...The club where Raoul took Sean possessed an old-world elegance, from the parquet tiles in the entrance hall, to the crystal chandeliers and thick carpets in the rooms, right down to the black-suited, white-gloved staff who flitted around like shadows, ready to provide, and sometimes even anticipate, each member’s every need and desire. It reminded Sean of an exclusive men’s club he’d gone to in New York in the good old days with one of his clients. That club was definitely not gay, but the moment one of the waiters showed them into an opulent private room that looked like an avant-garde designer’s idea of what constituted the perfect seduction pad, he knew this one was. Low couches strewn with a multitude of brilliantly colored silk cushions, a pair of matching silk bathrobes draped over one of the arms, fresh flowers, a table set for two, and a door on the far side that had been left open just a crack to reveal a bathroom—it couldn’t be anything else.

While Raoul told the waiter what to bring in the way of drinks and appetizers, Sean looked around the room and felt a momentary surge of panic. He was here in Paris on company business, not for his own personal pleasure. If Max found ever found out… He knew that wasn’t likely and it was way too late for him to back out now, even though he should have guessed the kind of place Raoul was bringing him to. He was still angry about cousin Bobby, and he should have stuck with his anger and said no back in Raoul’s office when he had the chance. Maybe suggested they meet again later when the grandmother was available. Or, if lunch was inevitable, keep it safe and impersonal with a sandwich at a bar.

He’d known the moment they shook hands at the hotel what effect Raoul had on him. He wanted Raoul, and he knew only too well the feeling was mutual. If he’d had any doubts they disappeared the moment he’d thoughtlessly touched Raoul’s hand back in the office. It had been like sticking his finger in an electrical outlet. And, that being the case, given the right circumstances, such as a place like this, keeping a clear head would be difficult if not impossible.

As for using willpower to deflect any moves Raoul might make, well good luck with that! Raoul had been checking him out, giving him the eye the moment they sat down in his office. Despite his anger and the seriousness of what Bobby had done, Sean knew he was guilty of a little checking out himself. He would have needed to be blind not to notice Raoul’s erection, and have ice water in his veins not to be affected by it. Everything about Raoul excited and intrigued him, and from the word go, he’d hoped that initial attraction could be a prelude to something else. But now?

Yes, he wanted Raoul. Although whether or not it was a good idea…

He tried to shift focus by concentrating on Raoul and the waiter, but their conversation was too rapid for him to catch even one word in ten. He turned his attention to the vase of flowers, stroking his forefinger down the petal of a rose and…he closed his eyes for an instant, imagining it was Raoul’s skin.

Damn! Damn! Damn! His cock had started to ache like a bad tooth. If only…if only he could just get his mind off Raoul and back to business. Concentrate on getting his hands on that fucking cross, and concentrate on hoping Bobby spent the rest of eternity burning in hell he’d be fine. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out very slowly. Trouble was business and Bobby were growing less and less important by the second. He’d never wanted anyone this badly before and as for telling Raoul no... He couldn’t imagine either of them wasting much time in even trying to deny what was happening between them once the waiter left and the door was closed.

“I’m going to have a small filet for my entrée,” Raoul announced. “How about you?”

Sean could have cared less about food, but going through the motions was all part of this particular game. And he knew, despite the way he felt right now, the urgency and strength of his feelings, the way his mind could brush aside everything else, and the overwhelming conviction he had to have Raoul no matter what, a game was all it was—the instant attraction, the discreet flirting, the moment of truth, and then, their needs satisfied, that would be the end of it. A special time, nonetheless, that would take away a little of the hurt inflicted by Bobby and make this first trip to Paris unforgettable. “Sounds good. Medium rare, if I may. And a plain green salad?”