Passion Sails at Sea (Diary of a Free Woman) (8 page)

Gwen turned to the young lady. “Well, lucky you. Are you enjoying your trip?”

“Yeah, I love Paris.” With a wide grin, the teen tucked her long, dark hair behind her ears. The girl’s bright and innocent smile reminded Gwen of her youngest, Kristy.

“Did you plan where to go and what to see inside the Louvre?” Carol asked. “I’ve read so many reviews that recommend preparing. I guess the Mona Lisa and several other works of art attract large crowds.”

“I’d heard about the crowds, too,” Gwen said. “But I’m going to start at the top and work my way down. It’s impossible to see everything.”

“You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. We’re spending the day here.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m okay on my own.”

The line in front of Carol started moving. “If you change your mind and see us—”

Before she’d finished, Jimmy had tapped his wife’s shoulder. “The line’s moving, Carol.”

“Enjoy the rest of your stay,” Gwen said.

Carol reached for her granddaughter’s arm. “Thank you. It was nice talking to you.”

Gwen followed the trio as they slowly walked toward the entrance to the Louvre. While they chatted about their excitement to explore the museum, Gwen took a glance behind her. The line had tripled in size. Visitors were a mixture of young and old from various nationalities. Although the crowd appeared large, she doubted she’d have difficulty seeing the sights inside the massive structure. As Carol had pointed out, the Mona Lisa and other top attractions would gather the most attention. People would stop at them first. Not Gwen. Since she wanted to check out as much as she could, she decided to head for the upper floor first. Her goal was to peruse as many exhibit rooms as she could and savor the beauty of all the pieces of art. Then, by the end of the day, perhaps the mass around the main artworks wouldn’t be as large. She hoped.

A few feet from the door, Gwen fished a ticket from her purse. She held it patiently as she drew near the entrance.

Inside, security guards stood near metal detectors and machines several feet away. Gwen waited as a uniformed employee scanned tickets. Visitors without passes went to another line while others who’d had their passes checked continued to the machines. Men emptied their pockets and placed the contents in bowls. Women laid their purses on the conveyor belt. Each person walked through the big x-ray scanner then collected their belongings. Gwen followed the herd. After she’d passed the screening, she gathered her bag and headed for the information desk.

Gwen collected a map from the counter and stood out of the way to review the document. Holding the pamphlet open, she surveyed the floor plans and compared them with her current surroundings. The escalators were close by as were a set of stairs. Guests were walking in clusters toward the escalators while others proceeded to the halls leading to the main part of the museum. To make the best of her time, Gwen decided to take the route less traveled. She folded the brochure and headed for a staircase.

Voices and claps of shoes remained the predominant sounds as Gwen strode away from the masses. A few people walked ahead of her, including a couple carrying backpacks. The museum appeared solid, cold, filled with history and clean. She almost found it difficult to believe she was inside such a magnificent building with so many valuables. Excitement stirred within her. She’d made it to the Louvre. What a dream come true.

She drew closer to the staircase and noticed a man dressed in a uniform. His attire resembled those of the ticket takers who stood by the entrance. He watched each person pass. When Gwen reached the employee, she smiled and he gave a nod.

Her shoes clacked on each marble step as she ascended to the top. She held her purse in one hand and the map in the other. Looking up, the wide staircase reminded her of the fancy ones she’d seen in movies but without the carpet and hard wood flooring. She reached the top, then turned the corner and climbed another flight to reach the second level. Although she was healthy and in shape, she’d needed a minute to catch her breath after the first long staircase.

Nearing the end of the stairs, she lowered her head and stuffed the map in a side compartment of her bag where she could access it easily. After the last step, she turned the corner and stayed close to the rail. Two seconds later her right shoulder bumped into a solid object. She came to a quick halt and lifted her gaze.

“Oh, my. I’m so sorry,” Gwen said immediately.

