The next day, I was up early, and had a light breakfast in the café in the lobby of my hotel. The Catacombs tour was amazing, and after I stopped for lunch, I went back to the hotel to sleep. I didn’t know why, but I was so tired. After a two-hour nap, I was ready for the walking tour through Paris that night.
As I walked out into the evening, there were traces of the afternoon rain on the sidewalks. The cool smell of a rainy night was still in the air, along with a promise of cooler temperatures as the evening wore on. I ran back to the room and grabbed one of my pashmina shawls and hurried back in order to make it to the tour’s meeting place on time.
When I got there, I gave my name to the woman holding a clipboard and let myself relax. I hated being late. I surreptitiously checked out my fellow tour goers. Most were couples, which was I expecting. This was a city for couples. But there was one—my eyes stopped, and I just stared, all discretion forgotten.
He stood alone, staring off into the distance. His lips were slightly turned up at the corners, and his arms were crossed. Usually, that put people off—it suggested a person uninterested in others. But not with this guy. It showed off his muscular chest, the lines of his muscles visible beneath his dark shirt. His honey blond hair was long, although he’d tied it back neatly with a small black hair tie. I could see that he had well defined biceps, and he gave off the air of one comfortable with himself. His cheekbones were high and defined. The tiny smile showed off curved, full lips. I bet he’d be a great kisser.
Oh, god. I can’t think that way! I’m trying to move past a relationship, and while I was coming around to the idea that I’d dodged a bullet, I didn’t think moving on immediately would be the right call.
But my eyes kept returning to the tall man. He reminded me of a warrior; quiet, focused, on a different plane than everyone else.
Which, of course, made him more appealing. I shook my head and turned to the woman with the clipboard who was beginning to speak. I glanced at the tall man once more and nearly gasped. He was smiling broadly, and it changed his face. He was beautiful. My entire body leaned toward him. He was that appealing, and the appeal was that strong. I forced myself to look away. I had no business doing anything other than look at him, or anyone else. No business at all.
Chapter Two
Sen
I saw the lone woman before she even joined the tour. She had a scent of a mated woman, but there was no man with her. That didn’t mean anything, I’d learned. Men and women coupled here, paired off, but didn’t always mate. Which seemed somewhat sad to me, but I wasn’t the best judge of why humans did the things they did. In fact, it was quite the opposite for me.
So much of what humans did seemed odd, without purpose. But they were often happy and cheerful, and I found that I loved being here, loved being among them. I accepted the strange behavior of those on this side of the veil and had long ago given up trying to decipher the ‘why’ of something. The fact that being here was postponing the inevitable—I crossed my arms and looked away. I wasn’t going to think about that. I was here, in the human realm, and I would enjoy it.
With humans, the why didn’t always matter. The one thing that didn’t change was the females human or fae.
At home, I was Sen, heir to the Mastwood family. I wasn’t royalty, but the Mastwoods had been part of fae society since the beginning. Which meant that there were always females—and males for the women of our family—who wanted to ally themselves with us. Who we were didn’t matter. All that mattered was that we were Mastwoods, and our family was desirable. I came here, to the human realm, to escape the fawning, grasping behavior.
Right now was even worse. I had been stalling. There was no other way to describe it. I’d been in the human realm for weeks now. I knew if I went home, there would be a betrothal happening. Practically before I had time to bathe and dress in formal clothing.
So I stayed here. I’d was almost caught last night—someone had come through a portal looking for me. I’d seen the flash of light that indicated one of the fae using a portal, and I’d hidden myself, using cloaking skills. I did not wish to go home to Fae just yet.
Women here didn’t seek me out for my family name, or what they thought I could do for them. Well, I smiled to myself suddenly, they did want me for what I could do for them, but the things they wanted was far more immediate than a marriage, or alliance. Even though there was a measure of someone wanting something from me, the wanting I found from human women was immediate, as was their gratification. There was honesty that I didn’t find in the world of Fae. It was refreshing.
My brothers thought the physical interaction alone brought me here, but they could not have been more wrong. I loved the human world and their desire to live in the now. They did not have the weight of years ahead of them as the fae did.
I envied that freedom.
Glancing around, I could see the lone female struggling not to look at me. While I was not unattractive, I knew that part of it was the nature of what I was. Humans found fae irresistible. Even the females with males were shooting sidelong glances toward me.
But I found myself interested in the lone female. Humans placed such import on being part of a pair. It was one of their driving forces. She came alone, to a place where couples were more abundant than normal given what I’d seen around the world.
This female had courage. The social norms in this world were as strong as they were in Fae—and they were a burden. She flouted them, in a way, merely by being here. That fact made me take another look at her.
She was tall for a human woman, with dark brown hair. I couldn’t see her eyes, but her lips were a deep pink, even in the low light of the evening, and full, and her face was sweetly rounded. She wore casual clothing and moved easily. She wasn’t completely comfortable—I could see that.
Slowly, not wishing to draw attention to myself, I moved closer. While I found humans endlessly interesting, and enjoyable to be around, this woman was something more.
