5
ALAIN WATCHED HIS sleek Bombardier Challenger 605 climb into the clouds. The moment he’d heard Dahlia’s smooth, cultured voice that morning at the café, he’d been mesmerized. And those eyes. Large, expressive green eyes framed with finely arched dark brows. Even tonight, with her face devoid of makeup, she was lovely. Just thinking of her bow-shaped lips, his abdomen twitched with desire. Most women would have cried on his shoulder—not that he would have minded—but not her. She hadn’t asked his name and frankly, he was relieved.
He’d already stretched the truth as far as he was comfortable doing. Tonight was about helping her, not talking about himself, which is what usually happened once people discovered him or learned his name.
Yet he couldn’t get her—or the scent that surrounded h
