“Really? I thought that was just me,” I said, delighted.
“It’s definitely not just you,” he assured me.
I leaned down and kissed his chest. “After that workout, we should probably replenish our energy stores and get some breakfast.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” he agreed. “But how about we order in and have breakfast in bed? Then we can have a shower and start exploring Paris?”
“We can have a shower?” I repeated, catching the word.
Chance smiled. “Of course; it’s a romantic getaway, so shower sex is mandatory.”
I laughed. “Then who am I to resist?"
He grabbed me and started kissing me on my nose, my eyes, my cheeks, and my face. We wrestled together on the bed for a few minutes, being silly and happy and carefree. No one knew us here; we didn’t have to sneak around or hide our relationship. We could walk down the street holding hands, and no one would care.
I was so caught up in the moment, that I couldn’t keep my feelings to myself. “I love you, Chance,” I whispered to him, while he was kissing my neck.
He raised his head, and his hazel eyes met mine. He smiled at me for a long moment, and then he kissed me hard on the lips. It wasn’t an answer, and I knew it would bother me later that he hadn’t replied. But for that one moment…it was enough.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chance
The city looked spectacular from the Seine. Millions of lights sparkled on every building from leagues around, and it looked as though the city had been plucked from some fantastical world of wonder. The contrast of the lights against the white canopies of snow only served to make the scene that much more beautiful.
Natalie was entranced. We were sitting in a private room on one of the Seine’s most reputed water cruises. The boat was relatively small, compared with some of the others we had seen, but it was unique in that it held private cabins for romantic dinners. Our room was small and somewhat circular. Our table had been placed beside the large clear windows, from which we could see all of Paris as we floated by. There was soft music playing in the background, and candles had been placed around the little cabin in little star-carved candleholders that cast shadow stars onto the walls around us.
Natalie sat opposite me, looking spectacular in a red, floor-length slip dress. She looked like she belonged on the set of an Audrey Hepburn movie. Her dark hair had been combed into shiny waves that cascaded over one shoulder, and her eyes were ringed with charcoal liner that brought out the blue of her eyes. I could barely look away from her. She, however, could barely take her eyes off of Paris.
“There it is,” Natalie said, pointing in one direction. “Notre Dame!”
I smiled. “We saw it this morning remember?” I reminded her. “We walked inside, looked around, took some pictures.”
She laughed. “I know. It’s just that seeing it from this perspective is so different. And it looks amazing at night... It’s a shame that architecture has become so mundane. Look at how much more impressive medieval architecture is. It has so much character, so much strength.”
I looked at her in amusement. Sometimes when she spoke, I felt as though she belonged in another time. She loved history and mythology. She loved old-fashioned clothes and old-timey movies. She loved old-age architecture and traditional food. That was one of the reasons I was so fascinated with her. She was an old soul.
There was nothing frivolous about her. She didn’t live her life based on other people’s expectations. She did what felt right to her and stayed away from society’s opinions. I realized that that was the one quality that had made this relationship last. I didn’t just lust after her; I respected her, I admired her. I wanted to know her as I had never wanted to know another woman before her.
“I agree.” I nodded. “But do you think it’s the architecture that lends character or the historical
significance of the structure.”
“Both,” she replied promptly. “It can only be both. Its history gives you chills when you walk through the building, but its architecture alone can make you speechless with awe. You realize Notre Dame was constructed before man had the benefit of modern technology. It took nearly a hundred years to construct.”
“I do happen to know that,” I nodded.
“I love Gothic architecture,” she sighed. “Particularly French Gothic architecture. Seeing it just naturally makes you believe in evil queens and long-lost princesses and gargoyles coming to life.”
I laughed. “I think I’m missing something.”
“I used to daydream a lot as a child,” Natalie confessed. “Gothic Cathedrals and castles were always the setting to my daydreams. The architecture inspires fairytales, in my opinion.”
“For a second there, I thought I had misread the Hunchback of Notre Dame.”
“Victor Hugo,” Natalie sighed. “He’s always been one of my favorites. The Hunchback was my second favorite work of his though. My first was always Les Miserables.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”