The Perfect Man Read online

“Me, too.” If he was related to the Eldridge family Astrid knew, Melanie wouldn’t have been likely to meet him under any circumstances, unless she was with Astrid, who moved in those circles. “Are you from Dallas?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then you might know a friend of mine, Astrid Lindberg.”

  “Astrid Lindberg?” He chuckled. “I haven’t seen her in a coon’s age. We were at the same equestrian camp one summer, although she was with the younger kids. Some old horse tried to run off with her and I was handy. I was worried she’d swear off riding, but she didn’t.”

  “She sure didn’t.” Melanie noticed that although Drew had come to Astrid’s rescue, he downplayed his role by saying he was handy. “She’s a large-animal vet now.”

  “Is she? That’s great.”

  “So are you here on business?” Melanie imagined multinational deals involving millions. From what she could recall, the Eldridge family was loaded.

  “Some business. Some pleasure.”

  “Ah.” So the multinational deal-making was followed by glittering parties and sophisticated French women who never wore gym shoes with their regular clothes. Yet he’d interrupted all that to help a stranger from home. “Listen, I really appreciate all you’ve done. I’m sure I’ve screwed up your morning, and you’re too polite to say so.”

  “Nope. It’s a sunny day and I’d decided to—” A soft chime interrupted whatever he’d been about to say. “Excuse me.” Taking out his phone, he glanced at the readout. “I should take this.” He stood and walked a few feet away.

  Hanging out with such a good-looking guy was a heady experience that kept her adrenaline pumping, so she was relieved for a few moments alone to gather her thoughts. If not for her friendship with Astrid, she might have been intimidated by someone like Drew Eldridge. As it was, she was simply grateful. And a little turned on, which served as a great antidote to worrying about losing her stuff.

  Having Drew show up was a stroke of luck. Someone with his wealth would have an international calling plan. If she didn’t pay him back until she got home, he probably wouldn’t care. Once he was off the phone, she would ask to make a call. Val had a key to her apartment and could retrieve her credit card information.

  The police arrived right after Drew ended his call, so she didn’t have a chance to borrow the phone. Thank God Drew was there to guide her through the process, though. After the officers left, she glanced up at him. “Do you think they’ll recover my backpack?”

  “There’s always a chance.”

  “But not a very good one, right?”

  “I won’t lie to you, Melanie. They may find your backpack, although I figure it’s in a Dumpster by now. But the contents . . .” He shrugged. “Not likely.”

  “Speaking of those contents, could I please borrow your phone to call my friend Valerie back home? She can access my credit card info so I can cancel my cards.”

  “Yes, ma’am, you sure can. Tell you what. I’ll give you a lift to your hotel so you can doctor those hands. You can call your friend on the way there.”

  “You have a car?”

  “I do.”

  Silly of her to think he’d be on foot, like she was. “You know, that’s a lovely offer, but my hotel isn’t very far away.” That wasn’t quite true. She’d walked at least ten blocks to get here. “I’ll just borrow your phone for a minute. I’ve taken up too much of your valuable time already.”

  “Sorry. But my mama raised me better than that. You’ve suffered a shock, and I intend to see you safely back to your hotel.”

  Oh, wow. He not only looked like a god, he knew the right things to say that would make a girl melt into a puddle. She’d be a fool to resist a display of gentlemanly manners by a heroic figure like Drew, especially when she’d just been mugged by two guys from the shallow end of the gene pool. “Thank you. That would be wonderful. Where are you parked?”

  “In a garage.” He pulled out his phone, punched a speed dial number, and said something in French. Then he tucked the phone away again. “Henri’s on his way.”

  “Henri?”

  “My driver.”

  “Oh.” Of course he’d have a driver on call. She’d have to remember all the details of this adventure to tell Astrid and Val over drinks next week. “Are you here for long?”

  “Two weeks. How about you?”

  “Five days.”

