by Ana Ban
Grateful for the change of subject, I responded this time.
“I don’t think I’ve ever really liked art,” I said carefully, not wanting to reveal too much in case Selena was an art connoisseur, “but I would love to see the Louvre.”
“It’s in the plan,” Donovan assured me.
Finally, I turned to him, resting my palms against his chest. “Do we have meetings today, or tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” he told me. “Today is all ours.”
“All right,” I said, pushing away from him to dig into my bag for a change of clothes. “What’s first?”
“We’ll be doing quite a bit of walking,” was all Donovan responded with.
Making use of the prettily antique bathroom, I freshened my makeup and changed into a sundress, which felt neither like my or Selena’s personality, but would help me blend in on this warm day. Braiding my hair over one shoulder, I secured the hat and gave myself a final once-over before emerging.
Donovan had also changed into lighter clothes, khakis and a loose, button down white shirt with the first few buttons casually undone.
I’d never seen him dress so informally, and it gave a whole new air to his personality. For the first time, as we walked through the lobby and onto the streets of Paris, it felt as if we were any other normal couple on holiday.
A small voice in the back of my mind insisted on reminding me of the truth, no matter how much I’d inadvertently silenced it over the last several days.
I was a cop, and Donovan was a criminal I was building a case against to ultimately take down.
Chapter 25
Selena
3 years ago
Searching through my computer, I looked up when Donovan walked in, a wide smile splitting my face. He’d been away for two weeks now, and the plan that had been forming in my mind was not something I wanted to discuss over the phone.
Before I could stand, Donovan marched over, gripped my hands and pulled me into an embrace. Breathless from his welcome assault, I pulled back to cup his face.
“Welcome home,” I spoke gently.
“How has everything been here?” Donovan asked, his arms still wrapped around my waist.
“Fine,” I told him. “The new subs have been running seamlessly. We just unloaded a shipment a few days ago.”
Something in my tone alerted Donovan to my inner turmoil.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He brushed a thumb under my eye, searching my gaze for an answer.
“There’s something I wanted to discuss with you,” I told him, nervous for the first time since I could remember.
Shifting away, I pulled out the crumpled photo from my back pocket. Donovan’s eyes narrowed in on it immediately, knowing exactly what it was. We had no secrets between us.
“I was thinking, while you were away, about how much I missed you, and how much I’d like to be with you. There’s only one way we could truly make that happen.”
Donovan sucked in a breath. I could see the gears grinding away as he quickly sifted through each possibility. “Are you certain? This could be dangerous, for both of you.”
“I don’t care,” I was firm. “I want to be free. I want to be with you. I want to see Paris.”
Chapter 26
Mia
Present Day
We began our adventure by dipping into a Le Grenier a Pain bakery, picking up a bag of pain au chocolats. Soon after we wound our way through the Tuileries Gardens and sat at the outside café, where we ordered fresh-roasted coffee and enjoyed the chocolatey treats.
Since we’d had a rather large breakfast, Donovan and I both stuck to the snack while enjoying the view of the gardens. Though we were on the Louvre property, I had a feeling we wouldn’t be stopping there quite yet.
When we continued walking, we made our way to Notre-Dame, circling around to visit the Pantheon and back along La Seine Riverwalk until crossing back over to our hotel.
Donovan seemed content to go with the flow, stopping at small boutiques and watching street musicians share their craft. Each new sight had me wanting to explore, and I felt I could never get enough of Paris.
The amount of walking we’d done helped me to feel like I’d worked off our meal from the night before, but I was certain Donovan had something extravagant planned for this evening, as well.
In one of the boutiques we’d stopped in, I’d found a slinky black dress that Donovan had delivered to our hotel, so I could wear it for dinner. After picking up the package at the front desk, we went back to the room to get ready.
The first thing I did was get into the shower, sweaty from the day and wanting a few minutes to relax under the hot spray. When I emerged, I wrapped myself in a robe that was waiting on a rack by the door. There were fuzzy little slippers along with it, so I slipped those on to walk into the main room.
Donovan was at the small table near the window, typing on his laptop. He looked up and, with a slow smile, stood to wrap his arms around me, breathing in my clean scent.
“I was just catching up on some work,” he told me, releasing me from his hold and returning to the seat. A bottle of white wine, apparently delivered while I was in the shower, sat chilled in a bucket. “I’ll be calling Bruce shortly, I wanted to wait for you to speak with him.”
Sitting opposite him, I selected a piece of fruit from a platter and took a bite. Reaching over to uncork the wine, Donovan poured two glasses, handing one to me and clinking the rims before taking a sip. I followed suit, letting the flavors roll over my tongue before swallowing.
Studying the label, I realized it was in French and I was hopeless to understand it.
“Wow,” I murmured. “That’s good.”
“I’ve come to the conclusion everything tastes better in France,” Donovan winked at me, pulling up the application for making video calls.
While he connected, I stood with my wine and a cracker with cheese spread to watch out the window. Remembering a famous quote about America being my country, and Paris being my hometown, I could completely understand the sentiment.
