by Jen McConnel
The waiter did the same thing with the napkin for Hunter, who looked relaxed as he smiled at me from across the table. Then the waiter gestured to the window. “We sail at seven, monsieur et mademoiselle. The first course will be served once we are at sea, so to speak. In the meantime, would you like anything to drink?”
Hunter gestured to me, and I bit my lip. “A glass of red wine, maybe?” Shauna and I drank from time to time at parties, but I had no idea how to order drinks in a restaurant. I wondered fleetingly if I was even allowed to drink in France; didn’t they have a lower drinking age than in the United States? Twenty was old enough, right? I mean, I was practically legal back home, so it shouldn’t matter here.
The waiter cleared his throat. “Might I recommend Château de Boeuf?”
I glanced helplessly at Hunter. He smiled at the waiter. “We’ll take a bottle.”
“Very good, sir.”
After the waiter left, Hunter reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “This really has been a perfect day.”
I smiled. “It’s almost too good to be true. Thank you.” I hesitated. “I mean, thanks for dinner and everything.”
He frowned. “What makes you think I’m paying?”
I froze, and Hunter burst out laughing at my petrified expression.
“I’m kidding, Camie. Jeez, you sure can’t take a joke, can you?”
I felt a whisper of irritation, but I ignored it. “Of course I can,” I said, “just not about money.” I glanced around the boat nervously. The dining area had started to fill up, but we weren’t sailing yet. “Isn’t this awfully expensive?”
Hunter shrugged. “Probably. But it isn’t every day I get to take a beautiful girl out to dinner in Paris.”
I beamed at him, relaxing a little bit. I tried to match his light, flirty tone. “It isn’t every day I get to kiss a handsome guy in Paris!”
Just then, the waiter appeared with the wine. He turned the bottle toward me so I could see the label, and I nodded at him, not sure what he was doing. He repeated the ritual with Hunter, and then he produced a corkscrew from thin air, opened the bottle, and poured a small serving of wine into a glass. Hunter lifted the glass and sniffed it while the waiter poured my own baby portion. Watching Hunter, I picked up my glass and tried to imitate him. Why was he swirling the wine around like that? I swirled a little too much, and a splash of red wine jumped onto the white tablecloth. I set the glass down and sat back in my chair, embarrassed.
Finally, Hunter nodded to the waiter, who poured two generous glasses of wine, ignoring the crimson stain next to my wineglass. He corked the bottle, set it down on the table, and vanished before I had time to ask for a glass of water.
Hunter raised his glass to me, and I did the same. “Here’s to the universe!”
I laughed. “Here’s to a French affair.”
Hunter raised his eyebrows, and I blushed. Where did that come from?
“Adventure. A French adventure.” Hastily, I tried to backtrack, but as we clinked glasses, Hunter’s eye glinted at me hungrily.
“I think affairs are adventures,” he whispered seductively before bringing the glass to his lips. “Besides,” he smiled at me, “I did promise you the perfect night.”
My pulse sped up, and I took a huge swallow of wine. “So far, so good.”
Chapter Fifteen
A bottle and a half of wine later, the first course finally came. About the time the boat had been gently drifting down the river for twenty minutes, the waiter reappeared with two steaming bowls of creamy soup. By the time the next two courses had come, we’d killed off the second bottle of wine, and I couldn’t stop giggling.
“What’s so funny?” Hunter slurred, leaning across the table and almost putting his elbow on his plate.
“Everything! Oopsie, be careful of the food.” I gestured to his arm, feeling a little woozy as I moved my hand. God, I hadn’t been this drunk in a long time.
Hunter looked down and carefully slid the plate out of the way. “I am having such a good time with you.”
I smiled stupidly back at him. “Not as good as me. Er, I.” I giggled. “Me, myself, and I.”
Hunter smiled and opened his mouth, but the waiter chose that moment to reappear. “We’ll be back to the dock in a half hour, monsieur.” Gracefully, he set the bill down beside Hunter and headed off to another table. Hunter turned it over and stopped laughing.
