He clocked several French security officers lingering in the lobby, and when the elevator doors opened, Maxim was inside.
Silently he, Maxim, and Regina rode to the top floor.
The hallway had only four doors, and they walked to the one furthest to the left. Maxim knocked in a discreet pattern, then angled his body to block the door. They stood in silence for twominutes before there was an answering knock from inside and the door opened.
The first thing he saw was a beautiful view of the illuminated Eiffel Tower, which seemed to sparkle gold against the dark sky.
Then he noticed the people.
The hotel suite was full of people from both Hungary and France. Most sat at a large dining table beside the window, but a few, including Victoire, lounged on couches and armchairs. A desk in the corner had a plethora of laptops, monitors, and receivers on it—a security command station.
He walked in, frowning, as Grigoris rose to meet him.
Nikolett was nowhere in sight.
Was this an intervention? He didn’t need a fucking intervention. Wasn’t that what therapy had been?
“Fleet Admiral.”
“Grigoris. Where is?—”
Then he saw her, standing alone on a balcony off to the right. She still wore the wrap dress, but now she had on a shockingly bright neon open-pattern cast that reminded him oddly of coral. She was standing, a running shoe on her other foot and one hand braced on the balcony rail.
“She’s exposed out there.” Eric started forward, intending to haul her into the relative safety of the room.
“The only rooms with a direct line of sight are ours, and the buildings around us are all too low, or don’t have line of sight.”
Grigoris’ words stopped him mid-stride.
Eric rolled his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I should have trusted your expertise.”
Grigoris’ carefully blank expression slipped into surprise.
Eric had stopped by Victoire, reclined elegantly on the couch, who now reached out to touch his forearm. He looked down at her.
“Some things are meant to be,” she said in a low voice. “But don’t make fate do all the work.”
He blinked, then nodded.
A moment later, Eric stepped out onto the balcony, closing the thick glass door behind him.
Nikolett had turned, both hands on the railing, her back to the glass wall and all the people inside. “They can’t hear us,” Nikolett said when he closed the door behind himself. “The glass is double glazed, and I’m not wearing my communication unit.”
She pulled her hair back with one hand, exposing her ear, her hair held in a messy tail at the back of her head. The sight of her slender, vulnerable neck made his anxiety spike with fear for her even as arousal crawled through his belly.
Eric joined her at the railing. Given they were on the top floor, the balcony was open to the sky, though there was a small awning in the hotel’s signature red that covered the balcony door.
“Do you want to sit?” He glanced at the iron bistro set.
“I feel less vulnerable standing.”
He took a moment to absorb that blow. “You don’t want to be vulnerable with me.”
“Historically it hasn’t gone well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You said that in your text.”
