Page 73 of One Night in Paris

Giggling, I said, “No.”

“Oh, okay. Well, just tell me when you wake up then,” he said, also chuckling.

Prying my eyes open, I said, “Good morning, babe.”

“Good morning, sleepyhead. Are you ready for some sunlight?”

A groan escaped my lips, but he was being so sweet. “Fine. Let the world in.”

Seconds later, a rush of sunlight flooded my face. Cracking open an eye, I took in one of the most amazing sights in the world—besides the man standing next to the window.

The Eiffel Tower gleamed in the sun as shades of rose and marigold lit the sky behind it. The sun was just peeking above the horizon, the sky not yet turned to azure blue. The sight took my breath away for a moment.

“What do you think?” Logan asked, dropping down on the bed next to me. “Not such an awful way to spend our one-year anniversary, huh?” Reaching up to caress my cheek, he ran his thumb across my cheekbone, lighting my skin on fire.

“It’s amazing,” I agreed. “Every time I see it, whether we’re right on top of it or from a distance, like when our jet landed last night, I’m speechless.” The only reason I would dare tear my eyes away from the magical sight was to focus on the handsome man next to me.

“It is beautiful,” he agreed. “But not as beautiful as you are.” With that, he pulled my face toward him and kissed me gently on the lips.

I moved to deepen the kiss, but he pulled back. “We can’t do that right now,” he warned.

“Why not?” Disappointment flooded me. Even though we’d made love hundreds of times in the last year since we’d been together, I could never get my fill of Logan. He knew how to send me over the edge like no other, and no matter how many times we were together, he found new ways to surprise me and leave me wanting more.

“Because breakfast is getting cold,” he replied. Hopping up from the bed, he headed over toward the door and wheeled in a silver cart full of platters covered with silver cloches.

Our room was huge, so it took him a moment to guide it over to me. “Don’t get up,” he insisted. “You’re having breakfast in bed today.”

Smiling, I felt my cheeks pink. He was so thoughtful and loving. Logan was always doing things like this, thinking of new ways to surprise and enchant me.

With the cart next to me, he pulled off the first lid, revealing strawberry crepes with whipped cream. The rest of the plates contained similar delicious-looking breakfast foods, including French pastries, assorted meats, and creamy yogurt.

Handing me my plate, Logan smiled at me. “What do you think?”

I took a bite and groaned with pleasure. “So good!” I told him, trying not to talk with food in my mouth but failing miserably.

“Great. Coffee?” he asked.

I nodded, unable to speak now that I’d taken another large bite. He poured us each a cup, adding creamer and sugar to mine, and then fixed his own plate.

The two of us sat next to one another in the large, plush bed. The white linens and comforter screamed of luxury, and the pillows were so soft, I’d already decided I needed some for home.

Our home. We’d moved in together a few months ago. I’d invited Mom as well since Logan’s apartment was so big, but she wanted to stay in her house in the Bronx, where all of her friends and doctors were. Once again, we’d had the discussion of whether or not she’d let us buy her a new house, but she wanted to do that herself.

She’d be able to soon. She was making a lot of money now with her arts and crafts. I helped her with her online store in my free time, and she was even able to hire a couple of assistants to get her orders out more quickly. “Made By Ellie With Love” was a booming business, and Mom gave twenty-five percent of her profits to cancer research, which made people want to buy even more.

“Think Mom’s up yet?” I asked, finishing off my second crepe.

“She is. I made sure she got some breakfast, too. When I went into her room to check on her, she was standing on the balcony, looking over at the Tower, a huge grin on her face.”

My heart melted at the image I formed in my mind. She’d been like a little girl when she’d seen it from the jet yesterday. It had actually been her first time flying as well, so Mom had experienced a lot of firsts in a short amount of time. Today, we planned to take her up in the Tower and then to the Louvre. She said she’s always wanted to say hello to Mona Lisa and see if she could make her smile brighter. If anyone could do that, it was my mom. I was so thankful that Logan had wanted to bring her with us. I did, too, but some men wouldn’t want to take their girlfriend’s mother on their one-year anniversary trip.

While we were finishing our breakfast, Logan’s cell phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he groaned. “Nope, not answering that.” He declined the call and put it right back in his pants.

“Who was it? Sam?” Sam was the architect Logan had left in charge of the firm while we were away. This week-long trip was supposed to be work and interruption-free, but I’d told Logan we wouldn’t make it even a day before someone from work was calling him. He’d said he thought they’d make it until at least day two.

By the look on Logan’s face, I could tell I’d won that bet. “Whatever it is, he’ll figure it out,” he replied.

Laughing, I said, “Yeah, I’m sure he will. As long as it’s not the Newark library account. He’s been struggling with that one.”

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