  “That’s all? Five days will go by like lightning.”

  “I know, but this was supposed to be a girls’ trip with my two friends, and that’s all the time we felt we could manage for now.”

  “And they didn’t come, after all.”

  “No.”

  He studied her. “I admire your gumption, Melanie Shaw.”

  She basked in the warmth of that gaze. She even imagined that she saw interest there, but she didn’t know him well enough to tell for sure. He might give everyone that same warm glance.

  In truth, she did feel proud of herself, even if she had managed to get her backpack stolen within two hours of landing. “Thank you.”

  “And there’s Henri.” Drew gestured toward a black Mercedes sedan that had pulled up to the curb. Immediately a uniformed driver hopped out and opened the back door.

  “Where was he, around the corner?”

  “More or less. Hop in.”

  She slid onto the soft leather and wondered if Henri had ever chauffeured a woman wearing white gym shoes. Probably not. She buckled her seat belt.

  Drew climbed in beside her and Henri closed the door. Inside the car, Melanie became more aware of the scent of Drew’s aftershave. She didn’t recognize the spicy aroma, but then again, she didn’t hang out with rich guys. Plus he might have bought it here.

  Drew glanced at her. “Where to?”

  She gave him the name of the hotel.

  “Never heard of it, but Henri probably knows.” He leaned forward and spoke to his driver in French. The chauffeur nodded, and Drew settled back against the seat. “He’ll get us there.” Reaching inside his jacket, he took out his phone and handed it to her before buckling his seat belt.

  “Thank you.” She dialed Val’s cell and got her voice mail. Damn it. She didn’t want to leave a message that would worry Val. So she left a cheery greeting saying that she’d arrived and was having a great time. Then she disconnected and sighed.

  “Not available?”

  “Unfortunately not.”

  “I’ll be happy to go online and look up the number for the credit card company if you want to go that route. They should be able to wire you some money to tide you over, too.”

  “Oh.” She blinked. “Right. I’ll need money until the new card gets here. I must be jet-lagged, because I didn’t think of going online for the number. If you’ll look it up, that would be awesome.”

  The Mercedes drew alongside the curb in front of her hotel and Drew peered out the window. “Is this the place?”

  “Yes. If you wouldn’t mind getting that number for me, I’ll make the call and then you can be on your way.”

  He glanced over at her. “Melanie, you can’t stay here.”

  “It’ll be fine. I gave them my credit card number earlier, and although that card will be canceled, I can probably get a new one by the time I check out.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about that. I don’t like the looks of this place.” He studied the hotel again before turning his blue gaze on her. “You need to stay somewhere else.”

  Her chin lifted. “This is what I can afford. Besides, I don’t have a new credit card yet, so I can’t book a different hotel. I have to stay here.”

  “Have you inspected the room?”

  “No, but it doesn’t matter. I can deal with whatever. It won’t be the first lumpy mattress I’ve slept on.”

  “What about bedbugs?”

  “You
think they have bedbugs?” Those grossed her out. For some reason she hadn’t anticipated bedbugs in the City of Light.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “If they do, I’ll demand a different room. As I said, this place fits my budget.”

  “I understand that, but there’s a better solution.”

  “Like what?”

  “My town house.”

  She stared at him, blindsided by the suggestion. “But . . . I thought you were in a hotel.”

  “Nope. I have a house here with several bedrooms, and you’re welcome to one of them.”

  Her pulse kicked up. “My goodness, that’s way too much of a favor.” And she wondered if he wanted something in return. Thinking of what that might be made her pulse race even faster.

  “Not the way I see it. You need a room and I have one available.” He met her gaze. “And to clarify, this is not an indecent proposal.”

  Dear God, could he read her mind? Heat rose in her cheeks. “I know it’s not.”

  “Do you? Because you were looking sort of wary.”

  “I didn’t mean to.” She had to get a grip. This was a guy who didn’t have to drag women in off the street. She flattered herself if she thought he was interested in her. “I just don’t think it’s right for me to accept your generous hospitality.”