I sank into my seat, feeling queasy. “How bad is it?”
He looked up at me and smiled again. “Doesn’t matter. Didn’t I tell you I’d treat you like a princess?” Casually, he set his credit card on the bill and pushed it to the edge of the table.
“I’m sorry; I can pay for some of it, really.” I was babbling, but I didn’t care. “I mean, you shouldn’t have to pay for everything if it’s really expensive.”
Hunter shook his head. “What’s your problem with money?” He spoke slowly, as if he were choosing his words carefully, but his tone was sharp.
I fiddled with my napkin. “I don’t know. I just don’t have a lot of it, you know?”
“You never have money when you’re a student.”
“But now I don’t even have my scholarship. I’m going to be paying off my debt until I die!” It popped out before I could think, and I sat back, embarrassed.
Hunter’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
I pushed my chair away from the table and stood up unsteadily. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
“We’re on a boat. There’s nowhere to go.”
Embarrassed, I sat back down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He shrugged, speaking slowly and slurring a little. “Okay, but whatever it is sounds like it’s really bothering you. You can’t even enjoy an awesome meal.”
“I am enjoying myself! Really. This is perfect.”
Hunter blinked. “Perfect except for whatever’s on your mind about the scholarship.”
“Can we not talk about this? Please?” I reached for his hand clumsily, knocking over my empty wine glass in the process.
His face softened. “Of course. What do you want to talk about instead?”
Feeling bold from all the wine and desperate to change the subject, I leaned over the table. “What about what we’re doing next?”
“You aren’t tired?” His eyes glinted with possibility, and warmth spread through my stomach.
“Not if you aren’t.” I challenged back. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was just Paris, but I suddenly had no hesitations about Hunter. I was ready to go all the way.
“Oh, princess, trust me. I’m not tired . . . yet.”
Before I could think of a sexy reply, the waiter reappeared. “Thank you very much, sir,” he said, depositing Hunter’s credit card back on the table. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”
Hunter looked at me. “I’m pretty sure I will.”
My skin started to tingle, and heat spread through me. This was going to be a night to remember.
Chapter Sixteen
I woke up alone in an unfamiliar room. For a minute, I had no idea where I was or what had happened, and then hazy, wine-covered memories from last night drifted through my mind. Hunter. The boat. Oh God. When I looked down, I realized I was completely naked. Clutching the white sheet tightly to my chest, I sat up and looked around the room.
It was small and crowded, with a twin bed, a dresser, and a desk mashed into a space that felt smaller than my dorm room. Hunter was nowhere in sight, but I blushed when I saw a discarded pair of boxers and jeans on the floor beside the bed. Where are my clothes? Taking the sheet with me, I got out of bed shakily, but when my feet hit the floor, my head started to pound and my stomach lurched. Clothes suddenly became less important than throwing up, and I was looking around frantically for a trash can when the door to the room opened and Hunter poked his head in.
“Hey are you awa—oh God, don’t throw up on the floor!” He hurried across the room and guided me into a small b
athroom that I hadn’t noticed. I barely had time to be embarrassed before I lurched over the toilet, emptying the contents of my stomach. Hunter held my hair back from my face, but when I was done, I didn’t really want to turn around and look at him. I stared into the toilet for a second, and then I pulled myself to my feet. I felt wobbly, but I tried to steady myself.
“Feel better?”
I risked a glance over my shoulder at Hunter. He was standing a few feet away from me now, watching me intently. I pulled the sheet tighter around my body and nodded. The motion made my head hurt more, so I froze.
“I’ll get you some aspirin. Want some water?”
I nodded again, trying to keep the motion small, but the room started spinning. “I think I need to sit down.”
Hunter led me back to the bed, and I sat down, not looking at him. He leaned over and kissed my bare shoulder gently, and I stiffened. He didn’t seem to notice. “Poor baby. I’ll get the drugs and the water. And maybe I’ll bring you breakfast in bed.”
