James & Jasmine Ch. 02

Sunday – Paris

James watched from the back seat as Jasmine exited the limo in front of the hotel. It was impossible to depart gracefully with such a dress and the doorman who opened her door was certainly privy to a magnificent view of her long lean legs as she placed her right foot on the cobblestone drive and brought her left around to steady herself and stand. James sat transfixed for the moment and then opened his own door to exit in a hurry so he could come around and assist.

They were finally in Paris, about to enter the Hotel Splendide, and he felt excited by the journey they'd already shared, as well as the prospect of the visit about to unfold. He swung around the open trunk a little too late, as the doorman had already assisted Jasmine from the limo and was guiding her under the porte-cochere to the front door of the elegant hotel. James smiled at the prospect. He'd better get used to folks going out of their way to interact with Jasmine – open a door here or pull out a chair there. She had that effect on people. He tipped the driver generously and followed them into the hotel.

The flight had been wonderful, as he expected it would be. He had seen the glee on Jasmine's face as they had entered the jumbo jet at Kennedy and settled into angled first class seats that were several steps above anything she'd ever experienced before. She had never in her life been served Champagne before even taking off. They shared a double seat combo and had had a great flight in every respect. The service had been impeccable and they had even managed to get a little sleep, nestled into their cushy seats that reclined into pseudo beds.

Jasmine had worn a simple silk shift and semi-sensible shoes. But once she was seated, her dress had slid up her long lean thighs in a tease to all who happened to walk by. The pull of her body and her personae was unlike anything James had ever felt before. He was thrilled to be sharing this journey with such an exquisite beauty.

Now, after a smooth flight and limo ride from De Gaulle, they were entering the lobby of one of the most romantic and classy hotels in Paris. James made fast work of the check-in process and they proceeded up to their rooms – both on the same floor, but across the hall from one another. They were all business as they moved into their respective rooms. James could tell that Jasmine was excited by the understated class of their accommodations.

"Oh, James. This is a lovely hotel. So elegant," she gushed with unbridled enthusiasm.

"Only the best for you, Jasmine," he chided.

It was mid-morning and they had checked in early. As they parted ways in the hallway, James suggested that they both take a nap and rest up for a couple hours, then reconvene in the lobby around 5pm. He knew that Jasmine hadn't slept all that well on the plane – she'd been too excited – and a good solid nap would slowly bring them both into the time zone and resolve the six hour time difference from the east coast. She agreed and they went their separate ways, both ready for a good sleep.

After a solid nap, a shower, a shave and a little office email business, James eagerly descended several floors to the lobby, hoping Jasmine had been able to wake up according to plan. He had no reason to fear as she was sitting in the ornate lobby as he sauntered in slowly to join her.

"Hi, James," Jasmine cooed. "I'd say good morning, but it's late afternoon and I really don't know what time of day it is or where I am," she joked.

"Well, as long as you got a little shut-eye, we should be able to while away a few hours now and get to bed early enough to get back into a Parisian rhythm by tomorrow," James proffered.

"Works for me," she replied. "I did sleep a little. But I'm in Paris!" she exclaimed. "And I can sleep when I get home. I can't wait to get out on the streets."

Neither could James. Jasmine was wearing tight black pants that stretched around her curvaceous form, a lovely short orange jacket over a silky white blouse, and relatively sensible walking boots. Her hair was wild and flowing, but in a measured way. Jasmine saw James's eyes scan her attire in approval and she lightly hooked her hand into the crook of his elbow as they departed the hotel.

"If you don't mind walking – and I hope you don't – then we'll take a stroll and find a place to eat. It's extremely early by French standards, but we're off by six hours so we'll have to eat as we see fit. I have a few places in mind, but let's get the lay of the land first. What do you say?" knowing exactly how Jasmine would respond.

"Lead the way," she responded.

They wandered north across the Seine and headed east along the Left Bank as they skirted Notre Dame on the Ile de la Cite and headed into a district that James referred to as "Le Marais". James could tell that Jasmine was happy to now be semi-alert and cruising the boulevards of Paris with her boss and traveling partner. And James was high on the subtle touch of Jasmine's fingers crooked into his bent arm. He could have walked for hours just so.

