"You're insane," Emily gasps as she steps into the luxurious suite.
The majordome deposits their suitcases into their room with discretion and professionalism and leaves after reiterating his availability should they need anything during their stay.
She'd been more than confused when they had left the busy Parisian ring-road and instead had driven through the city, until they'd reached the Place de la Concorde, where the impressive obelisk stood tall and proud in the center of the square, a testament to the Egyptian civilization and a symbol of Paris' history.
When they'd finally stopped in front of the prestigious Crillon palace, Charles had a smirk etched on his face. It finally had dawned on her that they hadn't gotten lost at all after all.
"How long are we staying here?" she asks as she runs her fingers along the mahogany desk sitting in front of the window, mesmerized by the breathtaking view.
It's borderline ridiculous, considering she'd lived in Paris for three years as a college student, but back then, she was living in what was basically a tiny, cramped but incredibly expensive cupboard under the stairs of a building that had seen better days. She definitely hadn't woken up every morning with a stunning panorama of the French capital.
"Two days. I thought you wouldn't mind a little detour on our way to Rouen."
They had gotten back to Monaco two days prior, after some much-needed family time in Italy. The plan had been to spend the remainder of their holidays in her childhood town, so she'd taken the road early this morning, allowing Charles to catch up on emails. They had stopped for a quick lunch in Lyon before Charles had taken the driver's seat, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on her thigh.
"What's the occasion?"
Their anniversary isn't for a few months, and it's not either of their birthdays.
Charles pulls her in by the waist and presses his forehead against her, holding her close like he hasn't seen her in forever, even though they've been stuck together in a car for the last six hours. Not that she's complaining at all. There aren't many things she likes more than being in his embrace.
"I just wanted to spoil my beautiful, kind, smart girlfriend, in hopes she doesn't figure out she's way out of my league or that she deserves so much better than a guy that's barely ever home."
He's wrong about that. She wakes up every morning wondering how on Earth she managed to snatch such a fine specimen of a man, and she's not even talking about his physique - which, honestly, is out of this world. Charles is exactly the kind of boyfriend she'd dreamed about when she was a teenager - funny, caring, passionate and loyal. It's like God dosed every ingredient just right and then threw an extra spoon for dimples and muscles. She must have done something really, really good in her past life to be so lucky to meet Charles in this one.
"Well, you know me, I'm in it for the money," Emily shrugs, a teasing smile at the corner of her red lips. "Seriously, babe, this is way too much..."
Tinted oak floors adorn the elegantly decorated living room and gorgeous bouquets of blush-colored roses and pale pink peonies brighten up the salon. Given how tight-lipped her boyfriend has been about their short stay in Paris, she wouldn't put it past him to have requested the hotel staff to decorate the room with her favorite flowers.
There's a balcony attached to the contemporary bedroom, with an exceptional view of the Eiffel Tower and the dome of the Invalides. And in the center of the room, what looks like an incredibly fluffy and comfortable plush king-size bed that screams her name.
"Go for it."
She cocks her head to the side. "What?"
"You're dying to do it, so go for it," he urges her.
