“Thank you for everything,” Tessa told Marlene, giving her a shy hug. “I’m sorry if I was a lot of trouble.”

“Dear, I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed working with a customer more than I did today,” assured Marlene. “You were no trouble at all. And Mr. Gregson is right - you are breathtaking. Now go do me proud and dazzle everyone you see.”

As Ian guided Tessa to the elevators, he wanted nothing more than to pull her in close for a long, deep kiss. But he was unfortunately all too aware of the curious pairs of eyes that followed them along, and he chose instead to merely keep a light hand on the small of her back. Once inside the elevator, which was occupied, much to his chagrin, he took hold of her hand as though they were teenagers, and received a bright smile in return from Tessa. Unable to resist her a moment longer, and not giving a damn who was looking, he pulled her against him for a soft, lingering kiss.

When he lifted his head, the elevator was stopping at the ground floor, everyone around them was smiling indulgently, and Tessa’s eyes were as shiny as the sapphire at her throat.

“Come along, darling,” he murmured, tucking her against his side. “Cinderella’s carriage awaits.”

The “carriage”, of course, was the black town car that Ian utilized primarily for business purposes, or if he thought he might have a bit more than usual to drink at an event. He introduced Tessa to Simon, noticing as he did so that the chauffeur displayed not the slightest surprise at meeting his very beautiful - and very young - companion for the evening. Ian offered up a silent thanks that the silver-haired Welshman was as discreet as he was capable - not that Ian was in the habit of engaging in amorous activities in the backseat of the vehicle by any means. He was a firm believer in discretion, and that there was a time and a place for everything. He was too old now, and had always been too straight-laced, to ever seriously consider having sex in a public place or even his car. The privacy of his own home, or the owner’s suite at one of the company’s hotels was a different matter entirely. Especially if the blonde beauty currently snuggled against his side was closeted up in the room with him.

He kept an arm about Tessa’s shoulders during the short drive to the restaurant. The top of her silky hair brushed up against his nose, and he inhaled deeply of the scent of her shampoo.

“Your hair smells like cinnamon and vanilla,” he murmured, then pressed a kiss to her temple. He took a long, shiny strand of her hair between his fingers. “And it feels like silk.”

Tessa nodded. “I love how soft and shiny it is right now. I’m such a klutz with a blow dryer that I could never get it to look like this. The stylist wanted to cut some of it, but we didn’t have enough time.”

“Good.” He nuzzled his face into her hair. “I like your hair long.”

She patted his arm reassuringly. “It was only going to be a couple of inches, just a trim. I like my hair long, too.”

Ian captured her mouth in a soft kiss. “Then I’ll take you back to the salon soon when there’s more time. Or to any other salon you’d prefer if this one wasn’t to your liking.”

“It was perfect,” she told him. “They treated me like a queen. Or a movie star. But I can’t let you keep doing things like that.”

“Why not? I told you earlier today that I intended to spoil you, and I meant it.”

Tessa looked uneasy. “I just don’t feel right letting you buy me all these things. I mean, I know I’ve worked for you for over two years but, well, we don’t really know each other.”

He tucked her glossy hair behind one ear. “I know that, Tessa,” he said gently. “And I certainly don’t want to overwhelm you or make you feel uncomfortable. I think perhaps I’ve just wanted for so long now to be with you and take care of you that I’m probably coming on a bit too strong. We’ll take this as slowly as you want to, all right, love?”

She nodded, then gave him an impish little grin. “Well, not too slowly.”

Ian laughed and hugged her close. “I’ll let you call the shots then, shall I? Now, you haven’t asked me where we’re having dinner.”

Tessa shrugged. “Anyplace you choose is fine with me. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with most of the restaurants in San Francisco, just the few little places in my neighborhood. And I’m guessing we aren’t going to Zen Sushi or El Toro Taqueria.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Your guess would be correct. I think we’d both be a bit overdressed for either of those fine establishments. No, this evening we’re dining at Le Mistral. Have you heard of it?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Is it French?”

He picked up her hand and kissed it. “Oui, mademoiselle. It’s very French and very romantic. And best of all, they have private dining rooms so that you and I can, ah, get to know each other.”

Tessa had a wistful look on her face. “You speak French, don’t you? So does Julia. I heard her talking to Henri again the last time she was in the office.”

“Yes, though my French is not quite as good as Julia’s. I also speak Italian and Spanish and some German and Portuguese.”

She used her thumb to trace a little pattern over their clasped hands. “You’re so smart and accomplished. I love hearing you talk at meetings. Not that I always understand what’s being discussed, but I just like the sound of your voice.”

Grateful for the unquestionable discretion of his chauffeur, Ian hauled her against him and gave her a deep, searing kiss, her softly spoken words far more arousing than he could properly express. At the sound of her low but audible moan, he reluctantly lifted his head, only to whisper in a husky tone, “I hope you’ll like hearing all the things I plan on saying to you when we’re alone. And I’ll be sure to say them in English so that you understand every single word.”

He felt her quiver in arousal against him, and knew that if he slid his hand inside her coat he would find the hardened peak of her nipple.

“It’s okay,” she whispered back. “Even if I can’t really understand you, I think hearing you speak French or Italian would be incredibly romantic. And sexy.”

Ian groaned. “I fear that when I take you to my bed I’m going to forget my own damned name, much less how to say it in French.”