Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nikolett looked pissed.
Beautiful, smart, and pissed.
She wore a wrap dress in a deep blue that set off her pale skin and hair. In contrast, her eyes seemed darker than normal. But maybe that was because she looked like a queen about to render judgment. Not just a death sentence but a fitting punishment that ended in his death.
In retrospect, chasing her harco in order to find her probably wasn’t a good idea, but he hadn’t been in the mood for talking and negotiating with her people for half an hour in order to see her.
The response to his arrival seemed extreme, though he appreciated how seriously they were taking her security.
They’d run, so he’d chased.
Elijah would probably want to talk about that. Luckily the good doctor was halfway back to America.
Eric rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off some of the fear-based anger that made his muscles tight. They’d had her sitting right in front of a big glass window. It would have been far too easy to shoot her in the head.
He’d been perfectly calm and reasonable on the way from the airport to the center of Paris, but that had poofed out of existence when Regina told him that they’d accessed the security feed from the building across from the hotel as part of their own pre-arrival security check and reported that Nikolett and Victoire were having dinner.
The image from the security camera showed Nikolett sitting in profile in the window, which glowed with light compared to the darkness of the night. As if she were on a stage.
By the time Eric’s car pulled up, she’d been moved, but he had seen the empty table with the haphazardly pulled-out chairs and panicked.
Regina had told him to wait while she went in and talked to everyone, but then he’d seen Iacob moving at a fast walk, rounding the corner of the hotel, and took off after him.
Now, two French knights were staring at him wide-eyed, Iacob was assessing him coldly, and Nikolett’s narrow-eyed, pissed expression made him want to get on his knees and pleasure her until she forgot to be irritated.
But first, apologize. Acknowledge that the state of their relationship wasn’t his decision to make, and then ask her to have dinner with him.
“Fleet Admiral,” she said coolly.
Not a great start.
“Can we talk in private?”
“No.”
The first stirrings of irritation rumbled through him but he shrugged them off.
“Please.”
“No.”
“Nikolett—”
“Is there a Masters’ Admiralty situation that requires my assistance or attention?”
That wording was painfully deliberate. “No,” he gritted out.
“Then you must be looking for Victoire. I’m afraid I don’t know where she is. If I see her, I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.”
Nikolett smiled, showing all her teeth in an almost-feral expression, and turned, reaching out for Iacob.
He wasn’t sure why, until he realized she wasn’t wearing her cast, or even a walking boot.
He took a step, intending to scoop her into his arms, but stopped himself. He was going to do it right this time. He wouldn’t touch her without her permission or force her to talk to him.
He would, however, manipulate her. That was only fair.
“If you leave, you’ll never know why I’m here.”
Nikolett paused, back to him.
“You won’t find out why I flew all the way to Paris to see you.”
She turned to face him. “I can live with not knowing.”
Eric smiled. “Can you?”
Nikolett took a slow breath. “Unnamed chevalier, Remi, please excuse us.”
Eric snorted in amusement when she called one of the French knights “unnamed chevalier.”
Iacob murmured something to her in fast Hungarian or Romanian.
“No.” The word burst out of Nikolett, her eyes a little wide. “Out here is probably safer.”
Clearly Iacob had mentioned finding a more secure, indoor location for them to talk.
Nikolett wasn’t talking about safe from an external threat, safe from the Spaniard. She meant safe from the bad decision-making they were prone to when left alone together. Safe from doing something stupid like kissing him.
He took that as a good sign. If she was worried about being alone with him, it meant he and his stupidity hadn’t completely killed her feelings for him.
Elijah’s voice echoed in his head. Emotional connection and physical attraction are two different things.
Fine, maybe she didn’t have feelings for him besides anger, but she was still attracted to him, and he’d take what he could get.
Nikolett’s attention shifted from him to middle distance, and from the way she tipped her head, he was sure she was wearing an earpiece. A moment later, she murmured something and refocused on him.
“My security minister has a location we can use.” Nikolett smiled coldly. “Your Spartan Guard will be here in a moment to escort you. Iacob?”
The knight swept Nikolett into his arms. Eric lurched forward, hopeful she’d let him carry her, but they rushed into the hotel before he made it across the garden.