They headed further north into a maze of curving streets, James leading the way. He remembered a small bistro he'd visited before and they came upon it soon, ducking into the warm wooded interior from the early Paris evening. They shared a lovely meal, a nice bottle of red wine from the Rhone, and good conversation. Neither openly acknowledged the incredible situation that they found themselves in, yet both were highly aware and excited by the prospects of what lay ahead.

James kept looking at Jasmine in the flickering candlelight of their very private table. He was seated across from a woman whom he could not stop looking at. He kept waiting for some visual shoe to drop, but it never did. In fact, the more he looked at Jasmine's warm beauty, the more enamored he became of her. Never had he felt such an incredible draw; a magnetism that rivaled anything he'd ever experienced. James kept telling himself that this was a business trip; he had to exhibit some self-restraint, she was so much younger than him. Yet Jasmine's easy smile, lovely nature and deep green eyes kept him swimming in a warm pool of desire. The swirling rivulets of mahogany tresses that framed her gorgeous face just reinforced the focus of her intoxicating beauty and her lovely laugh melted away any hope he had of maintaining decorum. Still, he had to try.

They left the restaurant, a little tipsy and feeling no pain, and Jasmine was not shy to latch onto his arm again as they meandered back toward the 6th. James guided them down Rue de Rivoli and they headed left and back across the river at Pont Neuf. Halfway across the bridge they stopped to survey the scene. The dark inky waters of the Seine swirled below their feet as the golden lights of the monuments along the river glowed in the Parisian night. It was a magical view and moment to match. James felt Jasmine curve her arm up tighter into his as her warm body pressed against him.

He looked down at her fondly, embracing the moment at hand, and in a response to his gaze, she looked up into his eyes. He hesitated, though it was a hesitation borne of doubt more than desire. She was his assistant, his employee, his junior by more than twenty-five years. Yet he was more drawn to her at this moment than he had any right to be.

She returned his gaze as he looked down at her gorgeous face, shimmering in the warm Parisian light. The urge to lean down and kiss her at that moment was almost overwhelming. Perhaps she'd even respond if he did so. But his conscience curbed his growing desire – barely – and instead he made a comment about the beautiful lights, resisting, for the time being, the urge to embrace her.

"Oh, James. Can you believe we're here? I don't know. Maybe you're used to this kind of thing. It's so exciting for me, though," she said, beaming at him as she spoke.

"Well, to some extent that's true. I've been here a few times. But," he hesitated for a moment, "never with someone as beautiful as you."

He couldn't believe he had said that, but he was just speaking the truth.

"Aww, James. Thank you," she responded.

She tucked her hand around his upper arm once again and snuggled up close to him as they gazed down at the Seine, her soft bosom mashed against his elbow.

"How am I going to resist you over the next few days, Jasmine?" he exclaimed, peering into the glistening pools of her eyes.

"Who said you had to?" she replied with a smile. "And it goes both ways, you know."

"Well, I'm happy to hear that," he replied. "We should keep walking," James offered. Jasmine grasped his arm tightly as they began to walk again, wending their way back to the hotel. They walked in silence, both processing the moment and the situation. James knew he had to focus on the reason they were in Paris in the first place. He couldn't let himself get caught up in the seductive web of this beautiful woman – at least yet.

By now the jet lag was catching up with both of them and it seemed a good idea to get a good night's sleep so they could enjoy the sights the next day. They hesitated in the hallway as they each prepared to open their respective doors.

"Jasmine, I hope you get a good night's sleep," he stated. He hesitated for a moment, and then continued. "But, you have to know that I am completely and utterly attracted to you. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on. But, there are a million reasons why we have to be careful here. And first and foremost is the fact that we're here to do a job – to close a sale. I can't lose sight of that – we can't lose sight of that. So as much as I want you right now, I..."

It took every ounce of strength for James to keep his word as he looked into Jasmine's deep green eyes. He could see the resignation in her expression as she began to speak.

"I know, James. I'm letting Paris go to my head, unfortunately," she laughed. "But you're right. We have work to do and we need to keep a clear head these next few days."

