Free Passion Sails at Sea (Diary of a Free Woman) by Diane Thorne Page A

were staring at her legs. Slowly, he lifted his gaze. “Exquisite.”
    Blood rushed to her face. Her heart thumped faster. Was he referring to her or the picture?
    He shifted his attention from her to the painting. “Her skin is fairer than yours and breasts are smaller.” He glanced at Gwen’s chest. “Yes, much. Yours are better.”
    Holy hell , Mr Sexy had observed her breasts and complimented them. Moisture seeped between her legs and dampened her panties. Her temperature skyrocketed. She fanned herself with the map.
    “You’re American, yes?” he asked.
    “I am, yes. I don’t speak French.”
    He smiled and gestured to shake her hand. “Pierre Devaux.”
    Gwen quickly shoved the map in her bag then accepted his greeting. “Gwenevere Stratten. You may call me Gwen.”
    “A pleasure to meet you,” he said.
    Gwen’s hormones were on fire. His eyes, his voice and that damn sexy accent were too much for her. Merely being around him could cause her to have an orgasm.
    “Nice to meet you, too,” Gwen said and smiled.
    He let go of her hand. “Is this your first visit to Paris?”
    “Yes. I’m on vacation here for a few days then I leave for Italy.”
    “And your first trip to the Louvre?”
    She nodded. “Yes.”
    “Would you like a personal guide? I’ve visited many times and know my way around here.”
    “Really?”
    He smiled and offered his hand. “I would be honored to escort such a beautiful woman around the Louvre.”
    Gwen couldn’t refuse the opportunity to get to know Pierre more. Her body would hate her if she did. She placed her hand in his.
    He closed his fingers around hers and guided her away from the painting. “I hope you don’t mind, but I followed you from the stairs.”
    She walked slowly next to him. “I’m really sorry for—”
    “Please”—he held up his free hand—“no more apologies. Perhaps our meeting was fate.”
    Fate? Gwen didn’t believe in such a thing. She did believe in opportunities and when they revealed themselves, they were worth taking. Meeting Phillip on the plane and joining the mile high club was a prime example.
    “Do you live and work here in Paris?” she asked.
    “Yes. I’m in the Entertainment business.” He stopped and turned to the wall. “And while I admire the work of the artists who created all these masterpieces, they never portray bodies accurately. Women have small breasts and men have small penises. Here is a perfect example.”
    Gwen pressed her lips together to prevent the laughter from bursting free. Once she gained control of her humorous side, she said, “A large cock might take the focus off the rest of the picture.”
    “Yes, but it would reflect realism and how the man truly feels.” Pierre gently squeezed her hand.
    “Maybe the artist thought it would offend others of his era.” Gwen shrugged.
    “A man should be proud of his manhood when he’s excited by a woman.” He met her gaze. “I am.”
    Gwen realized her mouth was hanging open and shut it. Did he confess he had a hard-on? She glanced down. Unfortunately, his dark pants hid any sign of an erection.
    “Would you prefer me to have a small penis if I were in this picture? Would you not rather see the real thing?”
    Her face felt as if it were on fire. “I’d much rather see the true shape.”
    He moved closer to her. “You wouldn’t be disappointed.”
    “I believe that.” She stared into his blue eyes while her panties grew wetter. The man had sex appeal she couldn’t resist.
    He lifted his free hand and traced his fingers down her arm. A chill raced through her, hardening her nipples and sending erotic tingles to her apex.
    “You are a work of beauty. Dare I say I would enjoy marveling at your body? I would enjoy…”
    He turned his head without finishing his sentence. Three ladies stood several feet away, whispering and watching Gwen and Pierre. They all had dark hair, yet two were younger. The oldest was fishing inside her purse as if she were