As we came back to the apartment, our sexual tension (she became so familiar to me now, I nicknamed her Nora) was on the top of the Eiffel Tower. We pretended not to notice Nora’s screams of despair, as usual, and went to sleep. All of a sudden, when I was dozing off, Darcy came into the bedroom, shirtless, and with a very impressive protuberance in his shorts.
“I physically need to touch you whenever you’re near. It hurts tremendously not to do so. My heart beats so hard with desire every time I see you, I’m afraid it will escape my chest. I cannot sleep, Nat, with the memory of your soft lips against my own, how delicious you taste, how perfectly our mouths fit.” For every sentence, he took a step closer to my bed, until his knees touched the mattress. “I am certain I will lose my mind if I do not–”
I sat on the edge of the bed with a Ninja move, grabbed his neck and pulled his face to mine, until our mouths found each other. He kissed me hungrily, his hand a fist in my hair, the other pressed against my back, forcing me closer.
My mouth opened to him when I felt his tongue tracing my lips tentatively. He tasted of honeysuckle, the warmth of his hard body making me moan in his mouth. He bit my lower lip and sucked, earning yet another moan from me. Darcy then made a trail of kisses through my jaw, my neck, and my collarbone, effectively giving me goosebumps.
The special place between my thighs sang “Crazy in Love” for him, but unfortunately, he couldn’t hear it out. I was in paradise. When his irresistible lips reached the limits of my nightie, he moved a millimeter away from my skin. “No!” I complained emphatically.
“We are not properly dressed for the occasion, Nat”, he offered me as excuse. As far as excuses went, this was a lousy one.
“What the shell do you mean? What should we wear?”
“That is precisely the issue here, Miss Nathalie”, he was bearing one of his devilish smiles on those perfect lips of his. “We should be wearing nothing at all.”
Oh, Mr. Darcy could be naughty. Nat liked it. A lot.
He found the hem of my nightie and pulled it up, and there I was, wearing nothing but my lace panties. I moved closer, but he held me back by the shoulders, pushing me until I was laying on the bed again. His fingers went to each side of my panties, and he took them off slowly, savoring the moment, his gaze never leaving my eyes.
When I was naked as I came to this world, he took his time admiring me, licking his lips as if I were dessert. Well, you can eat me away, Mr. Darcy. After staring at me like an artist studying proudly (and quite turned on, I might add) a masterpiece he’d just finished, he said hoarsely, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, Nathalie. May I kiss you?”
Flock, yeah! “Sure”, I whispered.
He spread my legs, went on his knees on the bed, and his mouth found the place over the rainbow (in that case, just the spot between my thighs). Holy flocking sheet! It felt perfect! Right there! Oh, yeah!
“OH, DARCY!”
I woke up. Nooo. Had it been just a dream? Wait. Had I just yelled his name out loud?
NOOOOOOO!
♥
48 HOURS EARLIER
NEW YORK
Terry checked his own refletion on a window. His smile was too forced, an indication of how anxious he felt. He was holding a bottle of wine in his hand, hoping Fanny wouldn’t consider it a wrong move on his part.
When he’d called her to tell her he had news, she’d expected to receive it from the phone, not personally. That was his fault; since he got the Gibson case, he’d been working every single night of the past week, and had not been able to meet her whenever he found out something about her friend.
It didn’t help matters that Doug hadn’t been his normal self ever since Nat had broken up with him. He’d been missing work, and, when he was there, he seemed to be too distracted to do his job. Now Terry had discovered what the other detective had been doing while he was supposed to be assisting him with the Gibson case; Doug had been doing his own investigation of Nat’s whereabouts as well.
That was precisely the information he was about to share with Fanny. And he was nervous, for he had no idea how she would take it.
“Hello, there!” She had a grin on her face when she opened the door for him.
He couldn’t help gasping. Oh, dear Lord. Fanny was wearing a short and black leather dress with spaghetti strap, sexy fishnet stockings and black high heels. She was still smiling when she took the bottle of wine from him.
