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Chapter 100 *

“Monsieur Ashford, comment était-ce vous le dîner?” the Maître d’ asked when they neared him.

He was an older man, tall and slender, his hair grey around the edges, the top of his head bald and shiny. He looked at them through dark grey eyes that seemed to twinkle. He was quite friendly, and after the nerve-wrecking walk she just had, that was very much appreciated. He smiled politely at Sandra and she found herself relaxing immensely.

“Très bon, merci,” Creighton answered, his arm slipping around Sandra’s waist.

The two men exchanged a few more comments in French before she found herself being escorted out the door at a leisurely pace. They climbed back into the limousine where Sandra literally collapsed against the leather cushions.

“You did remarkably well,” Creighton praised, kissing her hand again as the car pulled back into traffic. “There wasn’t a person in that room who didn’t admire you.”

“I’m sure they were all wondering how they could trade places with me.”

“I know the me
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