From Pemberley to Manhattan [COMPLETED]

Chapter 63

FIVE DAYS IN PARIS

Nat

So far so good. We'd been both in our best behavior, doing exactly what we'd agreed on: be friends for now, and then... We'd see. I needed to trust him again, and he desperately needed to be twenty-first centuried once and for all.

Of course, we still had many let's-lose-all-inhibitions-on-top-of-each-other moments now and then, like the time when we went up the Eiffel Tower for the first time. It was fun losing our Eiffel Tower virginity together; me because I had never had the money to go to Paris, him because when he came from the construction of the tower was still decades away.

When we were on its top, it felt like the city belonged to us, like we were the only ones left in it. Had not a group of Australians asked us to take their picture, I believe we would have kissed. And it would have been a Rhett-and-Scarlett kind of kiss. Yes, sir, it would.

We had other almost-kissing situations in the past days, but we'd been holding it together, like the mature adults we were. Like when we took a sightseeing cruise on the Seine, spending the afternoon admiring all enthralling views Paris had to offer.

It was a romantic trip, set up by the people who "worked for Ethan", the kind of cruise that served you fresh fruits and champagne. We'd just passed by the Invalides, with the sun setting, its color changing from bright yellow to deep orange, when we faced each other. I could swear Darcy's eyes were whispering to me in his baritone voice, and they were saying, "You need kissing badly, that's what's wrong with you. You should be kissed and often", while my eyes were certainly begging, "Yes, my blue-eyed Rhett Butler! I need some kissing!"

In that precise moment an intense – and pretty chilly – rain began to fall on our overheated bodies.

Those types of moments were doomed to be repeated tonight, I was convinced. We were going to have dinner at a restaurant in the Quartier Latin of Paris, called Le Petit Prince de Paris, by courtesy of the Professor. Again.

Unable to hold back my curiosity, inflamed by the name of one of my favorite books, I googled about the place, only to find out it was an ancient tavern from the fifteenth century (even older than Darcy!) near the Panthéon, which had changed names and owners over the centuries. It looked romantic and welcoming, not one of those pretentious places.

What Ethan's intentions were with the apartment, the sightseeing cruises, the lovely meals, I wasn't sure. Perhaps, he wanted us to be so busy I didn't have the time to kill Darcy, as Ethan feared I did and requested me, quite convincingly, not to in his letter. Or maybe, what he really wished was for us to get fifty shades on each other. That sounded a lot more appealing to me, by the way.

Anyway, back to the night in question: we'd returned from the Rodin Museum earlier than expected, our dinner not scheduled for another three hours. I decided to take a long bath, using the lavender salts I'd bought the day before. Darcy announced he would take a nap, stating he hadn't slept well the previous night.

Yes, we were still having problem sleeping because of the sexual tension between us. So, if that was Ethan's plan all along, he was doing a great job.

Therefore, it was established Darcy would catch up on his sleep, while I'd be lost in the magical bathtub, catching up with my... Daisy? No, that made me want to sneeze, I was so allergic to daisies. Maybe I should call her my... Kitty? No way! That made me think of those cute cats videos! Well, there was always the chance I'd grow up and call her by her true name...

That was it, then. I'd have a nice, long bath, and would play with my vagi–

Nope, I couldn't. Geez, I was such a phony prude, even in my mind.

♥

Nat

There I was, sleepy in the water smelling like Provence (or what I imagined the region smelt like), watching the sky above me change colors, as day gave its place to twilight and, later, to night.

I'd already played a lot with myself (exactly the way your dirty minds are calculating), feeling so relieved I could swear my skin was glowing. My shoulders had lost most of their knots, and even the tension in my neck seemed to be vanishing.

I was in French heaven.

Until the deafening sound of the fire alarm made me jump from the bathtub, splashing water everywhere. "FIRE!" I flew out of the bathroom screaming, at the same time Darcy hurried in my direction calling "Nathalie!"

We crashed into each other, but he gentlemanly took the fall. We were now in each other's arms, noses touching, hearts hammering against chests, wet skin on warm skin and– wait. A. Shelly. Second. I was wet. Because I'd been having the most amazing bath in my life. And I was totally naked.

I WAS NAKED!

"Darcy, let me go!" I begged him.

"All will be well, Nathalie! I will save you!" He held me tighter. Now my breasts were flat against his hairy chest. Had I mentioned he was shirtless? Oh, yeah!

Snap out of it!

"The noise's gone, Darcy! It must've been a false alarm." I tried to reason with him. Honestly, I was barely breathing, his grip on me getting tighter and tighter. As he paid attention in the lack of a blaring noise, his grip on me lost some of its strength.

"Oh, good." His body relaxed under mine, even though his hands were still protectively around my waist. He began rubbing my back, a caressing, mindless gesture, as if he did that all the time. Until he finally realized our situation. "Miss Nathalie! Oh, God! You are naked!"

Oh, really? The adorable idiot actually sounded offended, as I had attacked him or something. He moved away from me, so I could at long last stand up. Still naked. We were facing one another: me as my mom brought me into this world; him wearing nothing but his hotness and thin boxers, which were now wet and showed how... Proportional he was.

Oh, sweet little mermaid!

His face went pepper red, yet he couldn't stop his eyes from traveling from my head to my toe. Neither could he stop something from growing even larger within his boxers. Wow, Mr. Darcy, we weren't that proportional after all, were we? Fanny would be ecstatic.

"Uh, Darcy?" His deep blue eyes flew back to mine. They were almost completely black by now. "Do you mind closing your eyes?" Seriously, I didn't know if I'd laugh or jump on him, so I decided to do neither.

"Of course. I beg your forgiveness", his voice was seriously hoarse and sexy.

"And don't you take a peek!", I warned him, unable to take the laugh from my voice.

"I shall do my best, Madam", he replied, before his good manners could prevent him.

Welcome to the twenty-first century, Mr. Darcy.

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