Page 22 of Angel Eyes

With a steadying breath, I shifted my weight forward, summoning the courage to jump. Before I could, Gabriel was in front of me, his hands circling my waist. I clutched his toned arms, my nails digging into his sturdy biceps, as he lowered my body against his in a slow descent that stole all the air from my lungs. When my feet were once again on the ground, I looked up, catching the hard movement in his throat.

“Là, saine et sauve.”

I pulled out of his grasp, feeling dazed. “Thanks.”

The sound of a violin filtered across the courtyard, its rich and complex tones washing over the silence between us as I searched for something to say. But honestly, what did one say after being lifted in the air Dirty Dancing style by a strong and admittedly handsome Frenchman?

“So,” he said, interrupting my thoughts, “I got you something.”

And he comes bearing gifts?

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, rectangular card, the words Paris Museum Pass printed across the front. “This will gain you access to most museums and other popular sites around the city.” He took a step closer, opening the card to reveal a map of monuments. “See, there are quite a few places you can visit close to campus, so I thought this might come in handy if you ever have a free afternoon.”

“Thank you. This is incredibly thoughtful. I can pay you back—” The words died in my throat as he closed a hand over mine, his eyes piercing me with a hard look.

“Juliet, let’s get something straight from the outset. If I offer to do something for you or if I give you something, it’s because I want you to have it. I’m not looking for repayment or return favors. It is a gift freely given. Do you understand?”

I bobbed my head.

“Good.”

Ten minutes later, we descended the stairs beneath the pyramid, entering the main atrium of the museum.

“Wow, look how huge this map is.” I unfolded it, allowing it to fall open lengthwise.

Gabriel chuckled. “That map is almost as tall as you are.”

“Oh, ha ha, you’re so hilarious.” I skimmed over the four floors of exhibits ranging from Greek and Roman antiquities to artistic panels depicting Islamic poetry.

Gabriel hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll go grab a couple of audio guides. While I’m gone, why don’t you decide what you’d like to see first?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he backed away, throwing me a grin before striding toward the visitors’ center. I frowned, raking my eyes over the list of galleries. There was no way we could see all the art on display in a single day. Maybe Gabriel would be open to coming back again sometime?

Don’t be desperate, Juliet.

Right. Self-admonishment complete, I turned my attention to the map, redoubling my effort to choose an exhibit.

After a few minutes, Gabriel returned, audio guides in hand. “Find anything interesting?”

“How do you feel about the Italian collection? I’ve been interested in Leonardo da Vinci’s work ever since I took a class on Renaissance art in college.”

“That’s a good choice.” He handed me a Nintendo 3DS that had been repurposed into an audio guide. I stared at it in bewilderment as Gabriel’s lips ticked up in one corner. “One must admire French resourcefulness, no?”

I laughed, following him in the direction of the Denon wing.

As we ascended the staircase to the upper floors, I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. “Do you think we should see the French paintings first? We are in Paris, after all. Tribute must be paid, wouldn’t you say?”

He slowed, his eyes painting a path over my features. “There is no should when it comes to art. Art is about what moves you, what inspires you. I want you to explore your passions, Juliet, whatever they are. My only aim is to satisfy your … curiosity.”

I exhaled, reaching blindly for the railing. He’s only talking about art. And I was acting like I was sixteen again. No, actually, sixteen-year-old Juliet would be ashamed of me. She had a lot more sense.

I recovered myself by the time we reached the second floor, entering an elegant corridor that was nothing short of palatial. Arching skylights graced the ceiling and columns of beige marble divided the pale walls lined with rows of paintings.

It was breathtaking.

“Gabriel, look at this.” I stopped in front of an oil painting, the words Saint John the Baptist printed on a placard beneath it. “This is one of my favorite pieces.”

“Vraiment?” He drew up beside me, considering it. “It certainly is beautiful.”

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