The Thrill Is Gone

It was love at first sight. The moment she laid eyes on Paris was the moment it captured her heart. The busy streets, the architecture, the atmosphere, the language – it was all beautiful! It was all so perfect that when they exited the train station and the photographers swarmed them, Paulina didn’t feel the need to rush into the awaiting vehicle to be rid of them. She just sort of stood there, admiring the buildings across the way. They were simple shops, nothing grand like museums or important residences, but there was beauty in the old buildings, in their curves and arches, and their distinct look was enough to amaze Paulina. She couldn’t help but just stand there and admire its character, and smile as she felt the cool Parisian breeze on her face.

The world around her had ceased to be. All that existed was Paris. All that mattered was taking it in.

Paulina wasn’t the first to be taken in by its grandeur. Many before her had found themselves in a similar position. They had gotten off trains, disembarked boats, left airports, and had – in their turn – found Paris before them. They might have seen Paris during considerably different time periods, but the effect it inspired within them was very much the same, it was awe. How they had managed to live their lives without having ever been there before, was beyond them. It felt as if they’d stepped into a dream, a realm in which anything was possible. Their senses were heightened, their passions ran wild. Paris had placed a spell upon them, completely freeing the romantic within each of them. Paris had implanted part of itself into their very being, and no matter where they went from there, no matter where it was they would return to, it would remain there forevermore.

There were some that attempted to capture their love of Paris with the printed word, others that tried to express their love via music or art, but none of that quite captured the essence of the city of light, none of that did it justice.

And as Paulina stood there, staring at the buildings across the way, she couldn’t help but think that all the movies she’d watched, all the photographs she’d seen, and all the novels she’d read regarding Paris, had failed to capture the very essence of the city. Paris had a character that could not be properly translated onto a canvas or page or screen. It was a living, breathing thing that one could explore for years, without ever truly being able to do justice in describing it.

From his place beside her, Harry watched Paulina with curious eyes. He’d never seen her so in awe of anything. Even at Buckingham Palace she had seemed composed. Granted, she hadn’t been allowed inside the palace, the grounds were the only place she was given access to, but even then, she’d seemed unaffected by the grandness. She had been much calmer at Buckingham Palace than she had been at Chatsworth House. At Chatsworth, she had praised the artwork and the architecture, she had marveled at the beauty of the old building, but she hadn’t been anywhere near as taken with it as she was with Paris, and she’d only just stepped out the train station. He couldn’t comprehend why she was so captivated. It wasn’t like she was staring at the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre. She was looking at an old building that housed shops. That was it. At least, that was all he could see, but had he been able to see through her eyes, he would’ve seen a charming old building that housed quaint shops.

“Paulin, love,” spoke Harry above the noise. “Love, we’ve got to get going. We can’t just stand about all day.” He paused, hoping that his words would be enough to snap her from her daze, but they failed to do so. “Paulina!” he said a bit louder, squeezing her hand lightly. “We’ve got to leave.”

“Leave?” Paulina asked in a soft voice. “Leave where?”

“To the hotel,” he replied. “Or are ya planning on standing here all night? I reckon the press won’t mind, what with your standing about for them to take pictures.”

“I'm not standing around for them to take –” she stopped short when she finally became aware of her surroundings, of the photographers that were snapping pictures and calling out her name. “How long have I been standing here?” she asked, doing her best to ignore the photographers.

“Long enough,” was his reply. “I reckon they’ve enough shots of you to last the trip. So let’s get going, yeah? Or else they might get a bit too chummy.”

“Hah. Like that’ll ever happen.”

“Well it might if ya keep standing about like you’re posing.” Harry teased as they began to walk. “It was like you were putting on a photo shoot for them, just standing about and all.”

“I didn’t do that on purpose.” She told him. “I was just . . . just admiring the buildings.”

“These aren’t even anything grand.”

“Nothing grand?” she repeated, and stopped walking. “Look at its style. The structures that are employed! The arches, the curves! Oh, it’s a beautiful old building. They don’t make them like this anymore. Now everything has to be sleek and modern, vertical and unbending. Decorations are kept at a minimum, because they serve no function other than to add character, but I don’t think there’s nothing wrong with ornaments being there strictly to add character and beauty, and . . . oh hell, I sound like Rudy. Don’t I?”

Harry nodded.

“That’s what I get for reading his old architecture books and obsessing over old buildings.” She ran her free hand through her curls. “I want to say that I'm not going to be like for the entire trip, but that’d be a lie, because we’re in Paris! And the old buildings are calling me.”

“Just so you know it won’t all be old buildings.” Harry stated as they once again started walking towards the car. The press was giving them a buffer zone of two feet, which Harry was grateful for. Though he knew they were only doing it because of his mother’s final experience with the press in France. “We’ll be going around some fairly news ones over at Parc Disneyland, though that won’t be until our fourth day here. I reckon you’re quite keen on getting all the basic sightseeing done before we move onto that.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, her eyes full of wonder. “We’re going to Disneyland?”