The words were convincing; the tone of voice was not. He placed his hand on her arm and squeezed it gently. Waves of possibility roared through his mind, but he maintained a calm head.

"Good night, Jasmine," he said quietly. And without a thought, he did what just seemed natural. He leaned down to give her a soft kiss goodnight. And while it was a goodnight kiss, the minute their lips touched, there was a spark that jolted his senses. It was a kiss that was only meant to last a second – and maybe it did. But the energy and desire that passed between their lips at that moment was undeniable. Jasmine's lips were so soft and smooth, warm and wet, yielding to the gentle probe of his kiss.

They could have gone on. The portent of what might be on the horizon was clear to them both as James leaned back, looked into Jasmine's pleading eyes, squeezed her arms and said goodnight. Turning, they both opened their doors and went their separate ways for the night.

Monday – Paris

The next morning they met for breakfast and were both beginning to feel normal again. Jasmine had donned a pair of skin-tight gray jeans and a thin black cardigan sweater. It was unbuttoned enough to show a black camisole peaking from below, a scalloped edge of lace barely visible. Her cleavage was subtle, but noticeable, and James smiled at the thought of being able to take a gander whenever he felt like it throughout the day – which would be often. Her heeled sandals gave a sexy lift to her form, but were sensible enough for a day of walking. Her hair looked casually tousled and a pair of long dangling earrings peaked out from the wavy strands of her brunette tresses.

James had outlined a full agenda for the day and they were both excited to be on their way, knowing that the promise of the previous evening might further unfold later that night. For the next six hours James led Jasmine on a whirlwind tour of Paris. They hit the highlights of the Louvre, visited the Impressionists floor at the Musee d'Orsay, window-shopped along Saint Germain des Pres, watched the young boys sail their boats in the Jardins des Luxembourg, and wandered the length of the Tuileries. They had lunch at a small bistro near the Palais Royal and James showed Jasmine one of his favorite spaces in Paris – the hidden gem of a park called Place des Vosges.

Jasmine was entranced by both the beauty of one of the world's great cities, but also by her guide. The more they walked and talked, the more they both seemed to curl into an orbit that included just the two of them. James moved about the city with a self-assurance that was both sexy and comfortable. The prospect of the magical days to come only added to the excitement of the moment.

For his part James was becoming further entranced, if that was even possible, by his traveling companion. She was observant of her surroundings, respectful of the culture and had a bright-eyed giddiness that was both infectious and seductive. James imagined her wandering the streets of Paris with her mother and aunt. Now, she was here as an adult, with her boss, for a project. There was no script to follow in the coming days, other than focusing on the primary goal at hand: their presentation to Caresse.

James kept stealing glances at Jasmine as they walked about Paris on this beautiful spring afternoon. The gray jeans hugged her lower curves in a sinful way, highlighting the perfect ass and thin, but muscular, thighs that lay below. Occasionally he would catch her in profile: a sweater covered breast jutting softly into space, her hip arcing outward against an urban backdrop, her curvy ass swaying as she strolled down a rue or boulevard. Her laugh made him giddy and her eyes danced with the excitement of the moment. She often spoke too softly for him to hear, but that gave him the excuse to lean in closer and gather in her scent as she repeated whatever it was that she'd said. It was like they were orbiting around one another for the entire day – circling in a slow and steady motion.

At lunch James laid out a plan.

"So, today is for fun. Tonight we'll have a working dinner and review our strategies for tomorrow's meeting." He immediately regretted sounding so clinical in his agenda.

"Oh my," Jasmine responded with a grimace. "This sounds serious. Should I wear overalls and a hard hat," she joked.

James softened and welcomed her reproach. "I'm sorry if I got a big hard-edged there. We'll still have a very nice dinner. I've got a reservation at a small bistro very close to our hotel. We'll have to talk a little business, though. We do have a big day tomorrow. But I really don't want to see you in overalls tonight," he grinned. "Unless that's all you're wearing," he joked.

