A hand reached down between her shoulders, grabbing her coat and pulling her upwards. The air left her lungs momentarily and her feet were still stuck amongst the crowd. A strong arm wound around her waist and pulled her clear. Her feet stopped unsteadily on a wall at shoulder height to the throng.

‘Are you okay?’

She was teetering on the wall. The hand and arm that had steadied her had pulled away the instant she was free. She reached and grabbed hold of the dark sleeve in front of her, trying to regain her balance.

The voice sounded again. ‘Are you okay? Are you drunk?’ There was a slight edge of disappointment to the voice.

She steadied herself on the wall, taking a deep breath of relief before turning around to speak to her rescuer. How dared he accuse her of being drunk?

But the words died in her throat. Bright blue eyes and a broad chest obstructed her view.

Even on a dark Paris night those blue eyes would have attracted her attention. He was tall, dark-haired, with a broad chest, wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans with a dark wool coat on top. Trust her to find the best-looking guy in Paris and have no reliable witnesses. No one would believe her.

She automatically lifted her hands. ‘No. No, I’m not drunk. I just got stuck in a crowd going in the opposite direction from me.’

His demeanour changed. The skin around his eyes creased as he smiled. ‘What? You’re going home already? You don’t want to see the fireworks?’

His accent sent tingles across her skin. He sounded French, with a little something else.

He was teasing her, and now she could actually breathe she could take a little teasing.

She sighed. ‘No. I’m not going home. Not tonight anyway. Of course I want to see the fireworks.’ She held out her hands to the bodies pressed below. ‘Just not like this.’ The crowd had ground to a halt. She stared across at the sea of people. ‘I was supposed to be meeting my friends.’

‘You are lost?’ He sounded concerned.

‘Not exactly.’ She turned back to face him, getting a whiff of woody aftershave. ‘We were meeting at a sign near the Eiffel Tower.’ She shook her head. ‘I have absolutely no chance of getting there now.’

She had no intention of leaving the safety of this wall any time soon. She only hoped his friends weren’t all about to join them and there’d be no room for her to stay here.

He smiled as he looked down at all the people below. ‘You could be right. I’m sorry if I startled you but you looked frightened. I thought you were beginning to panic in the crowd.’

Her heart had stopped fluttering in her chest and her breathing was settling down. It had been an odd feeling, and so not like her. Ruby Wetherspoon didn’t tend to panic.

‘I was. Thank you. I’ve never really been in a crowd like that before.

It had definitely been a bit claustrophobic.’ She shook her coat free, letting some air circulate around her, and pulled her red hat from her hair.

‘There—that’s much better.’

‘It certainly is.’

He was smiling appreciatively at her and for a second she was unnerved. But, no. There was nothing predatory about her rescuer. He had kind eyes, even if the man exuded sex appeal from twenty paces. If her up-close-and-personal alarm was going off it wasn’t because she was scared—it was because it had been jolted back into life. About time too.

He nodded slowly. ‘Crowds can be...difficult.’

It was an odd choice of words, but then again her hesitant French would sound much poorer than his English.

‘And you’d know?’ She was curious.

His face crinkled. It seemed her half-inquisitive, half-sarcastic question was lost on him.

She held out her hand towards him. ‘Ruby. Ruby Wetherspoon from England.’

His warm hand closed around hers. ‘Alex,’ he said simply.

Her eyes glanced up and down his body. White T-shirt, blue jeans and black boots. But the dark wool coat seemed a little strange for a young guy—a little formal.

‘Are you from here?’

The corners of his lips turned upwards. ‘Close enough.’

Mystery. She liked it. Perfect for New Year’s Eve.

Under normal circumstances she might have felt a little nervous, a little wary around a mysterious stranger. But Alex didn’t give her those kind of vibes.

Trust your instincts. That was what her gran had always told her. And she should have. Because if she had she probably wouldn’t have found her boyfriend in bed with her ex-best friend. Truth was, she couldn’t wait to see the end of this stinker of a year.

She glanced around. For the moment they were the only two people perched on this precarious wall. ‘Well, Alex from “close enough”, where are your friends? Am I about to get trampled and thrown back to the crowd when they all want a place on this wall?’

She sent a silent prayer upwards. What was the betting they were all gorgeous and female?

He shrugged. ‘I lost them too. I climbed up here to look for them. Then I decided I liked the view.’

She turned to face where he was looking. Of course. A perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. For now it had a row of white lights running up the outside of its edges. The sun had set a few hours ago and it stood out like a beacon in the dark sky.