  “It’s not all that generous. The rooms are sitting there empty. Maybe you’ll use a little water and electricity, but that’s it. No big deal.”

  She glanced over at the hotel with its peeling paint and dirty windows. She shouldn’t accept his offer, but damn, she wanted to. He might be a stranger, but he didn’t feel like one. First chance she got, though, she’d call Astrid and confirm what Melanie felt in her gut, that Drew could be trusted.

  Growing up on a ranch with salt-of-the-earth parents, Melanie had been taught not to take advantage of people, but she’d also been told never to look a gift horse in the mouth. This was a gift horse if she’d ever seen one.

  She took a deep breath. “All right. And thank you.”

  Two

  “You’re more than welcome.” The tension eased from Drew’s shoulders. He couldn’t leave her here, but he couldn’t exactly kidnap her to keep her out of that fleabag hotel, either.

  She had no idea how vulnerable she looked with her big gray eyes and freckle-faced innocence. In her red sweatshirt, with any makeup worn off during the flight, she seemed like a teenager, even though he guessed her age to be mid-twenties. No wonder the bastards had targeted her. He had the urge to wrap her in his arms, stroke her glossy brown hair, and protect her from every danger, both real and imagined.

  But any woman who’d climbed on a plane by herself for her first trip to Paris wouldn’t appreciate an overprotective attitude. He’d keep that in mind. Somehow he had to watch out for her in a way that wouldn’t get her back up.

  “I’ll fetch my suitcase.” She reached for the door handle.

  “Might as well let Henri get it.” He deliberately made it sound like a casual suggestion.

  “But I can do it. Oh, wait.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “My claim check was in my backpack.”

  “Then why not let Henri handle it? He’s good at these things.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, and then closed it again. “Okay.”

  Drew leaned forward and spoke to his chauffeur in French. He hoped Melanie didn’t understand the language well enough to know that he’d told Henri to bribe the desk clerk if there was any question about the missing claim check. Because Melanie had yet to utter a word in French, Drew thought he was safe on that score.

  The chauffeur exited the car and headed toward the hotel lobby with the brisk stride of a man who would not be denied. Drew smiled. Henri lived for this kind of drama.

  “He probably will have better luck than I would.” Melanie watched Henri walk into the hotel. “He looks very official.”

  “Don’t think he doesn’t realize that. He plays it to the hilt.” He pulled out his cell. “What’s your credit card company?” When she gave him the name, he looked up the international contact number and keyed it in before handing her the phone.

  “Thank you.” She settled back in her seat and put the phone to her ear. Moments into the conversation, her body visibly relaxed and her tone was no longer anxious.

  He enjoyed watching the transformation and was glad he could be part of putting her dream vacation back on track. From that first glimpse of her in front of Notre Dame, he’d instinctively known how much this trip meant to her. Unlike most of the women in his circle, she’d had to scrimp and save to get over here. He’d never had to scrimp in his life, and he was fascinated by how much that raised the stakes for her.

  Her resilience in the face of potential disaster impressed him, too. She had character, and he responded to that almost as much as he responded to her curvy figure and full pink mouth. He wanted her, but he’d meant what he’d said. Inviting her to his town house wasn’t a proposition.

  Still holding the phone, she glanced over at him. “I don’t know the address,” she said to the representative, “but I have someone here who can give it to you.” She gave Drew the phone. “They need an address for shipping the new credit card.”

  “You bet.” He provided the necessary information and handed the phone back so she could complete the call, which didn’t take long.

  After disconnecting, she returned the phone. “Thank you. They’re wiring money to a Western Union office near your town house.” She sighed happily. “I feel so much better.”

  “Good.”

  “So where is your town house? I don’t recognize street names yet.”

  “It’s on the Île de la Cité, about three blocks from Notre Dame.”