And when he reached the door, the handle refused to turn. Locked.
“Eric,” Regina said from behind him. “Come with me.”
He took a moment, leaning his head against the door she’d gone through and swallowed hard.
Then he pushed up, turned to Regina, and followed her out of the garden, leaving two very confused French knights behind.
They didn’t talk as they walked back around the corner and through the front door of the hotel.
He clocked several French security officers lingering in the lobby, and when the elevator doors opened, Maxim was inside.
Silently he, Maxim, and Regina rode to the top floor.
The hallway had only four doors, and they walked to the one furthest to the left. Maxim knocked in a discreet pattern, then angled his body to block the door. They stood in silence for two minutes before there was an answering knock from inside and the door opened.
The first thing he saw was a beautiful view of the illuminated Eiffel Tower, which seemed to sparkle gold against the dark sky.
Then he noticed the people.
The hotel suite was full of people from both Hungary and France. Most sat at a large dining table beside the window, but a few, including Victoire, lounged on couches and armchairs. A desk in the corner had a plethora of laptops, monitors, and receivers on it—a security command station.
He walked in, frowning, as Grigoris rose to meet him.
Nikolett was nowhere in sight.
Was this an intervention? He didn’t need a fucking intervention. Wasn’t that what therapy had been?
“Fleet Admiral.”
“Grigoris. Where is—”
Then he saw her, standing alone on a balcony off to the right. She still wore the wrap dress, but now she had on a shockingly bright neon open-pattern cast that reminded him oddly of coral. She was standing, a running shoe on her other foot and one hand braced on the balcony rail.
“She’s exposed out there.” Eric started forward, intending to haul her into the relative safety of the room.
“The only rooms with a direct line of sight are ours, and the buildings around us are all too low, or don’t have line of sight.”
Grigoris’ words stopped him mid-stride.
Eric rolled his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I should have trusted your expertise.”
Grigoris’ carefully blank expression slipped into surprise.
Eric had stopped by Victoire, reclined elegantly on the couch, who now reached out to touch his forearm. He looked down at her.
“Some things are meant to be,” she said in a low voice. “But don’t make fate do all the work.”
He blinked, then nodded.
A moment later, Eric stepped out onto the balcony, closing the thick glass door behind him.
Nikolett had turned, both hands on the railing, her back to the glass wall and all the people inside. “They can’t hear us,” Nikolett said when he closed the door behind himself. “The glass is double glazed, and I’m not wearing my communication unit.”
She pulled her hair back with one hand, exposing her ear, her hair held in a messy tail at the back of her head. The sight of her slender, vulnerable neck made his anxiety spike with fear for her even as arousal crawled through his belly.
Eric joined her at the railing. Given they were on the top floor, the balcony was open to the sky, though there was a small awning in the hotel’s signature red that covered the balcony door.
“Do you want to sit?” He glanced at the iron bistro set.
“I feel less vulnerable standing.”
He took a moment to absorb that blow. “You don’t want to be vulnerable with me.”
“Historically it hasn’t gone well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You said that in your text.”
“I’m sorry for the text as well.”
Now she turned to face him. “You didn’t mean what you said?”
“The apology? I meant every word. I’ve been an asshole to you.”
“That was never really in question.” She grimaced. “Unfortunately, I seem to be unable to walk away from the poor treatment.”
That broke him. “Fuck, Nikki.” He braced both hands on the rail and bent at the waist, exhaling hard. “You didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I should have dealt with my shit, my fear, and not let it spill over onto you.”
There was a pregnant silence. He rocked forward, looking out over the balcony. At the red awning under them and below that, the street. It was darker now, heavy clouds having rolled in just in the few minutes they’d been talking.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment. “For the apology.”
A kernel of hope blossomed in him, and Eric straightened to look at her. “And I’m sorry for what I said about our relationship ending. That wasn’t my decision to make.”
She looked surprised. He vowed never to admit that Juliette had to explain it to him.
“You, very clearly, ended our relationship, and I should have acknowledged that,” he finished.
“I ended it?” Nikolett’s eyes widened as a fine mist started to fall.
“Yes. You made it clear that—”
“You forced me to marry your brother!”
Eric winced.