Page 180 of Knot Happening Again

I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. "I may have mentioned I was bringing someone special."

I can't blame her for being on edge now that those bastards have plastered her name all over every gossip rag. All the more reason to get her away from it all for a little while. I know that's a big part of why the others agreed to my plans for the evening.

The elevator doors open to reveal the rooftop, and I hear Ophelia's sharp intake of breath. The city of Toulouse stretchesout before us, a tapestry of twinkling lights and ancient architecture. The Garonne River winds through it all, a silver ribbon in the moonlight.

"Leon," she breathes, "it's beautiful."

Pride swells in my chest. I'd hoped she'd like it, but seeing the wonder in her eyes makes all the planning worth it.

I lead her to our table, pulling out her chair. As she sits, I catch a whiff of her scent—ocean and bliss, tinged with the lingering arousal from our activities on the plane. It takes every ounce of self-control not to pull her into my arms right then and there.

Instead, I take my seat across from her, drinking in the sight of her. The soft glow of the candles dances across her features, highlighting the curve of her cheek, the fullness of her lips. God, she's beautiful.

The waiter appears with a bottle of wine, pouring us each a glass. As he leaves, a violinist emerges from the shadows, the first notes of a haunting melody filling the air.

Ophelia's eyes widen. "Is this… just for us?"

I nod, unable to keep the smile from my face. "The whole restaurant is tonight. I wanted it to be special."

She takes a sip of her wine, her gaze never leaving mine. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble."

"I wanted to," I say softly. "You deserve it, Ophelia. You deserve the world."

I'll tell her that as many times as she needs to hear it to believe it, and then some.

A blush creeps up her cheeks, and she looks away, out over the city. "It would be something, wouldn't it? To live in a place like this. So much history, so much inspiration..."

My heart skips a beat. Is she considering it? The house is hers, after all. She could stay here, start a new life...

This is her decision to make, and I have to respect whatever she chooses.

As if reading my thoughts, Ophelia turns back to me, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "But there's no place like home," she says. "Though... I wouldn't mind spending vacations here. With the pack."

Relief and joy wash over me. I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. "We'd all like that," I say, my voice thick with emotion.

The rest of the dinner passes in a blur of exquisite food and easy conversation. It feels... right, being here with her like this.

Like no time has passed at all.

As the waiter clears our dessert plates, I stand, offering Ophelia my hand. "There's something I want to show you."

She takes it, allowing me to lead her to the edge of the rooftop. The canal stretches out below us, dark and mysterious in the night.

"Watch," I whisper, nodding to a figure in a gondola below.

The gondolier strikes a match, and suddenly the water comes alive with light. Hundreds of candles float on the surface, spelling out Ophelia's name in flickering flame.

I hear her gasp beside me. "Leon," she breathes, “this is... it's too much. It’s… ridiculous and over the top and?—”

"Are you complaining?" I ask, unable to keep the smirk from my voice.

She turns to me then, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Before I can react, she's in my arms, her lips crashing against mine.

I pull her close, one hand tangling in her hair as the other wraps around her waist. She tastes like mint and chocolate and something uniquely Ophelia. I could get drunk on this kiss alone.

When we finally break apart, both breathless, I can't help but smile. "So... not complaining then?"

Ophelia laughs, the sound like music to my ears. "Definitely not complaining."

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