  Her eyes widened. “Wow. Prime real estate.”

  “I like being in the heart of the city.” He’d paid a ridiculous amount of money for the place, but he was buying a piece of history, and that usually cost more.

  “So you weren’t far from home when you saw me this morning.”

  “No. I had tickets for the Louvre, so I’d decided to walk down there for the exercise and get my fine art fix.”

  “The Louvre.” Her expression grew dreamy. “I can hardly wait to see it.”

  “Maybe we could go later. I—” His phone chimed again. “Excuse me.” He checked the readout. Not critical. They could leave a voice mail.

  “I’m sure you’re busy.”

  “Everyone’s busy these days.” Especially him. As the only son of Stephen Eldridge, he’d felt obligated to succeed, and in a big way, too. He hadn’t wanted to ride on his father’s coattails. At thirty-two, he was a billionaire in his own right. He’d gotten there by taking risks, and for the most part, they’d paid off handsomely. But wealth without social responsibility was, in his estimation, immoral. So he’d devoted himself to several causes.

  The one currently in the works was especially dear to his heart—aid to orphans in war-torn areas of the world. Although he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he well knew many children hadn’t been so lucky. So he was working on organizing a dinner featuring many A-list performers, which would bring in a hefty amount if all the stars arrived.

  But Drew had learned that working with famous people meant dealing with a few flakes. His staff could put the event together, but only his personal attention would get the famous faces he needed to actually show up.

  Yet he was glad to do it . . . most of the time. This morning, though, he longed to give his attention to a certain tourist from Dallas. He hadn’t been a superhero and successfully recovered her backpack, but he had the resources to make up for her crummy introduction to the city and he intended to use them.

  After listening to his voice mail, he texted a reply. By that time, Henri was back with Melanie’s plain black rolling bag. Her presence in his town h
ouse was closer to becoming a reality, and that stirred his blood.

  He liked the fact that she’d resisted his invitation to stay there. Despite knowing that he was a member of the wealthy Eldridge family and that he’d met her friend Astrid, she hadn’t leaped at the opportunity to stay under his roof. He’d known several women who, given similar circumstances, would have moved heaven and earth for such an invitation.

  A man in his position couldn’t afford to be naïve. Gold diggers were real and they circled him constantly. Melanie, however, didn’t seem to give a damn. She might even consider it a point of honor not to care whether he was King Midas.

  With a loud thump that jiggled the car, Henri loaded the suitcase in the trunk.

  Drew looked over at Melanie. “What do you have in there, rocks?”

  She laughed. “Almost as bad. Books. I’ve been collecting books on Paris ever since my friends and I booked the trip. I brought them all. When I packed, I had to sacrifice clothes for books, so I don’t have a lot with me.” She stuck out her foot. “These are my only shoes.”

  “They’re practical.”

  “Yes, but as you pointed out, they label me. I don’t look French.”

  “Do you want to?” He thought she looked perfectly fine as she was.

  She seemed to consider that. “I guess not.”

  He liked that answer. In his mind, people should be who they were instead of pretending to be someone they weren’t.

  Henri climbed into the driver’s seat. “C’est bien?”

  Belatedly Drew remembered her scraped hands. “Do you want the Neosporin out of your suitcase before we take off?”

  “That’s okay. My hands don’t sting anymore. I can get it later.”

  “Then we’re off.” Drew nodded to his driver. As the car pulled away from the curb, he blew out a breath. Mission accomplished. He’d succeeded in scooping up his lady fair and carrying her out of harm’s way. Of course, part of him realized that Melanie would have probably spent her nights at that hotel without encountering a problem. But Drew wasn’t dealing in logic right now.

  His need to get her away from that depressing hotel with its peeling paint and cracked cement steps had been a visceral thing not to be explained. She was alone in the city, and he’d appointed himself as her watchdog. He had the urge to surround her with a fence labeled KEEP OFF. An electrified fence would be even better.