She widened her eyes as she acknowledged the handsome man standing in front of her. He had to be one of the pieces of art. He was slightly taller than her and had an average build. His short black locks held waves and he had a thin layer of hair covering the lower half of his face. Dressed in a nice suit, he had a professional and prestigious persona. His blue eyes intrigued her and she couldn’t look away. It was as if they were inviting her to peer deeper into them, move closer and press her body next to his. He was pure man, handsome and definitely fuck-me quality. Her pulse accelerated as he spoke in French. The words made no sense since she didn’t know the language, but from the gentleness of his tone, she suspected he wasn’t too angry about her colliding with him.

“I apologize. I should’ve been watching where I was going.” She took a step back.

He tilted his head slightly and spoke again in the foreign language. The softness of his voice soothed her sudden anxiety from running into him. When he curled his lips into a smile, her body warmed. Dear lord, she was getting hornier by the second as she stared at him.

“I don’t speak French. I’m sorry for hitting you. Please forgive me.”

With a smile, Gwen walked away from the sexy stranger and headed up the next flight of stairs. She hurried to the top, her shoes clapping on each step.

The image of him remained in her mind and kept her warm. As she debated if she should turn around to follow the Frenchman, she slid her sweater off her arms. Could she even look at old pieces of art now that she had a living gorgeous dark-eyed man in her thoughts? She doubted the artwork would provide the same kind of tingly and rousing sensation she’d felt in his presence. Yet, men would come and go. The world had plenty of fine specimens to fulfill her carnal needs. She had one opportunity to visit the Louvre and it was here and now. She decided to proceed with her exploration of the museum instead of pursuing the man.

Reaching the floor, she then paused to survey her surroundings. Long halls on each side of her contained pieces of art. She tied her light sweater around her waist then withdrew the map from her purse. After a quick review, she turned and headed in the direction that would take her deep into the museum.

Paintings in various sized frames decorated both walls. Immediately Gwen slowed her pace and moved closer to the left side. The centuries-old artwork was exquisite with vibrant colors. The artist’s precise attention amazed Gwen. She examined one picture after another and quickly scanned the information cards near the art. Eventually, she found herself in a room full of more canvases. She briefly checked out the self-portraits and those with food items then spent more time studying landscape drawings.

From one gallery, she entered the next and continued on her journey. When she was gazing at a Baroque painting with a half-naked woman as the focal point, she heard the soft creak of the floor somewhere in the distance. She paid no attention to the others in the room and kept her focus on the artwork.

“Beautiful,” said a deep, soft voice.

It was one Gwen had heard before. The word was in English, but the accent was clearly French.

Gwen swallowed and gripped the handle of her purse tighter as she tried to ignore the excitement stirring within her. “Yes. Beautiful.”

Hearing gentle taps on the floor behind her, she twisted and looked over her shoulder. The sexy stranger she’d bumped into near the stairs came to a stop next to her. He tilted his head as if he were staring at her legs. Slowly, he lifted his gaze. “Exquisite.”

Blood rushed to her face. Her heart thumped faster. Was he referring to her or the picture?

He shifted his attention from her to the painting. “Her skin is fairer than yours and breasts are smaller.” He glanced at Gwen’s chest. “Yes, much. Yours are better.”

Holy hell
, Mr Sexy had observed her breasts and complimented them. Moisture seeped between her legs and dampened her panties. Her temperature skyrocketed. She fanned herself with the map.

“You’re American, yes?” he asked.

“I am, yes. I don’t speak French.”

He smiled and gestured to shake her hand. “Pierre Devaux.”

Gwen quickly shoved the map in her bag then accepted his greeting. “Gwenevere Stratten. You may call me Gwen.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” he said.

Gwen’s hormones were on fire. His eyes, his voice and that damn sexy accent were too much for her. Merely being around him could cause her to have an orgasm.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Gwen said and smiled.

He let go of her hand. “Is this your first visit to Paris?”

“Yes. I’m on vacation here for a few days then I leave for Italy.”

“And your first trip to the Louvre?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Would you like a personal guide? I’ve visited many times and know my way around here.”

“Really?”

He smiled and offered his hand. “I would be honored to escort such a beautiful woman around the Louvre.”

Gwen couldn’t refuse the opportunity to get to know Pierre more. Her body would hate her if she did. She placed her hand in his.

