opening act's creating quite a sensation."

He laid a hand over hers. "The response has been great." He shifted his

gaze from Marianne to Emma. "Everything's been great."

Marianne sipped her wine, measuring him. If she had been into religious

art, she would have painted him as John the Apostle. He had that

dreamy, dedicated look. Or skipping a few centuries, Hamlet. The young

prince shadowed by tragedy. She smiled as the waiter served the fresh

drinks. Then again, she could have dipped back only a few years and

used him as a model for the young Brian McAvoy. She wondered if Emma

saw the resemblance.

"Where to from here?" she asked.

"Nice." Drew stretched out his legs. "But I'm not in any hurry to leave

Paris." He glanced toward the street where cars and bicycles whizzed by

with careless disregard for life and limb. "What's it like to live

herb?"

"Noisy. Exciting." She laughed. "Wonderful. I have this little

apartment right over a bakery. There is nothing, believe me nothing,

that smells like a French bakery first thing in the morning."

They spent an hour loitering over their drinks before Drew leaned over

to kiss Emma. "Look, I've got to get to rehearsal and I know you want

to talk. I'll see you tonight. You too, Marianne."

"I'm looking forward to it." She, along with half the women around the

cafe, watched him walk away. "I believe he's the most beautiful man

I've ever seen."

"He is, isn't he?" She leaned over to grip Marianne's hands. "You do

like him, don't you?"

"What's not to like? He's gorgeous, talented, smart, funny." She

grinned. "Maybe he'll dump you for me."

"I'd really hate to have to murder my best friend, but

"I figure I'm safe. He doesn't look at anyone but you. Why, I don't

know; just because you've got those incredible cheekbones and big blue

eyes, a yard of blond hair and no hips. Some guys have no taste."

She leaned back. "You look ridiculously happy."

"I am." She took a deep breath, drawing in the scents of wine and

flowers. Of Paris. "I think I'm in love with him."

"No kidding? I'd never have guessed." With a laugh she patted

Emma's cheeks. "Pal, it's all over your face. If I were to paint you

right now, I'd call it Infatuated. What does your dad think of him?"

Emma picked up her cold coffee and sipped. "He has a lot of respect for

Drew's talent both as a musician and as a songwriter."

"I meant what does he think of Drew as the man his daughter's in love

with."

"I don't know. We haven't talked about it."

Marianne's brows disappeared under her sharply cut bangs. "You

mean you haven't told him that you're involved?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't know exactly." Emma shoved the coffee aside. "I guess I just

want to keep it to myself. I want it to belong to me for a while. He

still thinks of me as a child."