“To be clear, this ends any conflict or tension between the Spartan Guard and Hungary?” Grigoris asked.
“Yes,” Regina confirmed before turning to Eric. “Are we staying in Paris? If you’re moving to this hotel, we’ll need to make arrangements, and depending on how many days we’re staying, you have appointments and meetings that need to be rearranged.”
Nikolett glanced at Eric to find he was already looking at her.
Regina’s string of questions boiled down to “what’s next?”
They didn’t have an answer for that question, because they hadn’t talked about the future, even their very near future—aka tomorrow.
“We’ll get back to you,” Eric said, holding out his hand.
And when Nikolett placed hers in his, everyone’s attention fastened to their joined hands, as if this were a momentous thing.
Because it was.
Eric led her to the connecting door that would take them from the larger suite to her smaller one. She glanced at thebalcony where they’d had their rain-soaked conversation. Now, the memory made her smile.
Once inside the relative privacy of her suite, Eric dramatically bolted the door from their side, then sighed and unlocked it. For safety, her people, and now his, needed to be able to get in.
Eric walked to the window, looking out at Paris which was painted pink and gold by sunset. “Want to run away with me?”
Nikolett leaned against his back, cheek on his shoulder blade. “Yes. Where would we go?”
“Does it matter?”
“No. Not as long as it’s just us.”
Eric turned, pulling her into his arms. “A private island, somewhere tropical, where all we have to do is eat, drink, and have sex.”
“Bliss,” she murmured as he rested his cheek on her head.
“We could do it.” His tone was hesitant but serious. “Just…leave.”
For the first time in her life, running away from her responsibilities sounded smart, maybe even brave, not cowardly.
Because they wouldn’t really be running away, they’d be running toward something, together.
“How long could we stay gone before we started to worry about the people we left behind?” she asked in the same low voice.
He sighed. “It’s a good dream.”
“A very good dream.”
“Nikolett, I need to ask you something.”
Wary, she eased away from him, searching his face, which was solemn and serious.
“Will you…have dinner with me?” He grinned.
Nikolett rolled her eyes.
“We do need to eat. Is there room service?”
“I think so. Last night, we ordered from a special menu from the famous restaurant, but I think there is a regular menu.”
“‘We’ meaning you and Cookie Guy?”
“Yes.” Nikolett watched him, trying to read Eric’s mood.
