“You’re the perfect tour guide, monsieur.” “Thank you,” he replied, placing a finger beneath her chin, and tilting her face to his to seal her mouth with a kiss. When he broke away, she kept her eyes closed and her lips pursed. He chuckled and urged her to open her eyes. “Take in the sights, bella. We’re almost there.” “Your home?” “Yes,” he replied. “Are you up for an afternoon café and one of Antoine’s croissants?” “Oui.” Her mouth watered in agreement. She had a definite soft spot for croissants. When Jean-Luc drove onto the quaint island in the middle of the river, it was like stepping into a fairy tale. She didn’t speak again until they were seated at the picturesque café, looking directly at the elaborate elegance of the Notre Dame. “We’re so close, I can practically feel the curves of the arches and the details of the sculptures,” Kat breathed, holding out her hand and pretending to trace a finger down the stunning Gothic lines of the cathedral.
