The Billionaire's Secret Read Online Free PDF Page A

separated.
    Her green eyes glowed, and inside them, he could see everything she was and would ever be. A piece of eternity seemed to hang in the air between them, and he traced her face.
    He brought her hand to his chest. Let her feel his heart beat as they watched each other. It was the most passionate kiss he’d ever experienced. He saw her swallow thickly and knew she felt as lost as he did.
    “Oh, Margie,” he finally whispered and buried his head in the curve of her neck, inhaling cinnamon and feeling the branches of the willow trees twirl around them almost as if in delight.
    She traced another heart against his chest, and this time he understood what it meant. It was her way of giving her heart to him.
    “That was the most beautiful kiss any woman could ever hope for,” she whispered.
    He realized she didn’t say “first” or “Paris.” This kiss had defied time and place.
    “It was the most amazing kiss anyone could ever hope for,” he said in a husky voice.
    She looked up at him, and the willows seemed to cradle them in a lover’s embrace.
    “How about we stay here for a little while?” he asked.
    “I’d love that.”
    And so they remained in an embrace as the wind wrapped the willows around them and the Seine rushed by, as powerful and special as this growing force between them.
     
    ***
     
    Margie felt like her entire body was filled with the unctuous ribbons of river water flowing through the city. She’d never had a more magical kiss, and she didn’t think it was Paris. It was Evan.
    Her head rested on his arm as they left the tiny inlet and strolled along the Seine toward Notre Dame. In the waning light, the spires of the famous cathedral looked more ominous, and coupled with the gargoyles, she found herself wondering if others before her had felt intimidated in its presence. Evan was telling her about the Île de la Cité, one of two natural islands on the Seine. It was where the original medieval city was founded and where the cathedral now towered over everything around it.
    “Do you want me to take a picture of you?” he asked her when they stood in front of the cathedral.
    She was tired, but the good kind of tired that came from being happy. “How about one of you and me?”
    Something flashed in his eyes, and then he smiled. “I like that idea.” He fished out his smart phone and positioned them with the cathedral in the background.
    “Say cinnamon rolls,” he suggested with a grin.
    He caught them both laughing, and after he pocketed the phone, she threw her arms around him. “Evan, I’m so happy.”
    His arms tightened around her. “I am too.” He kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go to dinner. You’re practically asleep on your feet.”
    “No, I’m not,” she protested, rubbing the back of her neck when he drew away from her. “But I could eat.”
    “You’re going to love where I’m taking you,” he said, reaching for her hand again.
    “I have a feeling I’m going to love everywhere you take me.”
    He looked down at her, and for a moment, she could feel the swell of passion between them.
    “So, as I was saying about Notre Dame…” he continued, clearing his throat.
    As they walked, he told her more about the history of the cathedral and the land where it was built, recounting even the pre-Christian times when the temple of the Egyptian goddess, Isis, had sat on the island. His command of history and facts astounded her. So she asked all of the questions that popped into her mind. About how deep the Seine was, and how many bridges there were throughout the city. He had answers for every one.
    When they reached a quaint street off the Quai de Montebello, he stopped in front of Le Reminet, a lovely bistro with a purple storefront. What struck her first was the profusion of candlelight she could see through the windows. When he opened the door for her, she wanted to sigh. Every table had its own candles and cut flowers. Coupled with the white tablecloths,