He left the room before I could tell him that I didn’t want to do anything else in his bed, especially not eat. The idea of food made me nauseous, but I fought back my gag reflex and tried to take a deep breath. What had happened last night? I scanned the room, and finally I spotted my dress tossed casually on the floor under the desk. It looked like we’d taken our clothes off in a hurry, and I cringed.
Had we had sex last night? How would I even know? I didn’t feel any different; wasn’t it supposed to hurt? Warily, I glanced at the bed. Wasn’t there supposed to be blood?
Hunter came back in. “What are you looking at?”
I reached for the water and pills he handed me. “Um, nothing. Thanks.”
He sat down beside me and slid an arm around my waist. “No problem. I’m sorry you’re paying for last night now.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Um. About last night . . .” I risked looking up.
Hunter’s eyes brightened, and he leaned forward to kiss me. At the last second, he must have remembered I’d just thrown up, because he just planted a warm kiss on my cheek. “Last night was perfect.”
“Perfect.” I echoed, wondering just what he meant. “Um, in what way?”
“You don’t remember?” Surprise flickered across his face.
I decided to be honest. “The last thing I remember is leaving the boat.”
“Oh.” He removed his arm from around my waist.
“What happened?”
He held up his hands. “I had no idea you were too trashed to remember, or I wouldn’t have . . . we wouldn’t have . . .”
My heart flopped over, but given what I could remember about last night, I had a pretty good idea where this was going. “So, we had sex?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat.
Remembering our day of making out and the warm sensations that had been coursing through me during dinner, I didn’t doubt him. I just didn’t remember a thing about my first time, and that realization made me choke up.
Hunter looked panicked. “Oh God, Camie, I’m so, so sorry! Seriously, I would never take advantage of you. That’s not what happened.” Agitated, he got off the bed and stared down at me.
“I know,” I managed to get out, “that’s not what’s wrong. I trust you.”
Hunter didn’t relax. “Then why are you crying?”
I sniffed, trying to get a grip on myself. “It’s just that was . . .” I trailed off. Should I tell him? God, what would he think? Mutely, I shook my head.
“It was really good.” He spoke tenderly, but I noticed he didn’t sit back down or come any closer to me than he had to. “Really, really good.”
I nodded. I wanted to believe him, but I didn’t remember a thing. “Did you, you know, use a condom?”
He nodded. “Three.”
“Three?” Was that some weird kind of super-protection thing?
“Each time.”
My mind reeled. “You mean we did it more than once?”
Hunter nodded. “You were really into it.”
A sob welled up in my chest, but when I opened my mouth, it sounded more like a loud hiccup. “That’s good to know.”
Hunter seemed to take that as permission to sit down again, and he bumped my shoulder with his. “You’re quite the wild thing, aren’t you?”
God. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Why the hell couldn’t I remember anything? “Uh-huh. Hey, didn’t you say something about breakfast?”
He nodded. “You sure you’re up to it?”
“Let me get dressed first.”
Hunter headed for the door. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”
I crossed to the desk and slid my dress on as fast as I could. I couldn’t find my bra, but my underwear was with the dress, and as I stepped into the panties, I felt a twinge of pain in my hips. Huh. So that’s what it feels like. Hunter was back before I really had a chance to take stock of my body, carrying two plates heaped with food.
“What’s all this?”
“There’s a kitchen downstairs. I made you breakfast!” He grinned proudly. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I made a little of everything.”
“Everything” seemed to include scrambled eggs, toast, a flaky pastry, and three strips of bacon. I grabbed the pastry and nibbled on it. “You made all this?”
“Well, that I got at the patisserie. But yeah, I made the rest.”
It was really sweet, but I was still too freaked out to enjoy the fact that a guy had just made me breakfast. Another first.
As soon as I finished the roll and the toast, I set the plate down. “I’m not that hungry.” I stood up, and Hunter looked up in confusion.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my hostel. I want to shower and change.”