"Mmhmm. Well, good, because I didn't bring any. I only brought silky slinky Parisian things," she said, batting her eyes flirtatiously. "Hey, you were the one who sent me off to the store with Missy to stock up on sartorial goodies. So you're gonna have to be flexible, Mister." She flashed that amazing smile of hers as she took a sip of white wine. James tingled with anticipation.

"Well, I think I can handle that. Sorry if I get a little overbearing. There is a lot riding on this trip. I'm doing my best to stay focused – and being with you makes it, well, hard."

James realized Jasmine could have jumped all over his wording. Instead she took another sip of wine and gave him a knowing smile over the rim of her glass. Her hair hung over her face as she looked at him to reply.

"Well, James. You've got to keep things in perspective. Our client is selling lingerie, not machine parts. We've got to be loose and real. We've got to come across as two people who understand their mission and their consumer." She put her glass down and played serious for a moment. "But, yes, I truly do understand the importance of tomorrow and I am here as your assistant and will do, well, anything you want," she said seriously, but playfully as well.

"Anything?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, you'll just have to wait to find out," she teased.

They enjoyed the rest of the afternoon, wandering one of the great cities of the world, and returned to the hotel late in the afternoon, tired, but exhilarated. They had reservations for dinner at eight and a few hours to rest up and get ready.

"I'll be knocking on your door about 7:30, Jasmine. Get a nap and rest up. We're going to have a great evening," he stated with confidence.

"I'll be ready," she replied with a little twist of her hips; subtle, but certainly noticed by James. Their doors closed and each went about preparing for the night ahead.

At precisely 7:30 James knocked on Jasmine's door. The woman who answered completely took his breath away. Jasmine was dressed in a springy silk dress that hugged each and every curve of her upper body and flared and flounced loosely around her lower extremities. It was an intricate pattern of weaving deep colors and paid a compliment to her fair skin. The bodice swept down low under her full breasts, inviting anyone interested to savor the dark crease of her deep cleavage and the full thrust of the upper slopes of her glorious bust. Her hair was wildly tousled, her beautiful face made up to subtle perfection, and the hem of the dress stopped just below her knees, accenting her gorgeous calves and a pair of impossibly high heels, spiked and strapped. James's eyes drifted over his traveling companion and he couldn't help but smile broadly at the beauty before him.

"Oh my," was all he could utter at first. "You clean up nice, young lady. My God, Jasmine. You're simply beautiful," he rambled. "Thanks for not wearing overalls," he joked.

"Maybe next time, James." She did a quick twirl for approval, her dress flaring out for a brief glimpse of her toned legs. She stretched her long bare arms over James's shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. Her scent was intoxicating and he rested his hands lightly on her silk clad hips, amazed by the tautness of her slender physique.

"I'm so looking forward to tonight, James," she whispered in his ear. He pulled back, held her lightly and looked into the glistening eyes of this most stunning woman. He felt like he was floating on a cushion of warm air.

"Allons," James offered, holding his elbow out in a gentlemanly gesture. Jasmine grabbed a hold and they headed off into the Parisian night.

James had selected a lovely little bistro just a short walk from the hotel. He figured Jasmine might be wearing very high heels, as she was, and he didn't want to make her walk too far, nor did he want to drive or take a taxi. He wanted to walk with this beautiful woman on his arm. The next few days would be a whirlwind of activity, so they both looked forward to an evening just for themselves.

Dinner was superb, washed down with a beautiful 2005 Bandol, and the service was impeccable. As much as James enjoyed his meal, he enjoyed the beautiful woman who sat across from him even more. She looked so lovely in the soft candlelight and her eyes danced with the promise of the evening as it unfolded. They talked about the impending meeting with Caresse as they laughed and flirted and let their attraction for one another weave its web.

James had brought a shoulder bag with the small prints of the larger photos they would present the next day. They looked at the images and discussed their approach and who would say what as they gave their pitch. The photos they were looking at, of course, were of Jasmine wearing little and in the sexiest poses imaginable. Most were anonymously sexy, of course: a close-up of a soft bust or the shadow soaked curve of an exquisite derriere. No one would be the wiser.

But when they came to the one shot that showed Jasmine's face, they both hesitated. She looked at James for some reassurance that this was the right thing to do.