He closed his fingers around hers and guided her away from the painting. “I hope you don’t mind, but I followed you from the stairs.”

She walked slowly next to him. “I’m really sorry for—”

“Please”—he held up his free hand—“no more apologies. Perhaps our meeting was fate.”

Fate? Gwen didn’t believe in such a thing. She did believe in opportunities and when they revealed themselves, they were worth taking. Meeting Phillip on the plane and joining the mile high club was a prime example.

“Do you live and work here in Paris?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m in the Entertainment business.” He stopped and turned to the wall. “And while I admire the work of the artists who created all these masterpieces, they never portray bodies accurately. Women have small breasts and men have small penises. Here is a perfect example.”

Gwen pressed her lips together to prevent the laughter from bursting free. Once she gained control of her humorous side, she said, “A large cock might take the focus off the rest of the picture.”

“Yes, but it would reflect realism and how the man truly feels.” Pierre gently squeezed her hand.

“Maybe the artist thought it would offend others of his era.” Gwen shrugged.

“A man should be proud of his manhood when he’s excited by a woman.” He met her gaze. “I am.”

Gwen realized her mouth was hanging open and shut it. Did he confess he had a hard-on? She glanced down. Unfortunately, his dark pants hid any sign of an erection.

“Would you prefer me to have a small penis if I were in this picture? Would you not rather see the real thing?”

Her face felt as if it were on fire. “I’d much rather see the true shape.”

He moved closer to her. “You wouldn’t be disappointed.”

“I believe that.” She stared into his blue eyes while her panties grew wetter. The man had sex appeal she couldn’t resist.

He lifted his free hand and traced his fingers down her arm. A chill raced through her, hardening her nipples and sending erotic tingles to her apex.

“You are a work of beauty. Dare I say I would enjoy marveling at your body? I would enjoy…”

He turned his head without finishing his sentence. Three ladies stood several feet away, whispering and watching Gwen and Pierre. They all had dark hair, yet two were younger. The oldest was fishing inside her purse as if she were searching for something.

Pierre sighed. “I must go.” He dug inside his inner jacket.

“Are your escorting services over?” Gwen looked at the women, then Pierre. Confusion gnawed at her.

“For now. But I will return. I promise.” He handed a small business card to Gwen.

She took the small paper and glanced at it. To her surprise, she found the word ‘actor’ under his name.

“You’re an actor?” she asked.

“Yes. Do you have a number?”

Gwen shoved her hand into her bag and snatched a pen. The women’s cackling drew the attention of another young couple in the room. Realizing she had little time, she used the back of the card Pierre had given her and wrote her cell phone number on it. If the man truly wanted to marvel at her body, he’d contact her.

“Here.” She returned the paper to him. “I’d like you to finish that sentence sometime.”

The thumps of shoes moving closer stole their gazes. The three women were walking toward them.

Pierre bent to kiss her cheek, then her ear. “I will. Don’t leave.”

He walked away before she could draw in another breath.

The three women stopped and watched as Pierre disappeared from the gallery. Their bright smiles faded and the two younger ladies turned to the oldest.

Gwen sighed heavily. She wished Pierre could’ve stayed with her longer. He seemed nice. Although she knew nothing about him other than he was an actor, she couldn’t resist his appeal. She had a few more nights in Paris. Why not enjoy at least one with a hot and irresistible man? Pierre fit the description perfectly.

The three females walked toward Gwen. They were dressed nicely, in skirts and blouses, not the type to cause trouble. Their eyes were wide with curiosity as they approached.

“I’m sorry but I don’t speak French,” Gwen said as they came to a stop.

The older lady pointed to the door. “Are you a friend of his?” she asked in English.

Gwen shook her head. “No. I just met him. He told me his name, but I didn’t get to know him.”

The woman smiled. “He’s a big actor. TV. Movies. Big. We love him. My daughters and I.”

“He’s very popular in Paris?” Gwen asked rather than said with her eyebrows raised.

She waved her hand in the air. “All over France. Was he nice?”