Hearing Bruce’s voice over the speaker, I sat back down to pay attention. He gave a quick update on the construction, which wasn’t much different since we’d spoken only a day ago, before Donovan got down to the crux of the matter.
“Contact Tony DeLuca tomorrow, give him our demand. Tell him he has a week to comply, and Selena and I will handle the trade.”
“Consider it done,” came Bruce’s brisk reply.
Once they disconnected, I leaned forward, elbows resting on the table with my hands clasped beneath my chin.
“Is everything else running smoothly?”
“It is,” Donovan answered, closing his laptop. “We’ve good people in place. Our operation can handle us being away.”
“How often do you travel abroad?”
“About every two months, I’ll spend a week or two traveling to meet with clients, or as needed.”
“Do you spend a lot of time playing tourist?”
Donovan shook his head. “Not nearly as much as I would like. Perhaps one day, we’ll be able to travel without business obligations.”
“I’ve enjoyed it all so far,” I replied noncommittally.
Checking the time, Donovan suggested I finish dressing, since our car would be arriving in half an hour. Keeping my makeup to the bare minimum, unlike what Sophia had done to me the night before, I quickly slipped on the new dress that dipped low in the front and had a large bow on the left hip. It was semi-fitted, and felt like a modernized version of a flapper dress. For tonight, I left my hair down and ran the curling iron through it for a few curls. For the finishing touch, I slipped in the earrings that Donovan had given me the night before and more modest heels that I wouldn’t feel like I was about to tip over in at any moment.
When I walked into the main room, I found Donovan, dressed in black suit pants, a crisp white shirt and a full black vest. He’d forgone the jacket tonight, but the result was still drool
worthy, if not more so.
“You are so beautiful,” he told me through hooded eyes.
“Thank you,” I whispered, not sure I would ever get used to his attentions.
Offering me his arm, Donovan led me out of the hotel and into the same car we’d had from the airport. It was a short drive to our first stop- the Eiffel Tower.
Excitement coursing through me, I walked with Donovan towards the main square, stopping to gaze up at the tower now lit against the night sky.
“It’s so incredible,” I breathed, gripping Donovan’s forearm.
Eventually I looked forward again, following the path to enter the structure. Once we were inside, we rose to the second level and exited into Le Jules Verne restaurant. We were seated immediately, right against the window. There was still a tinge of orange low in the sky, and the lights of the city winked at me from the towering height.
Donovan had pre-ordered the six-course meal, and as I nibbled on one delicious course after another, sipping wine a bit more sedately than I had the champagne last night, I barely spoke, just taking in the views from our amazing vantage point.
“You seem to really connect with this city,” Donovan commented, breaking the comfortable silence.
“How could you not?” I returned his question with my own.
He only smiled at that, returning to watching me watch the city below.
After dinner was completed, and I was once again stuffed to the max, we walked around the surrounding gardens, though my attention was constantly riveted to the tower.
When we eventually returned to our car, Donovan told me he had a big surprise for me. With the things he’d pulled off thus far, I couldn’t even imagine what the surprise would be.
Driving back towards the direction of the hotel, we passed it and pulled into the Louvre.
The lot was empty of cars, as the museum had been closed for hours, and excitement built again as I realized we were going inside, at night, with no one else around.
“The museum is closed,” I reminded Donovan unnecessarily.
“I know,” Donovan’s lips tipped up in amusement.
Just outside the entrance, a man in a security guard uniform met us, gesturing us inside. Helpless to do anything but shake my head at Donovan’s magic, I watched as he smoothly passed off an envelope to the guard before we were left to our own devices.
“You really need to explain that,” I stared up at him, wide eyed.
“He’s a business connection,” Donovan said briefly. “He’s told the other security guards that we’re foreign dignitaries on a private tour. They’ve all been well compensated.”
My jaw dropped. The amount of power Donovan possessed was truly astounding.
Chapter 27
Selena
3 years ago
“Mia is already on our case,” Donovan spoke, looking over the rough plan we’d pieced together over the last few weeks. “She’s seen me once, perhaps we should give them a glimpse now and then, to keep them interested.”
Nodding, I added, “There are always undercovers looking to infiltrate our business. We find one or two, make them work for it, but slowly let them in. They will be vital in our plan.”
“I have two in mind. They’re from Mia’s precinct, they’ve been sniffing around our operations for a while.”
“Perfect,” I murmured, seeing the plan come into focus.
“Selena,” Donovan spoke my name gently, waiting for me to face him. “You’re sure about this? Once we put this plan in motion, it will be unstoppable.”
“Yes, Donovan,” I gripped his biceps, looking straight into his eyes. “I’ve thought through the risks, and I accept them. I’m ready.”
Chapter 28
Mia
Present Day
Even though I wasn’t an avid art lover, I could easily spend days in the Louvre. As it was, I wasn’t positive one night would be enough.
