Page 74 of Fifth Avenue Devil

Nate returns, sits at the end of the bed, and checks on my ankle. The cold compress numbs the pain, but when his fingers graze my skin, I feel flames licking up my thighs that have nothing to do with my injury. I almost can’t reconcile the gentle way Nate touches my ankle with how he usually behaves. It’s so different from his usual brash demeanor.

"Your ankle should be fine," he announces. "Just try to stay off it for a bit."

"Thanks," I reply softly. I lick my lips, acutely aware of how close he is to me. A charged silence fills the room.

“What should we do now that attending the conference isn’t on the agenda?” I ask.

Nate smiles. “The conference was just an excuse to take you to Paris for a weekend.”

“I knew it!” I laugh. “I have to admit, this little getaway is romantic.”

“Isn’t it?” He grins and splays out on the bed next to me. “It’s nice being here with you. There aren’t any VPs breathing down my neck. No pressure from my brothers. No expectations at all.”

Nodding, I agree with him. “Yeah. It’s nice to get away. I know my mom is scheming at this very moment to marry me off to some troglodyte who wants twenty babies and zero backtalk. But the view from this room allows me to forget about that for a while.”

Nate frowns. For a long moment, he’s quiet. He seems lost in thought. Then he says, “My parents have always expected greatness from me. My mom told me once that I was expected to run for president, even though I have never shown the most remote interest in politics. In her view, running for president was the next linear step in my evolution. First a kid, then a young man, then CEO of my company, then president of the whole country.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You’d be a terrible president. No offense.”

He shakes his head and smiles. “You’re right. I have too much of a temper.”

I lean closer, appreciating the way that Nate is talking to me. At the moment, he’s a confidante, not a rival. “It sounds like we both have controlling parents,” I say softly.

He sighs. “Having parents with extremely high expectations is an odd thing. Like I’m boxed in, and told what to do and how to feel about it. Like my wants and needs don’t even matter."

"Even if it means hiding who you actually are?" I question. My heart pounds in my chest as I realize the vulnerability we're both displaying. This conversation feels as dangerous as it is exhilarating.

"Sometimes," he confesses with a shrug. “I doubt either of my parents knows who I am. They can list my business accomplishments with no problem, though.”

I had no idea that he felt that way. Prompted by his openness, I confess, "You know, I'm constantly trying to prove myself. Not just to the board but to my mom as well. Before my dad got sick, he was no better. My parents have such high expectations for me. I feel like I'm drowning under their weight."

"Annalise," he says softly, his hand reaching out to brush a stray curl from my face. "You don't need to prove anything to anyone. You're more than capable, and I know you'll do great things."

"Thank you," I whisper, my breath hitching as our eyes meet again.

"Maybe we're just two people who happen to be good at hiding their true selves." He tilts his head.

"Is that what you've been doing all this time? Hiding?"

He pauses, thinking. "Isn't that what we all do, to some extent?"

"Maybe," I concede. "But sometimes, it's worth removing the mask. It’s a risk, but you have to let others see the real you. Maybe just one person."

"Is that what you're doing right now?"

I take a deep breath. "I’d like to show you.”

We’re drawn together like two magnets. The moment our lips meet, it feels like the world catches fire around us. It’s a struggle to breathe, yet I can’t be bothered to do so; I am consumed by hunger, a primal need. Our tongues tease and explore. His kiss is hard and demanding. Each taste of him sends shivers down my spine.

I need him. I’m desperate, starving.

Nate sees me. Really sees me. And I’m not hiding anymore.

Twenty-Nine

Nate

As I stand outside the Louvre, its grandiose glass pyramid glistening beneath the Parisian sun, I feel a sense of awe. Not just of this city, but of Annalise as well. Paris is a creature unto itself. It teems with people from all walks of life, going in every possible direction. The city is stunning, from the first rays of sun at dawn to the dying evening glow.

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