By the time I face Nora, she’s already naked, her dress and sandals lying in a heap. I expect her to head toward the bedroom and climb onto the bed. Instead, she brushes past me toward the French doors leading to the balcony.
“Nora, what are you doing?”
“What good are these photos if you can’t tell where we are? All bedrooms look the same. But there’s only one Paris.” She smirks flirtatiously, then steps onto the balcony without a care in the world that she’s naked, that somebody might see her.
It’s official. Paris has infused into her blood.
And I love every second.
I follow her out onto the balcony. A few blocks away, the Eiffel Tower shines brightly against a midnight blue sky. I cautiously glance around, concerned some paparazzi discovered our location and booked a nearby room. But we’re secluded on this balcony on the top floor of the hotel, the night sky offering a curtain not possible during the day.
Swaying her hips, Nora walks toward the bistro table and lowers herself into the chair. She crosses her legs, her posture and confidence reminiscent of Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct. Then she stiffens.
“What am I thinking?” she says playfully, uncrossing her legs and slanting them to the side, crossing them at the ankles. “That was no way for a royal to sit. I really should pay more attention to the rules.”
I can’t help but laugh at the irony. “I’m fairly certain we’re currently breaking every rule in the book.”
“I didn’t see any rule against allowing my fiancé to photograph me nude.”
“Pretty sure it’s an unspoken one covered by the prohibition against indecent or immoral behavior.”
“Are you going to reprimand me?” she asks in a husky voice. “Maybe spank me for being so…naughty?”
“Jesus,” I hiss under my breath, my hands trembling with the excitement of an inexperienced teenager before he cops his first feel. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Hopefully you will soon.” She straightens. “Now, how would you like me?”
“That’s a loaded question,” I mutter under my breath, trying to concentrate on adjusting the aperture and focus on the camera, not the fact that the woman who will be my wife in just two weeks currently sits on the balcony of our Paris hotel room completely naked.
“I’m sure it’s not the only thing that’s loaded.”
I can’t fight the smile crossing my lips. This woman constantly surprises me. I never know what to expect with her, every day a new adventure.
“Come on, Anders. Tell me.”
I inhale, returning my gaze to her, doing my best to switch from horny male to professional photographer. I study the background and ambient light from the city, which casts a glow on Nora’s peachy skin as she sits with her back straight, expression even. There’s almost something…haunting about her.
“Like that,” I answer softly, bringing the camera up to my face and snapping a few photos. “Don’t move a muscle.” I squat, capturing her from a lower angle, the moon highlighting her sinful curves. “Look off to your left,” I say, entranced.
She does as I ask, peering into the distance, her chest rising and falling in a quicker pattern.
“Lift your chin a bit,” I tell her.
Again, she obeys my request, elongating her neck.
“My god, you are so beautiful.”
Right now, with Paris behind her, I see what so many others have commented on since I introduced her to my world. She is the new Grace Kelly. And not simply because she’s an American about to marry a prince, but because she bears a striking resemblance to the actress, especially now as I capture her silhouette. If I put this picture beside one of Grace Kelly, I doubt anyone would be able to tell the difference. Dainty nose, heart-shaped lips, milky skin.
“Hold on.” I quickly straighten. “I’ll be right back.” I hurry back into the room. Opening my suitcase, I grab a black velvet box. I’d planned to wait to give it to her tomorrow, but this is the perfect accessory right now.
Returning to Nora, I hand her the box, to which she responds with a playful look of disapproval.
“You spoil me. You know that, right?”
“If I can’t spoil my wife-to-be and mother of my child, who can I spoil?”
She attempts to reel in her smile, to no avail. When she opens the box, a gasp escapes. “Anders…”
I extend my hand, an unspoken request for permission. She nods. I take the box from her, removing the bracelet.
“Every woman needs a pearl bracelet.” I take her wrist in mine and attach the string of pearls.
“I already have one,” she reminds me.
“True. But this one is made up of all-natural pearls.”
Her eyes widen. “These are all-natural?”
I slowly nod.
“Jesus, Anders. How much did this cost you?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“You’re right. I don’t think I do.”
“Do you like it?”
She admires the glistening stones with appreciation. “It’s perfect.”
“Good.” I smile at her, my heart expanding. “Now, where were we?”
“You were taking dirty pictures of me.”
“They’re not dirty. They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
“You make me feel beautiful.”
She cranes her head toward me. I meet her lips, kissing her sweetly, but don’t deepen it. If I do, I won’t be able to control myself. And I want this night to last forever.
“Come this way.” I help her to her feet, leading her toward the ledge. “Bend a little at the waist and lean on the railing.”
She follows my request, but the angle seems wrong.
“Here.”
I move behind her to reposition her. The second our skin touches, the atmosphere shifts, sexual heat crackling and sizzling. I curve toward her, inhaling her perfume as I smooth a hand down her arm, linking my fingers with hers and moving it farther away from her body.
Then I straighten her so she’s putting her weight on her hands, yet not leaning too far over the railing. Content with her form, I grab her chin and position it so she’s looking down at the bracelet and sparkling diamond ring.
I step back to check her placement, everything about her just so damn perfect, right down to the slight swell of her stomach. I grab my camera, snapping several photos, wanting to capture everything about her. Her poise. Her confidence. Her grace. I’ve never met anyone else like her in my life. I doubt I will again.
“Is something wrong?” she asks once the shutter stops, glancing over her shoulder, her eyes locking with mine.
I set my camera onto the table and walk up to her. I smooth her hair back from her nape and plant warm kisses along her skin.
“I can’t wait another damn second.” I spin her around in one quick move.
She’s not able to get out a surprised gasp before I cover her lips with mine, my tongue tangling with hers. Hand firm on her hip, I steer her back into the suite. She moans into my mouth, running her fingers through my hair. When her nails dig into my scalp, igniting me on fire, I kiss her even harder.
Once we reach the bed, I carefully lower her onto it, my motions quick as I shrug out of my jacket and kick off my shoes. Then I yank my t-shirt over my head before shoving my jeans and boxers down my legs, stepping out of them.