She had a light floral scent, which I approved of. But underneath it, I could smell her, a warm rich smell that made me think of the sun on a long summer afternoon.
She moved then and looked toward me. I looked away, as though I was paying her no attention. After a moment, I could feel her gaze move away.
Once the tour began, she moved closer to the tour guide, and I kept near her. I liked watching her as much as I enjoyed seeing Paris at night. Her hand kept going to her left finger, rubbing at something that wasn’t there.
We came to the point in the tour that involved stopping at a café. The woman sat at a small table off to the side. I hesitated. I’d enjoyed watching her, but did I want to take that next step? As I debated, she pushed her hair up past her ear and sighed. There was a wealth of experience in that sigh.
Before I realized I’d decided, I was standing next to the table. “Hello. I don’t mean to be pushy, but would you mind if I joined you? We seem to be the only ones on our own.”
She looked up, startled. Her face, a lovely cream shade, pinked at the cheeks as she gazed up at me. “Uh… sure. Please,” she gestured to the empty seat across from her.
I sat down, smiling, and held out my hand. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I’m Sen.”
She took my hand in her own, and for a moment, it was if all the realms exploded all around me. My body reacted violently, overcome with such an ardent desire and lust for this woman that I had to bite the inside of my cheek to focus. I held the smile as her smaller hand curled around my fingers. Her touch was electrifying.
“I’m Calla,” she said.
“Like the lily?” I said, blinking. The flash of light, the bolt of electricity—it had passed. But holding Calla’s hand, touching her—I wanted to be alone with her immediately. Carefully, I let go of her hand, not wanting her to be able to even sense the turmoil raging within me.
She nodded. “Yes. My mother’s favorite flower.”
“That’s very pretty,” I said.
“Se
n is an interesting name,” Calla said.
“It’s a family name,” I shrugged. “What brings you here?”
The waiter interrupted us to ask for our order. Calla ordered tea, and I did as well. It wasn’t anywhere near the sort of tea I drank in Fae, but I preferred it to coffee. He moved away, and I returned my attention to Calla.
“Oh, I’m going through my wish list,” she said, pushing that one lock of hair away from her face again. It kept falling, nearly obscuring one eye. I found myself wanting to brush it away for her, to stroke her cheek. A primal, fierce lust rose in me once more.
I shook my head at her words. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ve always wanted to visit Paris, so I have a list,” she smiled, and her cheeks went pink once more. “Just of things I want to do. There’s so much to see here that I had to narrow it down.”
“It’s a beautiful city,” I agreed. “What else is on your list?”
“I went to the catacombs today,” Calla said.
“I have to confess, that’s not my favorite place,” I said. I didn’t understand some of the human fascination with death. When fae died, we were placed in the ground, so that we might support the land which gave to us all our lives.
“Oh, I loved it,” Calla said with a smile. “There is a quiet grace to all the people who were brought there. When the city was having such a problem with the cemeteries, they could have just dumped all the remains, but they didn’t. Now those people are part of something that is, in its own way, beautiful.”
It was a point I hadn’t considered. I liked that Calla had compassion for those who had gone before, but I didn’t want to dwell on it. “And what are you planning for tomorrow?”
“Mont St. Michel,” Calla replied. “It’s only a couple of hours away, and it’s supposed to be gorgeous tomorrow. I made sure to try to book my tours outside when the weather is cooperative.” She smiled, showing a dimple on one side of her mouth, and I felt the surge of lust for her roar through me once more.
“That’s wise,” I said, allowing myself to smile. I wanted her badly, and while it was difficult to bring my focus onto this conversation, I forced myself to pay attention to it. I didn’t understand why she drew me in as she did. There was no denying that I found Calla extremely attractive. I’d found plenty of human women attractive. There was something different about her, though.
I brought myself back to the conversation. I made a mental note to be at Mont St. Michel tomorrow. Unlike Calla, I could get myself there without the help of a tour group. I wanted to see her again. “As it happens,” I said, trying not to imagine her lying naked with me, “I am going there tomorrow as well.”
I didn’t miss the brightening of her eyes at my words.
As quickly as she’d brightened, she collected herself. “Really? What a coincidence,” she said, looking down at her cup.
“It is, but a happy one,” I smiled more broadly. To be outside, in the sun, near the sea, even if wasn’t my own world, with a woman such as this—my cock was achingly hard at the thought.
“I agree,” Calla said, meeting my gaze now.
We left the café to continue the tour, but I couldn’t have described what I saw, or what the guide said. I walked next to Calla, tortured by the scent of her, hovering around me. Of her pleasure at whatever it was we were seeing. At the underlying air of sadness, mixed with that pleasure, which felt delicious. It was more complex than anything I’d felt on this visit.
My thoughts were interrupted by Calla’s voice next to me.
“I beg your pardon?” I asked.
Chapter Three
Calla
Sen looked down at me with what looked like surprise on his face. “I beg your pardon?” he asked.
His manner of speaking was formal, almost from another era. I found that I liked it. It went along with my initial impression of him as some kind of warrior.
