"Thank you for that. I loved it."
"I'd forgotten how it feels to see it through fresh eyes."
She regarded him. "You've spent a lot of time here?"
"Some." He lifted one shoulder. "Not so much in recent years."
He didn't offer further detail, yet Sophie sensed there was more to know. He clearly knew Paris well, but seemed reluctant to be drawn on the subject.
Further exploration would have to wait though, because the car had eased under a stone archway and slowed to a halt in a leafy little courtyard. How could this be nestled so peacefully behind the busy, cosmopolitan street they’d just driven along? Sophie stepped out into the cool morning and breathed in her first real taste of Parisian air. A faint smile tinged her lips. It was probably her fervent imagination, but she thought she smelled coffee, and croissants, and expensive cologne.
Lucien touched her elbow, and she turned to him with the small smile still on her face.
"This way."
He bowed his head towards an old, broad, studded door embedded in the thick grey wall of the building, and Sophie found herself walking into the elegant, shady vestibule of a sophisticated townhouse. Stunning arrangements of white orchids decorated the immaculate space, and when their driver summoned the elevator, something more akin to a beautiful, wrought iron birdcage than a functional lift descended. Sophie held the rail as they shuttled to the top of the building, watching the inner workings of the townhouse slide by outside the curved confines of the cage. Gracious landings. Picture windows.
And finally, the penthouse. Of course.
She knew she ought to be more accustomed to Lucien's idea of luxury, but this place was on another level again. He dismissed the driver and opened the door, and Sophie lingered for a second in the doorway, stopped in her tracks by the sheer opulence of the penthouse. Should she take her shoes off? Lucien placed a hand on the small of her back to propel her inside.
"Go in, Sophie." He hefted her luggage. "Have you packed house bricks in this thing?"
She glanced around at her packed-to-the-gunnels suitcase and then moved into the apartment, swallowing hard at the sound of the door clicking closed behind her.
This was it, then. Paris. With Lucien Knight.
Chapter Nine
"This isn't yours, is it?" Sophie whispered, robbed of her volume by awe.
Lucien dropped their bags down in the lounge. "No. It belongs to an old friend."
Something in the way he said it made Sophie look back over her shoulder at him, but his expression gave nothing away. Whoever the old friend was, he obviously wasn't going to elaborate.
Sophie could deduce for herself that their absent host was incredibly wealthy. The vast, high-ceilinged reception room had picture windows looking out over the city, complete with a postcard perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, and the chic interior decor screamed opulence. Marble tiles. Floor-to-ceiling heavy, dull gold silk drapes. Glittering glass chandeliers. Muted gold and duck-egg sofas and low glass coffee tables with more of those artfully displayed white orchids. The florist for this building clearly worked overtime. It was all so achingly glamorous, like walking onto a film set. Sophie crossed the room to a tall pair of gilt filigree doors, and when she opened them she found an intimate dining room for two leading out onto a balcony offering yet another panorama of the magnificent Eiffel Tower. She turned slowly back to Lucien.
"Wow."
Lucien nodded. "You should see the bedroom."
"Bedrooms, I hope?" Sophie corrected him quickly. She already felt like a kitten in a lion's lair. She needed a private sanctuary, preferably with a lockable door.
Lucien's eyes all but glazed over.
"I keep my promises Sophie." He led her to another set of double doors at the end of the reception room. "Your bedroom." He slid the doors back to reveal a sumptuously appointed suite, dominated by a bed large enough for four adults to stretch out like starfish and still not touch. Tranquillity meshed seamlessly with sensuality in the decor; with its opulent linens and grand mirrors, it was a room that promised the best of whichever activity you choose to use it for.
Lucien opened another door. "And my bedroom."
By any usual standards the room was stunning, but it was definitely the secondary bedroom of the penthouse.
"You can take this one, if you like?" Sophie gestured towards the larger room.
Lucien shook his head. "You'll change your mind when you see your bathroom."
Curiosity won out, and Sophie padded back through her room to open the glass sliding door to the bathroom. Yet again, she found herself stunned into momentary stillness.
"Wow again."
She sensed rather than physically felt Lucien come up behind her. His voice sounded suddenly very close to her neck.
"Quite something, eh?"
Pale marble and polished mirrors lined the large room and more huge vases of orchids adorned the side tables. Plump, snow-white towels nestled alongside gleaming bottles of exclusive toiletries, and clusters of lit candles lent the room an intimate glow.
The piece de resistance stood centrally in the room - the grand, deep infinity bath, perfectly placed to take advantage of the expansive view through the windows at the end of the room, across the higgledy-piggledy rooftops of Paris.
"Still want to swap?"
Sophie shook her head, suddenly greedy and giddy. This place was off the scale amazing, and she, Sophie Black, had it at her exclusive disposal. That had to make her just about one of the luckiest girls on the planet at that moment.
She spun around to face Lucien, her hands pressed against her warm cheeks.
"I can't believe places like this even exist beyond fantasies."
She didn't miss the predatory spark in Lucien's eyes at her choice of words.
"As fantasies go, this is certainly up there," he murmured. A shiver ran down Sophie's spine as surely as if he'd stroked a fingertip down its length.
Not that he had, or would, unless she invited him to.
Did she want to issue that invitation?
She didn't just have the fantasy room in the fantasy city.
She had the fantasy man at her disposal, too.
She upgraded her status from being one of the luckiest girls in the world to being the luckiest girl, period.
But lucky didn't mean stupid. Lucky didn't mean throw caution to the wind and not think about tomorrow, because tomorrow had a nasty way of looming up in front of you, grey, cold and all the worse for your indiscretions. Sophie had been there before.
She ducked past Lucien into the bedroom and unzipped her suitcase, which he had hefted up onto the bed for her.