“Hi”, was all he managed, after about thirty seconds of doing nothing but gaping at her. She seemed to find his reaction amusing.
As Fanny took a few steps back, so he could enter her apartment, he thought he heard a noise, something metallic, but his mind was so full of all things Fanny, he dismissed the thought almost immediately.
“You said there was something you needed to tell me…” Suddenly, there was a glass of wine in his hands, and he noticed the bottle had already been opened. How long had he been staring at her?
“Yeah, well…” She poured a second glass for herself, and tasted the wine he’d brought with her eyes closed. Her wine tasting was very erotic. But again, everything Fanny did seemed erotic to him, especially in the past few days. What was Terry about to say? “Oh, of course. I have some good news and bad news. How should I start?”
“Bad news?” She placed the glass on a coffee table near the couch, and walked toward him. Her grin had been replaced by a frown.
“Not really bad. You see, Doug has found out where Nat and Darcy are, and he told me they were safe”, he explained quickly, for Fanny was truly distressed about her friend. She exhaled sharply as she heard the news.
“That’s great, Terry. Where are they? How can I get in touch with them?” They were inches away, and he could feel her breath against his face.
“That’s the bad news, I’m afraid. He refused to tell me where they were. And, about half an hour ago, he asked our captain for a week off, and went to the airport.” He also gave that information quickly, already expecting an explosion.
“Half an hour ago?!”, Fanny asked. When Terry nodded the answer, she finished, “Then we can still catch him at the airport. Let’s go!”
The drive to JFK International airport was fast; still, Terry noticed Fanny didn’t seem to settle in the seat of his car. She was even sweating at some point, which he considered odd, since it was kind of chilly outside and he’d left the windows open.
“Are you feeling okay?”, he asked her once.
“Uh-huh”, she answered, still fidgeting a lot.
He decided to leave her alone, and, as they arrived at the airport, she seemed to be a little calmer. That was, until she stood up. “Oh, God”, she said to no one in particular, and he again asked if she was ill. “I’m great, thanks”, she wiped the sweat off her brow and forehead.
Terry went to one of the TVs to check out the departures, when he heard Fanny yell, “There he is!”
He turned and saw what he believed was Doug’s broad shoulders, but he had already passed security, and neither of them had flight tickets. Fanny, however, didn’t seem to care. She ran to the line for the security checkpoint, passing everyone in it with hushed apologies, and quickly went through the screening machine, which beeped furiously.
“Excuse me! I’m a detective with the NYPD!” Terry rushed to identify himself, when he saw Fanny furious for being stopped by the airport security.
“What about her?”, an angry-looking security asked him.
“Civilian”, Terry admitted under his breath.
“Then we’ll have to screen her”, the big man informed. “Do you have metal objects on you, ma’am?”
“Shit”, she cussed in response, making the security giant frown and Terry surprised. He’d never seen Fanny blushing from embarrassment before! She pulled one side of her dress up, almost showing her panties, then took handcuffs from her
hips. Terry found out where the metallic clicking he’d heard back at her apartment had come from after all.
The unexpected object made the man frown further, “I thought you said she wasn’t a cop”, he said to Terry.
“She is right here. You can ask her whatever you need to know”, Fanny clarified, showing annoyance at being ignored. “And, no, I am not a cop.”
“Then why–”, the security guy began.
“It was supposed to be for him”, Fanny answered before the man finished the question, indicating Terry, who was now on the verge of laughing, for she was almost as red as pepper now.
“Right”, the security guard mentioned, after clearing his throat a few times. “Anything else that might make the machine beep?”, he questioned, not sure if he wanted to know.
“Shit”, Fanny cursed again, pulling the hem of the other side of her hips, taking something in the shape of a–
“Good God, woman! Hide that again, please! There are children here!” Now the security guard was sweating and blushing too, which made Terry want to laugh even harder. This was so good he’d forgotten all about the Nat-and-Darcy-and-Doug drama. “Should I ask if there’s anything else metallic on your person?”
