‘You watch Arno practice his swordfighting in Le Cafe Theatre’s training room, unable to look away from the gracefulness of his moves. In the heat of the Parisian summer, he sheds his shirt to cool off, and the sight of him, bare-chested and moving in such focused, forceful movements arouses you. When he notices you watching, he winks. “Like what you see, cherie?” he teases. As you stutter out an unconvincing denial, he draws closer to whisper, “There’s more to see, if you’d like me to show you.”’