Page 97 of Shatter Me

I pad to the marble bathroom, where he's already laid out my favorite Jo Malone products. Of course he has. The hot water eases any remaining tension from last night's activities, and I emerge wrapped in a fluffy robe to find a garment bag waiting.

"You picked my clothes too?"

"A Dior that will be perfect for where we're going." Dmitri adjusts his cuffs, watching me with heated eyes as I dress.

The dress fits like it was tailor-made for me. It is made of dove gray silk, which floats when I move. I pair it with the pearl drop earrings he gave me for Christmas, noting his approving nod.

"Ready?" He holds out his hand.

"For whatever you've planned." I take it, letting him lead me to where his driver waits with a gleaming black Mercedes.

Paris sparkles in the morning light as we glide through the streets, my head resting on Dmitri's shoulder. He's relaxed in a way few people see him, one hand tracing patterns on my knee as he points out architectural details with his usual encyclopedic knowledge.

"First stop?" I ask as we pull up to a familiar courtyard.

"Patience,kulkolka." He helps me out of the car, keeping me close as we enter the Parisian streets. "Your birthday has only just begun," he says.

I marvel at each carefully curated stop on Dmitri's tour. He's chosen all my favorite museums, but is starting with the intimate Musée Marmottan Monet, where we spend an hour admiring the largest collection of Monet's works. The way Dmitri watches me take in each painting, his hand resting possessively on my lower back, tells me he's enjoying my reactions as much as the art.

We wander through the Impressionist galleries at the Musée d'Orsay, housed in the magnificent former railway station. Dmitri surprises me with his knowledge of art history, though I shouldn't be shocked anymore by the depths of his interests.

"The security here is quite impressive," he says as we study a Degas, making me laugh and swat his arm.

"Can you look at anything without analyzing its security?"

"Force of habit." He pulls me closer. "Though I'm more interested in watching you right now."

The Louvre is our final museum stop, where we focus on the lesser-known wings I've always wanted to explore. Dmitri arranged private access to several normally restricted areas, and I try not to think about what favors he called in to make it happen.

As evening approaches, we arrive at the Eiffel Tower. The Jules Verne restaurant glitters above Paris, and Dmitri guides me to a private table with a breathtaking view of the city lights coming alive below.

"The chef has prepared a special tasting menu," Dmitri says as the waiter brings champagne to our table. "Though I made sure to include the lobster you love."

I take in the panoramic view, the intimate table setting, and the man watching me with those intense eyes. "This has been the most perfect day."

"You deserve perfect." He reaches across the table to take my hand. "Happy birthday, my love."

The waiter clears our dessert plates, and Dmitri signals for more champagne. The lights of Paris twinkle below us, a carpet of stars mirroring the real ones above. He's been getting progressively more intense throughout dinner, that familiar focused energy I've come to recognize when he's planning something.

"Walk with me?" He stands, offering his hand.

We take the private elevator to the observation deck, mysteriously empty of other tourists. Of course he's arranged that too. The wind whips my hair as we look out over the city.

"I had everything planned," Dmitri says, turning me to face him. "A speech about how you've changed my life, about how I never thought I could love someone the way I love you." His hands frame my face. "But standing here, looking at you in this light... words seem inadequate."

My breath catches as he drops to one knee, pulling out a black velvet box.

"You've seen every part of me, Tash. The darkness, the control, the obsession. And instead of running, you challenged me. You made me better." He opens the box to reveal a stunning Art Deco ring, the diamond catching the tower's lights. "You're the first person who's ever made me want to be worthy of love. Marry me?"

Tears blur my vision as I look down at this powerful, complicated man who's brought me to the most romantic city in the world to ask this question. "Yes," I whisper. "Yes, Dmitri."

His hands shake slightly as he slides the ring onto my finger, a rare show of vulnerability that makes my heart squeeze. Then he's standing, pulling me into a kiss.

When we break apart, he rests his forehead against mine. "I love you, Natasha Blackwood."

"I love you too," I breathe against his lips. "Even when you're being impossibly controlling and arranging for an entire observation deck to be cleared just for a proposal."

He laughs softly. "Would you expect anything less?"

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