“Well…”, Fanny began, a smirk illuminating her face. Now that she realized she’d embarrassed the guard, she felt the guy was in the palm of her hand. “There is something else, but I can’t show it here. You know, the children and all.”
“What is it?” That time, it was Terry who asked, curiosity and excitement making his blood pulse strongly in his body. The security guard glanced around probably looking for emergency exists.
“Well, there’s a book I read a while ago with these silver metal pleasure balls in it that made me want to try them out”, her wicked smile almost had Terry kissing her right there, at the airport, in front of everyone. By then, the guard had returned to his post, still sweating.
“And where are those balls exactly?” Terry wanted to know, his hands holding Fanny by the waist in a possessive stance.
“In me”, she whispered in his ear, amusement in her voice.
Oh, she was so his future wife.
♥
14 DAYS IN PARIS
Nat
“Morning, Darcy.”
Be cool, Nat. Maybe he didn’t hear you out last night. You just put your pretty poker face on and get done with it, girl!
Maybe I’d been worrying for nothing. There was the possibility I had not screamed his name while he made me see stars in all colors of the rainbow: perhaps, my scream had stayed put in my almost-pornographic dream. Oh, I should so stop being such a hypocrite: it was a total pornographic dream.
“Good morning, Miss Nathalie.” He wished back. He sounded normal, but I couldn’t analyze his face, since it was turned to the kitchen cabinets, as he was preparing our breakfast.
I decided to give another try. Just a small new test, to be sure. Finding out he had heard my yelling (and even moaning) would be thoroughly embarrassing, but not knowing would be worse. “So, did you sleep well?”
“Very well, thank you.” I still couldn’t see his face. “What about you?”
“Yeah, I slept alright.”
“I am glad”, his gaze shot straight at me, the blue eyes bright with amazement. “I hope you had lovely dreams.”
Holy. Flocking. Sheet!
♥
“Someone’s following us, Darcy”, Nathalie wasn’t being paranoid. She wasn’t trying to change the subject either, even though having Darcy tease her about her dream and its hidden meaning was making her blush like a teenager having her first date.
They were walking down a lovely residential street in Chatou, a vibrant town that was once a haunt of impressionists, including Renoir. The small city was a little over six miles away from Paris, and Nat now wondered if their shadow had been trailing them since Paris.
“Who?” The gentleman took her warning seriously; he would never joke when the issue in hand involved Nathalie’s safety. He turned his head right and left, but couldn’t identify anyone too suspicious. All persons from that century seemed suspicious to him in some degree, but none of them looked a hundred percent threating.
“Stop looking! Use your peripheral vision!”, she instructed him as Doug had once taught her. Being with the detective hadn’t being a complete waste of time after all; at least, she now knew how to protect herself.
“I still cannot see the bandit!” Darcy’s neck was rigid, and he was walking like a robot. Nat didn’t believe they were in true danger, as long as there were other people on the street. Still, she didn’t want to risk it.
“Behave naturally, Darcy, or he’ll suspect. He’s on our left, wearing a brown hood.”
“That is strange”, he mentioned as he finally located Nat’s suspect. “Who would wear such warm garments in this weather?” Darcy was right: even though the sun wasn’t scorching hot, and there was even a cool breeze, it was far from cold, and the suspect was wearing a winter jacket. Nat had only a light coat on, and she was already sweaty from walking under the sun.
“Maybe we should call the cops.” Nat feared the man might be concealing a weapon under his jacket, also a lesson from her ex Doug. “We should find a place, like a restaurant or something, full of people, so we can check if this guy’s really following us and then–”
“Americans?” The voice sounded familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It had been a while since Nat had heard the accent from her own country. Her eyes moved in the direction of the owner of the voice, finding a petite brunette in a long, white dress that covered her neck to toe, with a tight bun on each side of her head. She was by an iron gate enclosed by high walls that lined the block.
