, topped off with fresh strawberries, pineapple and maraschino cherries. She went for the fruit, devouring the strawberry and savoring every morsel.
Camille glanced at Julian. He was ranging his glance up and down, gauging her with a seductive gleam. She’d swear he had x-ray eyes. Desire danced with her heart. She wavered and looked away, grabbing her Pina Colada.
“Is this your first time in Europe, Chéri?” Julian looked as surprised by his question as she felt.
“Yes.” Overwrought with feelings of inadequacy, she siphoned her drink up the straw.
“Is there anywhere special that you’d like to see while you’re here?” he asked. “We have ample time. Would you like to tour?”
Camille wasn’t comfortable saying, yes, I’d like to tour Europe. It reeked of taking advantage. But they would be going on a honeymoon, wouldn’t they? She drained more of the Pina Colada and a relaxing sensation warmed her. “You know,” she said, half encouraged by the liquor’s temporary confidence. “I’ve always wanted to see the Greek Isles.”
“By ship?”
“A cruise?” She absent-mindedly chewed on her straw.
“How about a yacht?”
A yacht? That sounded wonderful. “If you’re trying to win points, de Laurent, you’re well on your way.” She smiled, laced her fingers around the shapely cocktail glass and slurped the bottom of the empty frozen treat.
The waiter brought them an appetizer plate of pan-fried prawns and cannelloni. He glanced at Julian, who motioned to Camille’s glass and then nodded him away post-haste.
“How many points do I need to get something good?” Julian asked Camille, and then drained his champagne glass.
“Just two more.” She giggled. The liquor kept her from blushing. “So pay attention.”
She laughed and reached for a prawn. Not only did it taste divine, but she needed to put something on her stomach since she wasn’t a big drinker.
“Speaking of debts.” He let the words linger on his tongue.
Camille got the feeling this wasn’t going to be good. Was he going to claim his prize for their bet over Pacifique de Lumière?
“Okay. Okay.” She laughed it off. “I was suitably impressed. You win.” She forced her gaze up to meet his. “So, what’s your reward?”
“Nothing more than the pleasure of your company, Chéri,” he said with a smile that could melt Antarctica.
Damn. This guy was good. If he made a pass, Camille doubted she’d be able to resist.
A smorgasbord of food arrived just in time to keep her from throwing herself at him, and filled all the vacant space on the table.
Julian was invitingly attentive, filling her plate with samples from all the dishes, a variety of lobster, escargot, lamb, duck and filet mignon.
She nibbled on lobster dipped in butter, savoring the sweet, creamy flavors. “So, when exactly are we getting married here?”
“I think the sooner the better,” he said between bites of lamb and steak. “I’d like to send my brother for your friend in a day or two, and then we can have the ceremony at the end of the week.” His sea-green eyes studied her face. “How does that sound?”
She propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. Excuses danced across her mind, none of them viable enough to stick. “Sounds fine.” Not interested in finding a reason to say ‘no’, she turned her focus to the delectable fares. “What’s this?” she asked, pointing to a bowl of small shells in butter sauce. She had ideas about the dish’s identity but refrained from passing judgment.
“Escargot,” he said as if it was no big deal, but there wasn’t any on his plate.
She swallowed hard and tried to push the confirmation out of her head. “I’m not really in to snails.” She took quick short breaths, nausea setting in. “In fact, they’re kind of gross.”
Julian laughed. “My sentiments exactly, Chéri. You’re probably the first person I’ve met who doesn’t enjoy the delicacy.”
Camille giggled. “Care to make a wager on how many people eat these things and actually like them?” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “I know a lot of people who wouldn’t touch that stuff with a ten foot pole.” She scooped the shell up between two fingers and inspected it. Ugh! Distaste rattled her shoulders.