His face cleared. “Oh, right, of course. Where should I meet you later?”
“Later?”
“I thought we could do some museums today; it looks like it’s going to rain.”
Did I want to spend more time with Hunter? Yesterday, the answer would have been a resounding yes, but now I wasn’t sure. Everything was suddenly all jumbled up, and I was shy and embarrassed after everything that had happened. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess museums sound good.”
“Want to meet in front of the cathedral again in a couple of hours?”
“Sure.” I inched toward the door, but before I could leave, Hunter stood up and embraced me. His arms felt too tight, and I hugged him back awkwardly.
“See you soon, princess.” He kissed the tip of my nose and smiled down at me. I waited for the butterflies I’d been feeling yesterday to start fluttering, but I just felt dizzy and mildly nauseous.
“See you.”
I made my way downstairs and out onto the street before I realized I had no idea where Hunter was staying. Everything on the street was unfamiliar, and I looked around in confusion for a minute. How was I going to get back to the hostel?
A blue-and-white car pulled up to the curb, and the driver stuck his head out the window. “Taxi?”
Relieved, I nodded. I slid into the backseat of the car and winced at the feeling of the sticky vinyl on the backs of my knees.
“Oh, so pretty! You are my sweetheart, yes?” The cabbie winked at me in the rearview mirror.
I looked away. “Um, thanks. Can you take me to the Latin Quarter?”
“Of course, anything for you.” His accent was thick.
I leaned back on the seat and watched the city roll by, fighting the desperate urge to cry. The cabbie kept up a constant stream of chatter, and finally I tuned in to what he was saying.
“You are the most beautiful girl to get in my car. Will you have a drink with me?”
I forced a laugh. “It’s not even noon.” I actually had no idea what time it was, but it felt like morning, so I stuck with that.
“Well, then, how about lunch?”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“What about coffee? Surely, you have tim
e for a cup of coffee?”
I started to feel uncomfortable. “No, thank you.”
“Well, at least tell me your address so I can see you to your door.”
The guy was getting really pushy. “Just anywhere in the Latin Quarter is fine.”
“There is a beautiful café there. Won’t you please join me?”
I tried to keep my tone light. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“For you, beautiful, my work can wait.”
My skin was crawling. Maybe the guy was just flirting, but suddenly, I didn’t feel safe in the cab. “Can you drop me off here?”
“But we are not even at the Latin Quarter yet!”
“That’s okay. Here is fine, please.”
“There’s a good place for coffee a couple streets over. Why don’t I take you there, instead?”
“No. That’s okay,” I struggled against my instinct to scream and run, desperate to be polite in case I’d just misunderstood the man. “Please drop me off here.”
He pulled up to the curb, but after I paid him and got out, he put the car into Park and hopped onto the sidewalk. “Please, beautiful, just one cup of coffee. What harm can it do?”
I was really starting to freak out. “No, thank you.” I turned my back on the car and began to walk away.
The driver called after me, “You Americans! Always so rude. It’s just one cup of coffee. My treat.”
I started walking faster, but I resisted the urge to glance over my shoulder and see if the driver was following me. After I’d rounded a corner, I risked a look back, but I was alone on the street. I let out a sigh of relief, but I kept walking quickly. Between my hangover, the thing with Hunter, and the creepy cabby, my nerves were shot. Breathing heavily, I rounded another corner, and I caught a glimpse of the top of the cathedral over the buildings ahead. I rushed toward it, suddenly overcome with the sensation that everything would be all right if I could just reach Notre Dame. If anyone had ever needed sanctuary, it was me.
Chapter Seventeen
Even though I really wanted to go back to the hostel and shower off everything that had happened since last night, when I reached the cathedral, my steps led me inside the massive structure once more. I took a seat on a wooden chair in the back of the church, and everything caught up to me. The driver. Hunter. My French walk of shame. I hung my head in my hands and started to cry silently.