We wandered the halls, pausing at some exhibits longer than others, but enjoying each one. When we came upon impressionist paintings, I found myself lingering by each Monet, moved by some emotion he managed to portray in each of his works.
“This makes me want to visit Monet’s Gardens,” I commented to Donovan.
At this he lifted my hand to his lips. “Whatever you want, we will make happen.”
My heart fluttered at his words, and I forced myself to move on.
Sometime in the night, we met with the same security guard, who led us into the basement of the museum.
“This used to be a fortress, and the walls down here are dating back to the 1100’s,” the man, who introduced himself as Michel, gave us a history lesson as we descended.
The dark brick layers were still in amazing condition, and I paused to place my palm against the cool stone. Occasionally along the winding walk, neon letters spelling out sayings in French lit the way. Donovan translated for me at each we passed as we continued to follow Michel back topside.
There was so much beauty in this one place, and when Donovan asked if I would like to continue looking I gave him an unequivocal yes.
I would have stayed until the museum opened the next day, but by the wee hours of the morning, we decided to leave, not wanting Michel to get into trouble. As we made the short drive back to the hotel, I fell asleep against Donovan’s shoulder. There was a fuzzy memory of being led up to our suite, but at some point, Donovan must have simply scooped me up and carried me to bed, because I was out for the count.
After sleeping for only a few short hours, Donovan and I headed to our first meeting of the day.
“We only have two clients to meet with today,” Donovan told me in the car. “The first is with Pierre St. John.”
I nodded, blinking back the tiredness still plaguing me. We’d ordered a quick breakfast of omelets and espressos, and I hoped the caffeine kicked in soon.
The old, white-washed brick building that housed St. John and Son was understated in its elegance. Immediately I could tell the St. John’s were old money, but had not heard of Pierre. Apparently, American tabloids didn’t pick up stories on rich French people as often as rich British ones.
Pierre St. John was in his 50’s, his brown hair streaked with grey in a way that only served to make him more distinguished. His piercing blue eyes were intelligent and his lean build told me he didn’t spend all his time in these offices.
After shaking Donovan’s hand, Pierre offered me his hand. With my gloves still on, I accepted it but didn’t speak.
“Please,” Pierre gestured with open arms to the comfortable leather seats. His accent was very slight, which told me he did a lot of business with English speakers.
Donovan sat while I stood, our normal routine for meetings.
“I heard there might be some trouble in Britain,” Pierre began.
“What trouble is that?” Donovan asked.
“New laws since they’ve annexed themselves from the EU. Has this affected your routes?”
“No,” Donovan answered him. “We’ve no problems there. All the officials have been friendly and understanding.”
Amusement welled up at his statement, knowing that was Donovan’s way of saying he’d found a way to bribe the officials. Pierre understood that as well, and nodded briskly.
“So, what have you come to discuss today?”
After Donovan explained our new routes, we left to continue on to the second meeting. Both client meetings went as smoothly as they had in London, for which I was grateful since I was still not on top of my game and constantly blinking back sleep. Donovan took pity on me, bringing me back to the hotel and leaving me to nap while he worked from his laptop.
As I slept, a dream intruded.
The room was dark, save for several candles showcasing the sharp lines of the man’s physique in their flickering light. He waited for me on a bed, lying on dark red sheets. His wrists were secured, his eyes glued to mine.
Approaching him slowly, I glanced down at feeling an unfamiliar object in
my hand. The long, smooth handle gave way to a flat, two-inch-wide leather piece. Staring at it, an understanding dawned. This was what Donovan had shown me. The ultimate mixture of pain and pleasure. For me, this was about control over my environment, but never over the man himself. Between us, there was nothing but trust. Between us, I was the dominant one, ensuring his pleasure.
Stepping forward, I flicked my wrist up, anticipation alighting my nerve endings. I could feel his hooded gaze as it rested on each part of me, sizzling as if he’d made physical contact. When I brought my hand up to use the device resting in it, suddenly, I felt restrained. Incomprehensible pleasure coursed through my veins, and I arched back, my mouth widening in a gasp, my body beginning to spiral out of control.
As my eyes shot open, the dream morphed into reality as I realized I was being restrained, much as Donovan had been in the dark room. His hands, his mouth were everywhere, overwhelming my senses until I could no longer differentiate between wake and sleep.
There was no time to adjust to the sensations flowing over and through me, Donovan pushing me to the edge again and again with no time to recover. I had no solid ground to cling to, my hands wrapping themselves around their restraints in an effort to anchor myself to this world, this reality.
Dazed and riding yet another wave, I screamed again and this time, Donovan joined me.
After Donovan gently released my wrists, my arms collapsed to the bed, refusing to move. My limbs shook intermittently, my vision blurry and a wonderful haze resting over my thoughts. I felt Donovan at my side, his head pillowed against my chest, and doubted my physical ability to move.
We stayed like that for a long time, the only sounds at first our heavy breathing, lighter as we both came down from our high.
Speaking seemed unnecessary and an intrusion on the moment, so I remained silent. There were no words for what we had just shared.