Excerpt from The Champagne Crush by Caroline O’Connell,
courtesy of SparkPress, an imprint of The Stable Book Group.
Sightseeing in Paris
(after work trip to Champagne)
As they walked out, Chris asked, “What’s on the agenda for this afternoon?”
Catherine’s eyes lit up. “Shopping, of course, though I’m on a tight budget. Mind if we stop at my favorite lingerie boutique?”
Chris draped his arm around her shoulders. “Far from it. Consider it my duty to assist in your choices—after you’ve modeled the contenders.”
“Sounds like an athletic event,” she said.
“Might very well be after you’re done.” Chris’s arm around her tightened as they found a nearby cab.
“What’s so special about this place?” he asked during their ride over to the Right Bank.
“Family tradition. My French grandma used to take me there. Herminie Cadolle is credited with inventing the bra in the late 1800s. She cut a corset in half and voilà .” Catherine made a cutting gesture across her chest. “Every garment was handmade, called sur mesure, to fit each woman’s body. Now much of their lingerie is ready to wear, prêt à porter.”
“Don’t they sell stuff like this in New York?”
She shook her head. “Not really. Cadolle is still run by Herminie’s descendants—same high standards, top silk and black French lace, quality craftsmanship.”
Ten minutes later, they walked into the boutique on Rue Cambon. A young saleslady welcomed them and directed Chris to a sitting area. Catherine perused ensembles hanging artfully on a partition while Chris was served coffee. Then the ladies got to work.
Catherine had a gift card from her French grandma; she hoped the amount would cover a matching bra and panty set and a silk cami. In her modeling days, she and Vanessa had worn camisoles as an undergarment for an extra layer to stay warm or as a sexy top under a fitted suit jacket, buttoned up partway with the lace peeking out.
The saleslady understood exactly what Catherine preferred and they had a good selection in Catherine’s small size. Catherine playfully dangled a few lacy nothings in front of Chris on her way to the dressing room. She’d never been to a lingerie store with a man waiting nearby. She found it incredibly sexy. As she tried on each delicate bra and panties set, she envisioned modeling them for him.
Catherine knew she was playing with fire and had some trepidation. Chris had made his intentions crystal clear. No holds barred while they were in Paris. After the trip, they’d go back to their agreement to wait until the launch.
She was intensely attracted to him. Her quandary: She had difficulty letting her guard down when it came to intimacy. She might freeze up. That could nix this love affair before it started. She liked him so much she was willing to take the gamble.
There’s something to this French stuff, Chris mused, while waiting on a velvet settee with a cup of strong coffee. The French didn’t hide their appreciation for sexy lingerie. He’d passed more boutiques displaying lacy bras and barely-there undies on the streets of Paris than in any other city. Of course, the woman who’d captured his interest was all in on this enticing game.
In a dressing room nearby, she was in the process of selecting an ensemble that he hoped to get her to model for him in private, post haste. Fortunately, their hotel was a few blocks away.
Catherine emerged with her purchases in a decorative gold bag and looked pleased with the results. This woman really does like to shop.
They got back to the hotel in record time. Chris suggested a stop at the Costes bar for a late-afternoon cocktail. He managed to find a dark corner where they could sit side by side in a secluded leather booth with no distractions. After ordering the house specialty—a pitcher of Caipirinha, sugar cane, liquor, and lime—Chris reached for Catherine’s hand.
I’m head over heels for this woman. He hoped she felt the same and it wasn’t a dalliance on her part.
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