The room Lucy was staying in had been a favorite of his grandmother’s, Conor explained as they arrived for a late meal in the ultra-luxe space. While he poured them drinks, Lucy wandered onto the terrace that faced the Eiffel Tower across the Seine. The twinkling azure skyline sparkled like a movie set.
Lucy’s thoughts strayed to inviting him to stay, or…would he expect to spend the night with her after that breathtaking kiss? This date, which had been extended another day, was happening so fluidly. She was enjoying herself. But the dream of actual romance felt unattainable. Love felt like…a locked door to which she had lost the key. It wasn’t what Lucy Ellis had known or was even comfortable with. It felt much easier to push it away than to find that key and see if it really could open her heart.
But really, she was jumping too far ahead. Why was she thinking about love? Why not simply enjoy the moment?
She snapped some shots of the skyline. Her lucky ducks approved of the scenery posts but wanted to know if she was alone or with someone special.
Conor was growing more special with every wink, every smile—and that kiss.
He handed her a glass of wine. “I used to stay here with my gran when I was little. I would splay out and read over in that corner by the magnolia tree.”
“What stories did you read? Harry Potter? A Wrinkle in Time?”
“Usually a coding manual or a book on natural history.”
Of course, the man had a massive brain. But also eyes that could render her a quiver of gushing mush.
“I read mysteries. Though my flatmate is always trying to get me to read romance. She’s always striving for the great romance in her own life.”
“Aren’t you?”
Was she? Apparently so.
“Maybe. Are you?” She searched his face for the answer she wanted from him. His jaw muscle twitched.
Conor reached for a remote on a nearby table, and soft music surrounded their moonlit terrace. “Do you want to dance?”
He’d deftly avoided the romance question. Expecting too much, Lucy!
“Love to.”
They swayed and she rested her head on his shoulder. Heaven and moonbeams, giggly laughter and all the best things in life came to mind. She reached for her phone to record the moment, but it was inside, in her purse.
Her followers might never have an answer to their questions. And that was sad. Or was it? In the few years she’d been influencing, she hadn’t kept her life private. Sharing with others was what she did. It was how she related to the world. And in turn, she received the attention—the love—she had always desired, but through a screen, from a safe distance.
Now, it felt awkward to not share. But she wanted to respect Conor’s request that she didn’t include him in any photos.
“Should we go inside?” he asked.
She glanced inside to the bed. She wanted that, but she was worried. It felt fast. Almost as if she was taking advantage of something, though she couldn’t place a finger as to what.
“I’m not asking what you think I am,” he said. “You’re special, Lucy. I like you. And I want to move at a pace you’re comfortable with. Tonight, that feels like snuggling on the sofa, sipping wine and maybe falling asleep in each other’s arms.”
With a soft hush of breath, she nodded. “Sounds like a dream.”
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