Page 41 of City of Love

My first impression as I look out over the city is that the population density must be astronomical. It’s a weird thing to think, I know, but from up here I can see how crammed together all the buildings are, and most of them seem to be that classic Paris apartment-type building. As far as area goes, Paris really isn’t that big, but there aresomany people living here.

My second, more normal impression is that I’ve never seen anything like this.

“All right,” I say to Noel as we stand next to each other, looking at the view. “I’m going to say something really stupid, and you can’t laugh.”

“Deal,” he says immediately, nodding.

I take a deep breath. “The Eiffel Tower isreallytall.”

Noel smiles, but true to his word, he doesn’t laugh. “It is,” he agrees. “And you never get used to it. I’ve been here several times, and the effect is always the same.”

“I’ve never had any particular fear of heights, but…I get it now,” I say, glancing to the ground, so far below us that it seems to be part of a different world.

“Eh,” Noel says, waving my concern away as he follows my gaze. “It wouldn’t hurt if you fell. You’d be dead on impact.”

My eyes widen as I look at him. “Why would you say that? Why would you think that’s helpful?”

He grins, shrugging. “It’s the truth. Anyway, you wouldn’t fall,” he says, tapping the bars that keep the summit deck completely enclosed.

“I know,” I say. “But still.” I take another deep breath, because somehow the air feels different up here—freer. Like we’ve left the city proper and have entered the territory of the wind.

Which is a little chilly, by the way. Noel was smart and wore a jacket. I did not.

We walk around the observation deck a few times. It’s fairly small and very crowded, and there’s a champagne bar up here—maybe in case you’re feeling fancy? Or in case you want to congratulate yourself for going all the way to the top? I don’t get it, but whatever. To each their own. Either way, we’re still able to get the full 360 degree view of Paris, and it’s incredible.

We get a good fifteen minutes of Marcus-free viewing time before he shows up to rain on my Eiffel Tower parade.

“Beautiful,” he says from behind me, and I whirl around.

“Marcus,” I say flatly. Noel, who was next to me, moves to stand behind me instead.

Marcus’s eyes take full inventory of me, and I fight the urge to cross my arms over my chest as he leers. His gaze feels tainted, leaving me feeling dirty. Judging by the way Noel shifts behind me, he doesn’t like the look in Marcus’s eyes either.

Though Marcus doesn’t acknowledge Noel’s presence, I do notice his eyes jump to him a few times, which makes me feel better.

“You didn’t wear red,” Marcus says, stepping closer to me. The scent of his cologne is deceptively pleasant, but I want to gag all the same.

“No,” I say. “I didn’t.”

“That’s all right,” Marcus says, his eyes dropping to my body once more. He gestures to me. “This is…” He licks his lips. “This is—”

“Let’s talk, Marcus,” I say, because I don’t want to hear him finish that sentence. I know perfectly well what he thinks.

Marcus takes a step closer to me, causing me to step backward. I bump into Noel, but he doesn’t move; he stays where he is, and the heat of his body pressed to my back is comforting.

Marcus’s eyes flit between me and Noel as a sneer pulls at his lips. “You want to send your guard dog away?” he says.

“The guard dog stays,” Noel says from behind me. His voice is silky and dangerous, soft but commanding. It sends shivers down my spine.

Marcus swallows visibly but doesn’t say anything. He just looks back to me and then says, “Give me a chance, baby.” He smiles, and I think it’s supposed to be charming. “I can make you happy, I can make you feel good—”

“No,” I say, cutting him off. I take a deep breath; I’m ready for this. I’ve practiced this speech. “I am absolutely not interested. I told you before, and I’m telling you now:leave me alone.Nothing is ever going to happen between you and me.” I’m not going out of my way to be cruel to him, but I have to make myself as clear as possible.

Marcus’s smile fades into something uglier. He glances to Noel again and then back to me. “You may think that now, sexy”—his eyes rake over me again, and behind me, I feel Noel’s body tense—“but someday you’ll realize how perfect we are for each other. Someday you’ll see. I’m not giving up on you.” His voice is almost soft now, and he sounds for all the world like a man who simply wants to win back the love of his life—so innocuous, and yet in reality he’s so deranged, so toxic.

“It’s never going to happen,” I say, sounding calmer than I feel. My pulse is racing, adrenaline making me jittery, but I speak through it. “If you don’t leave me alone, Iwillreport you. Again,” I emphasize. “So stop texting me. Do you understand?”

He shrugs lazily, and I want to scream. “We’ll see,” he says. Then his look turns icy, and he jerks his chin toward Noel and says, “He won’t always be around.” And with that he turns and walks away, blending back into the crowd.

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