Page 78 of Guarded King

“Just trying to even the score,” I tell her.

“Uh-huh.” Eyes sparkling, she cocks her head. “And what if I’m not okay with staying another night in the incredibly beautiful city of Nice?”

I rub my hand over my mouth to hide my amusement. “Actually, my acquaintance is in Paris, so we’ll stay the night there. But to make up for putting you out by extending our stay, I’ve arranged entry for you to visit the Louvre this evening.”

She sucks in a sharp breath. “What?”

“I won’t need your services during my meeting, so,” I shrug, feigning nonchalance, “why not? It would be a shame to visit Paris and not see it.”

Her throat bobs and a glossy sheen makes her eyes shimmer. “Thank you, Roman.”

The emotion in her voice ties unexpected knots in my chest. “No need to thank me. After all, I’m forcing you to stay another night.”

She shakes her head again, at a loss for words.

She’s still speechless as I steer her toward the exit. “Shall we then?”

We packed this morning and left our suitcases in the car, so once we’re buckled in, we head straight to the airport.

“Are you sure you don’t need me for your meeting?” Chloe asks as we board my jet.

“No. It’s informal.” And a last-minute decision. The man I’ve arranged to meet is an acquaintance from college who I’m catching up with over drinks. “It’s about an hour and a half to Paris. You should have another nap. Don’t want you falling asleep in front of the Mona Lisa.”

She gives me a beguiling smile. “Dad would never forgive me.”

After we take off, she retires to the bed at the back of the plane, and I dive into work. The flight to Paris is smooth and uneventful, the drone of the jet engines the perfect type of white noise to encourage productivity.

Chloe gets up not long before we land, and I insist she have a light meal. If she doesn’t eat now, she won’t have time before my meeting and her Louvre visit. Though we’ll be able to have a late dinner.

In Paris, a waiting car carries us to a premier hotel nestled in the heart of the city.

Chloe’s suite is once again next to mine. Clearly, I’m a masochist who enjoys torturing myself with the knowledge that my gorgeous assistant is only a wall away. That her bed is only a few feet from mine. But these suites have the best view of the Eiffel Tower, so I can tell myself my motives are utterly unselfish.

“Get changed into something more comfortable,” I tell her when we reach her door. “I’ll drop you off at the Louvre on the way to my meeting.”

Less than an hour later, we’re back in the car, maneuvering through early-evening Paris traffic. The Louvre looms in the distance, the former royal palace, with its imposing façade and iconic glass pyramid.

As we approach, Chloe admires it with a smile on her face. “I wish Dad could be here for this.”

The longing in her voice invades my chest. “Maybe you can come back with him sometime.”

“I’d like that. It’s always nice sharing these experiences with someone.” She turns to me. “I suppose you’ve been before.”

“A few times.” Lips pressed together, I survey the streets around us. “Will you be all right on your own?”

The smile she gives me is sincere. “I’ll be fine.”

Phone in hand, I double check that I’ve forwarded her entry confirmation to her. Since the King family is a patron, obtaining a ticket on short notice was easy enough. As she exits the car, I keep my focus fixed on her. She looks small and alone among the tourists that crowd the area around the glass pyramid.

The car pulls away before she’s out of sight. Halfway to my destination, I’m still replaying her words in my head. “It’s always nice sharing these experiences with someone.”

My plan to have drinks with Jameson is nothing but an excuse. I have no stake in this meeting. And frankly, I’m not overly fond of the man. Spending my evening watching Chloesmile as she takes in the artwork is far more appealing than drinking expensive alcohol while sitting across from someone who doesn’t have anything particularly interesting to say.

I send a message to Jameson letting him know something’s come up and I won’t be able to meet him after all, then direct my driver to turn around.

A short while later, I stride through the entrance of the Louvre, struck anew by the scale of the museum. I’ve been here several times, yet it’s no less a labyrinth of culture and history as it was the first time I visited. It’s less crowded in the evening, but still, finding Chloe might take a while.

It shouldn’t surprise me when I catch a glimmer of pale gold hair in the famous Salle des États, the room that houses the Louvre’s Venetian masterpieces. She’s standing in front ofThe Wedding Feast at Canaby Paolo Veronese, her head angled, body practically swaying toward it as if being drawn closer.

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