“I asked you if you’d like to get a drink with me,” I said, feeling the heat rise in my face. I was so so glad it was dark, and he couldn’t see what I was sure was a bright red.
Sen looked at me without speaking for a moment, and then said, “I would be honored, Calla.” He reached out and took my arm, tucking it in his. “Where would you like to go?”
“There’s a place near my hotel I wanted to stop into,” I said. “I haven’t had the chance yet,” I added.
“Lead the way,” Sen said.
We walked together for a bit, neither of speaking. The small bar I’d seen as I walked to the tour earlier came into view, and we walked in.
“May I help you?” The woman at the podium asked, her eyes traveling up and down Sen in a blatant manner.
His arm slid from mine, and he put his arm around my waist. “We would like a table,” his voice was deep and almost harsh sounding.
The timber of his voice reverberated through me, sending a thrill through my core, making me remember it had been a while since I’d had sex. With the wedding, I couldn’t remember the last time we’d—I stopped myself. That was the past. This, right now, this was the future. Even if it was just a small piece of the future. I smiled and looked up to see Sen looking down at me with a look that could only be called completely and utterly hot. Smoldering, even. How had I gotten so lucky as to have met this kind of guy my first night here?
The hostess led us to a table, and for a moment, she lingered. Sen ignored her and held my hand as I slid onto the banquette seat. Then he sat down across from me. He looked up and said, “Are you taking the order?”
The hostess blinked, and said, “No, I’m sorry, I’ll make sure that waiter comes right over.” She bit her lip and turned away.
A moment later, a tall young man came to the table and Sen turned to him and ordered in French. The waiter smiled and bobbed his head, hurrying to the back of the bar.
“What did you order me?” I asked. I didn’t know how I felt about him just taking over. Part of me liked it. Part of me… well, I wasn’t sure.
“A Martel champagne with some strawberries and chocolate desserts,” Sen said. “It’s one of my favorite things when I’m here.” He stopped, looking at my face, and somehow, he read what I was thinking. “I wanted to share it with you.”
I felt myself relax. “It sounds delicious.”
Sen smiled, and the intensity of how gorgeous he was hit me all over again. It was so distracting. I could just stare at him without speaking, but I needed to try to talk, be normal. Not focus on the fact that this beautiful man was here, with me. And how badly I wanted to toss off all our clothes and spend the next three days in bed.
“It is,” he said. “There is nothing like champagne and dessert in France.”
I smiled. “Looks like I’m about to find out.”
“So why are you here on your own?” Sen asked. He reached across and took my hand. “Not that I see anything wrong with it, but I’m surprised to meet a lovely woman like yourself traveling alone.”
I sighed. “Do you really want to know?”
“I would not have asked you if I didn’t want to know,” Sen said, a slight frown on his face.
I told him then, keeping it as light as I could. About being on the verge of being married, and how I ended up in Paris.
Sen’s finger stroked my index finger slowly, starting a fire in me that had me shifting my legs together to ease the flames of desire shooting through me.
“He is not worth any further thought from you,” Sen said.
“Well, I know that, but it takes time to let go,” I said, startled by my reaction to Sen into complete honesty.
Sen smiled. “Letting go is easier than you think,” he said.
I laughed. “I hope you’re right,” I said. “I’d like that very much.”
Sen laughed with me, a warm, rich sound that warmed every part of me. Some parts of me more than others, I thought with another laugh.
“What brings you here?” I asked.
I saw the slightest shift in his expression, and t
hen it was gone, replaced by a smile that went all the way to his eyes, which never looked away from mine.
Not even when the waiter came over, bearing strawberries and all sorts of small chocolate desserts, and the bottle of champagne. Once our glasses were poured, Sen lifted his in a toast. “To meeting new friends,” he said.
I lifted my own, not able to stop the wide smile at his words. “To new friends.”
We drank and as I let the sparkling bubbles slide down, I felt something pass through me, something much more than just champagne. I met Sen’s eyes, which stared at me in a way that normally would make me uncomfortable but instead, made me want more.
More of what, I couldn’t tell.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said.
“About why I’m here?” He looked at me over the rim of his champagne flute.
I nodded.
“I needed to get away from my family,” he said, smiling again. But there was something more, something not so pleasant, behind his smile.
I laughed out loud. “I can understand that.”
“I would guess so,” Sen said.
We talked casually then, but the feeling that there was something more happening didn’t leave. When the bottle of champagne was finished, Sen said, “I should let you get back to your hotel.”
While I didn’t want to leave, the tour shuttle was leaving early. “That’s probably a good idea.” I looked up at him. “I don’t want to go.”
His lips curved up at the corners, and I could feel satisfaction rolling off him. At this moment, right here—this is when I decided that I didn’t care if this was a vacation fling. I didn’t care at all. I loved the way being with Sen made me feel. I’d been sitting here with him for less than an hour, and I felt better with him than I’d felt in months.
To hell with it. I was going to see where this went.
Sen rose. “Let me walk you back.” His tone brooked no argument.
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