One Night 3

That settles it. I've fallen right into some kind of weird dream, something too good to possibly be true. That man sitting beside me can't be real. None of this can be. Surely it's nothing more than a fairytale...

He had promised. My English fantasy had promised that we would simply eat our crème puffs, and then he would walk me back to my hotel. As magical as the night had been, I had to start a brand new job in the morning, one I'd moved across the entire Atlantic to take. The field was highly competitive, and I couldn't risk not being on my game, even if the guy who bought me the dessert was sweeter than the dessert itself.

"I want to take you to my home, but I can't," he said.

I bit my lip and forced myself to ask the question. "Are you married?"

"More like...I'm under siege."

I laughed. "What?"

"Paparazzi."

"Seriously?"

He grinned.

Okay, he had to be kidding. We started talking about everything and I swear there wasn't those endless awkward silences. The conversation flowed naturally, both of us laughing and having the best time. We were never at a loss for words. I bet we could talk like this all night long. I could swear that the chemistry between us was off the charts.

My breath caught, my head swooned, I was floating on air, and those pesky butterflies were fluttering in my stomach. I lingered on his every word. I loved the way he laughed. He said and did everything perfectly. He was so sweet, so charming, so smooth, so dashing.

And before we knew it, we had walked up to an apartment complex right on the riverbank. All I could do was stare up at him in wonder as he fished a key out of his pocket and started fiddling with the door. The building was brick, old and with plenty of cracks to show it, covered in a charming blanket of ivy here and there. The broken mailbox dangling from the hinges out front gave it even more character; it was a place that no one would soon forget.

"Do you own an apartment here?" I asked quietly.

"Yes. It's a place where no one can find me."

"A secret hideaway?"

A love shack?

"Yes, but that's not where we're going." He glanced over his shoulder, still fiddling with the lock, and gave me a quick smile as the door opened with a squeal. "C'mon. I'll take you to the roof. The view is simply divine. And I can't wait to kiss you under the light of a million stars."

I smiled. "It sounds romantic."

Laughing and squeezing his hand softly, I followed him up a creaky wooden staircase, past floor after floor of apartments, before we came to a stop in front of a wooden door. I walked through and he locked the door behind us. I blinked around in amazement, holding his hand tightly as he led me onto a moonlit, open-air patio on the rooftop. He put on some soft music from his phone and we both laughed. I smiled up at the bright, twinkling stars that lit the night sky. A cast iron patio set sat in the center of the space, and brightly colored flowers occupied ceramic pots that seemed to sit on every open surface.

By far, though, the most magical thing about the secret little hideaway was the view, one that no travel agency could ever put a price on. It overlooked the entire city and offered a panoramic vision of the river stretched out toward the horizon on the other side, all nestled beneath a blanket of glittering stars.

It's mind-blowing!

"I-I can't believe it," I murmured, wandering as close as I dared to the edge and peering over into the tranquil water just below. "This is so beautiful, like a painting or something. How did you find this place?" I asked, but even as the last lilt of my question fell out of my mouth, I knew I wouldn't get the answer I sought.

Sure enough, when I turned around, my beautiful escort was simply brushing off my inquiry with a casual shrug. He was sitting on a thick fur blanket situated just close enough to feel the warmth of the torches while still offering an unobstructed, breathtaking view of the velvety black canopy above, speckled with diamond-like stars.

"Dessert?" he said, arching his brow.

The second he took the pastries out of the box, a rumble of my stomach let me know just how hungry I really was. I hadn't filled it with much other than alcohol, and just the sight of the dainty and delectable treats made my mouth water in delight.

I sank down beside him with a little grin on my face, then folded my legs beneath me. We both dug into the box with our bare hands. As effusive as his chef friend was, he forgot to include silverware or utensils of any kind, but we didn't care. We laughed a bit as we tried to keep the sweets from falling apart in our fingers as we took little bites. Then, with our fingers sticky and our mouths full, we finally lay back on the furry blanket.

"So...what do you think of our fair town thus far?"

I glanced over at the man lying beside me, then froze completely, breathlessly mesmerized by what I saw. It seemed to be the first clear look I had of him, because the bar was too dusky, the club was too dark, and my eyes had been closed half the time in the alley. Now, though, I couldn't tear my eyes away.

His skin was quite tan for a Brit, though any New Yorker that shade might have considered himself too pale. Of course, it was difficult to tell much about his complexion in the silvery rays of the moon, and those beams seemed to take on a life of their own as they danced in his dark eyes. His hair was almost black, with gentle waves that fell gracefully to the edge of his jaw; it was a bit long but fashionable, a style that would have suited a seventeenth-century poet or a mischievous pirate king. His body was fit for the cover of any magazine, if not an exhibit at the Smithsonian, a physique so ludicrously out of place in the mortal world that I was sure it had to be some sort of colossal joke. His movements and gestures were as smooth as his voice, done with the effortless grace of a man who was very comfortable in his perfect skin, no matter where he happened to be or what—or who—he happened to be doing.

By far, though, the most captivating thing about him was his eyes. I could easily lose my entire self in his gaze, see the whole world in those phenomenal orbs. It was hard to pin down the exact color, but it was somewhere between dark chocolate and espresso and just as rich and sweet and revitalizing as both of those. A twinkle of mischief and adventure danced just beneath the surface, just waiting to be set free.

"That bad, huh?"

His voice jerked me back to the present, and I struggled for a moment to remember what he'd asked me. "Bad?" I said, my face flushing. I shook my head quickly as my senses returned to me. "Oh! No. It's just, uh...a little too soon to tell." I twisted back around on the blanket, locking my eyes firmly on the stars. "It's only my first night."

"Your very first?" he asked in surprise.

I nodded silently.

He leaned back and looked at me with a thoughtful gaze. "We must make it memorable then."

But you already have!