She issued a tinkling laugh. “My friend said as much.”
He lowered his glass to the table. “Who is your friend again?”
She met his stare. “If I tell you, I believe it will lower my chances of getting you to follow me to my bed.”
Lars sat back in his chair, studying the woman. “Bold. I’d expect nothing less from a redhead wearing that dress. What makes you think I still won’t follow you to bed despite our mutual friend?”
She leaned forward, giving him another glimpse of her ample breasts. “Because once I tell you, I know you’ll get up and leave the party. Then I’ll be stuck here with all the bores.” She cast a look around.
Too many times to count, Lars had acquired intelligence in just this manner. A chance meeting, a person slipping in and out of his life. Never one this beautiful, but he knew one of theirs when he saw her.
“You’re acquainted with Madeline.”
She nodded but perfected a small pout. “Now you will ask me what I have come to tell you and I won’t even get to peel that tuxedo jacket off your broad shoulders.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “I’m ready to hear whatever you have to say.”
“Let’s find somewhere more comfortable to chat.” She tossed him a come-hither look and stood. He watched her drift through the crowd for a moment, admiring the long lines of her back and the curve of her ass sashaying away from him.
When he located her again, she sat in the corner of a very cozy loveseat. He sank to the cushion, crowding her. At once, she raised a hand to his jaw and scuffed her fingertips along his five o’clock shadow.
“I love a rugged man.”
He leaned in and captured her earlobe with his teeth. “Tell me what you know.”
She sucked in a gasp and turned her lips into his. Her murmur brushed across his lips. “Pierre Moreau.”
“The racecar driver?” he whispered back, moving his lips lightly over hers.
“Yes.” She closed her eyes. He couldn’t tell if she really enjoyed the caress or it was all a very good act meant to fool others. “There’s a hit on him, and it will take place at 24 Heures du Mans,” she referred to the upcoming racing event.
Lars tipped her head back, nibbled at her lips and then kissed down her throat to the pulse in her neck. Far too fast to be just an act.
He sighed.
When he pulled back, Julianna gave him a disappointed smile. “Go. I knew I couldn’t distract you from your work.”
Gripping her fingers, he brought them to his lips. “You’ve been enchanting. Maybe we’ll meet another time.” He left her sitting there, feeling only the slightest pang of regret that he hadn’t gotten to make love to a woman like her. But she was right—nothing could throw him off course, and the biggest race in France, 24 Hours of Le Mans, took place in days. He didn’t have spare minutes to waste, not even for test-driving a sexy redhead.