“Y-yeah”, Nat stuttered. She had yet to recover from the view. Why was there an American woman in that kind of costume in a small city in France? “I mean, I’m American, he’s Brit.” Nathalie indicated Darcy.
“OMG! That’s so great! George”, the stranger yelled to someone beyond the walls from which hung beautifully kept vines. “There’s a fellow American here! And a British too!”
“Well, invite them in!”, a masculine voice replied from somewhere inside, sounding mechanical and threatening, even though his words were welcoming. Before either Darcy or Nat could react, they were taken to a garden just across from the gate.
Darcy was immediately on alert: it seemed they’d accidentally uncovered a secret American operation in French territory. Or, perhaps, it was the effect of watching too many police shows and listening to a Detective talk endlessly about his daily work when they were in the Hamptons.
Aside from the woman who’d just welcomed them (she was obviously a decoy, Darcy figured), the rest of the group was dressed as another world’s soldiers, with advanced looking armors protecting their bodies and unique helmets concealing most of their faces.
One of them distinguished himself from the rest. He was completely dressed in black; a long cape flew behind his back with the breeze, an imposing mask covered his entire head, and his breathing produced a scary noise (at least, Darcy thought it awful). Worst of all: this person, who was probably the troop’s leader, was marching fiercely toward them.
Even though Darcy was not a big fan of the French, he calculated it was a terrible strategy to be involved in an imminent attack with the Americans. Should that truly be the case, Darcy planed on ignoring Mr. Ethan Estevez Brown’s instructions and leave the country as soon as possible.
There was nothing he would do to compromise Miss Nathalie’s welfare. Just the thought of her in the middle of a battlefield made him shake in agony. He held her hand firmly in his and gave it a squeeze, an indication he would not allow any harm to come upon her.
If he must fight their way out of the American lair, he would. He considered his chances optimistically: in the few seconds they were in that secret location, he co
uld observe some gentlemen fencing with some swords that emitted light. Their performance was mediocre at best.
Besides lacking grace, they had almost no technique whatsoever. If the whole group had similar ill fighting skills, they would be able to make their escape with no difficulty.
“Welcome, my friends”, Darcy had been so concentrated in planning his way out he had neglected the leader’s approach. His voice was hoarse, and impossibly grave. “Are you ready for the war?”
♥
Nat
“Would you prefer to be with the Empire or the Rebellion?”
Ethan would have gone nuts at this party. This American couple had just purchased a very chic house in a very elegant town just a few miles from Paris, and what was the theme they chose for their welcome party? Star Wars, naturally.
“The Rebellion, of course!” I was still kind of worried about the stranger following us, but it would be safe here, in a galaxy far, far away. And full of people. Plus, it would be so fun!
“Perfect!” Our host, Michael, who was dressed as Darth Vader, pointed to a group near the grill. “Just go talk to Leo. He’s the Chewbacca. He’ll you give you both something to wear.”
Darcy waited for Michael to move away and whispered in my ear, “Miss Nathalie”, Uh-oh. Darcy was on his I-must-protect-you mode still. “This is absurd! We cannot be a part in this battle!”
Battle? Oh, he hadn’t realized this was merely a game. Great opportunity to mess with him. “It’s all under control, Darcy. We’ll have some training with them in this… compound, then when they’re boarding the starfighters we’ll make our escape.”
“Starfighters?” He was so cute when he was confused!
“It’s kind of modern and very fast ships”, I explained. Still messing with him.
“Ships? You mean to say the battle will take place at sea?”
“Nope. Up there, Darcy”, I pointed up, so he would stare at the sky instead of my face. I was smirking.
“Oh. Is it an aircraft as the Professor’s?”
“Actually, the starfighters go much higher.” His blue eyes widened, and his perfect lips parted. I wanted to bite them, he was so adorable.
From Pemberley to Manhattan Page 18
