Page 170 of Divine Obsession

I looked back at him, feeling the same look burning into my eyes, filled with unspoken words.

We landed at one in the afternoon. Trevor had the men waiting for us at the airport take our bags to a hotel, while we left in another SUV that took us straight into the heart of the city.

Paris felt like a dream the moment we stepped out into the bustling heart of the city. The sun was shining hot, a soft summer breeze in the air.

Trevor reached for my hand as we began our walk, and for hours, we wandered the cobblestone streets, carefree.

We stopped at a tiny bakery for pastries that were easily five stars. Trevor couldn’t resist the éclairs, and I savored a perfect almond croissant while we sat on a bench, watching people stroll by with their little dogs and bicycles.

The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of landmarks: the majestic Eiffel Tower up close, the hauntingly beautiful Notre Dame, and charming little shops tucked into narrow alleyways.

Lunch was an entirely different level of romantic. Trevor had arranged for a private yacht to take us on a leisurely tour of the Seine. We dined on the deck, enjoying freshly prepared delicacies while the city’s landmarks drifted by – the Louvre, the Musée d’Orsay, the ornate bridges, and the historic facades that seemed untouched by time. I sipped champagne as we floated under Pont Alexandre III, the golden statues glinting in the afternoon light.

By the time we made it to the Four Seasons Hotel George V Paris, I was exhausted. The suite was unsurprisingly luxurious – marble bathrooms, gorgeous French windows overlooking the city, beautiful décor, and the comfiest bed I’d ever laid on.

We had two hours to freshen up and relax before dinner. I took a long bath while Trevor handled a few emails, and when I emerged, several dresses waited for me to pick between them.

Dinner was atJules Verne, the legendary restaurant at the top of the Eiffel Tower. As we ascended in the private elevator, the city twinkled beneath us like a field of stars. Our table was near the window, offering an unparalleled view of Paris at night. The food wasso good– each course a masterpiece of flavor and presentation. We laughed, we talked, and for a while, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

When dessert came, Trevor leaned back in his chair, watching me with that look in his eyes again – the one I couldn’t quite name, but that left me breathless every time. As we gazed out over the glowing city, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the kind of magic people wrote about in love stories.

After dinner, Trevor suggested a walk, and we found ourselves walking along the Pont des Arts, the famous Love-Lock Bridge. Trevor pulled a small silver lock from his suitpocket, already engraved with our initials. When he handed me the key, I paused, looking up at him for a moment. The air between us buzzed, full of something that undeniably felt a lot likeamour.

This time, when he leaned down, I didn’t stop him. My hands came up, pulling him close, holding onto the sides of his neck as he kissed me deep and slow.

Together we fastened the lock to the bridge, the metal clicking softly into place. I held the key tightly for a moment, feeling the weight of what it symbolized, before tossing it into the Seine below, watching as it disappeared into the moonlit water.

Trevor slid his arm around my waist, pulling me close as we stood there, gazing out at the city and the reflections of the lights dancing on the river.

It felt like time had stopped.

In that perfect moment, it was just us and the City of Love.

I laughed as Trevor kissed my neck in the hallway leading to our hotel suite. When I got the door open, I paused, my breath hitching.

The warm, flickering glow of countless candles illuminated the space, their light dancing on the polished marble and casting soft, golden shadows on the walls. The faint scent of roses hung in the air, a trail of petals decorating the floor. It started at the doorway, and led to the suite’s living room, before scattering in all directions.

A blush coasted my cheekbones at the fact that Trevor hadn’t made the rose-petal trail lead to the bed. Maybe he could be a gentleman when he wanted.

“Trevor,” I breathed, unable to take it all in at once. My voice caught in my throat as I turned to him. “This is so sweet.”

He hugged me from behind, his hands circling my waist. “I wanted tonight to be special,” He murmured, his voice deep and smooth in my ear.

I felt my chest tighten, my heart caught between emotions I’d never felt before. “I love it. It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“It is.”

When I turned my face to his, his ebony eyes were already on mine – dark and intense.

I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say.”

He brushed a strand of hair from my face, tucking it gently behind my ear. “I don’t need words,” He said softly, his dark eyes holding mine. “Seeing you like this is enough.”

The intensity in his gaze left me breathless. He took my hand in his, guiding me towards the balcony. The moment we stepped outside, the Eiffel Tower began sparkling again. No matter how many times I’d seen it happen in a night, I couldn’t get enough.

We stood there, in silence, taking it in; him behind me with his arms around my waist.

“Trevor,” I began, looking at him over my shoulder. He hummed, nodding slightly, urging me to continue. “I think I’m ready.”

---