He nodded, pleased with her reaction. “I reckon since you like it so much, we ought to go. I’ve not been in ages.” He hadn’t been since his mother took him, and that had been at a Disney Park over in America. “But I reckon it’s time I pop by.”

“It is!” exclaimed Paulina. “Oh, it’s gonna be so fucking rad! I'm not sure what the layout at this Disney Park is like, but if it’s anything like the one in Anaheim then it’ll be awesome. And they’ll have the massive princess castle, because every Disneyland has to have a princess castle, that’s mandatory, and – ah!” she couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles. Her happiness was getting the best of her. “We’re going to walk around Paris and go to Disneyland. These are three of my passions all jumbled together!”

“Three?” asked Harry as he stepped aside so Paulina could climb into their awaiting vehicle. “Disneyland and Paris are only two things.” He said as he climbed in beside her. “What’s the third?”

“You,” she replied, grinning brightly. “I get to walk around Paris and Disneyland with you. And that’s very fucking rad.”

“Is it now?” he smirked, pleased with himself. “Well, just wait and see what I’ve in store for you. There’s loads more fucking rad things coming up.”

“You’re not gonna tell me what you have planned, are you?”

“I already told you about Disneyland. I reckon that’s enough for now. And as much as you complain about being impatient, I happen to think you’re keen on surprises. So get ready for them. We’ve a week and a half all to ourselves.” He unbuckled his belt, and started inching in closer, he wanted her lips on his, to have their first kiss in Paris, but Paulina turned bright pink and shook her head. “What’s the matter with you?”

“We’ve got company,” she told him, motioning with her eyes to Sanjeev and Gethin.

“They don’t count.” Harry said, dismissively. “Sanjeev and Gethin see nothing and hear nothing. That’s their duty as security details.”

“Maybe that’s true and all, but I don’t feel comfortable going at it around them like we do in front of Kamal or Alistair,” she said in a low voice. “And even then, we don’t really even go at it all that much. Does that make sense? I hope it does. I don’t know. My mind’s all over the place right now. It’s just trying to take everything in, and I think we should hold off on that until we get to the hotel.” She paused, briefly. “Is that where Kamal is?” she asked him.

“He is.” Harry confirmed. “He came out yesterday to check everything out, secure the room for us, and to set things up. Alistair had wanted Kamal to be one that traveled with us, thought it’d be ideal since Kamal’s the acting head of security, but in the end, they decided that his securing the hotel would be more important. Since Kamal had to get in touch with the local authorities to ensure the necessary surveillance would be on hand.”

“Wait. What?”

“What do you mean what?”

“I mean what’s going on with the local authorities? Are we gonna have a police escort on top of your personal security detail?”

He nodded. “We are.”

“But we don’t need a police escort. Sanjeev, Gethin, and Kamal are more than capable of taking care of us. They’re three highly trained men! And there are only two of us, Henry. There are three of them, and two of us, so I honestly don’t think we need a police escort to look after us. We’re good.”

“I happen to think we do.” Harry stated. “Paris isn’t as safe as you seem to think it is. Not for people like us. They’ve enacted legislation to deal with the paparazzi, but though it works with celebrities and the like, it doesn’t work with our sort.” His voice grew strained. He felt himself becoming a child again. “And I need to keep you safe. Alright?” it wasn’t a question, not really, his tone of voice made it perfectly clear that he’d already made his mind up. They were to have a police escort and that was final. “I'm not risking having anything happen to you while we’re here.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” she assured, taking his hand in hers. “I’ll be fine. We both will.”

“I know we will.” He told her. “And we’ll be fine, because we’ll have some police looking after us. Don’t try to fight me on this, love. I'm set on having a few officers follow us about. It’s not like we’ll have them clearing the road for us in their cars, they’ll be discreetly to the side of us, dressed as civilians, just to keep an eye on us, and to make sure everything’s fine. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but being a royal can be dangerous. So it’s better if we take certain precautions. So just trust me on this, yeah?”

“I do trust you. It just seems like a bit much.”

“Love,” he said in a serious tone. “You know I'm not one to fret. Fussing about and worrying, that’s what you do, so if I feel inclined to be a bit of a worrier, I think you should indulge me it. So how’s about that?” he asked. “Indulge me a bit. Let this ginger be the one that thinks ahead.”

“As you wish,” she said, softly. “You get to worry.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more pleased to have to fuss about. S’alright though. I'm quite good at it, even though I’ve made a habit of avoiding it.” He stretched his arms out over his head, and let out a loud yawn. “Fucking hell, I'm knackered. I reckon we might have to have a lie down when we get to the hotel.”

“A short lie down?” she asked. Paulina didn’t want to nap, not when there was so much out there to explore.

“No. Actually, it’s going to be quite a long one. I fully intend to sleep through most of the day.” He said with a straight face. “We’ll go out when it’s dark. Then again, we can spend the rest of today at the hotel, and get started with the sightseeing tomorrow, that way we can get used to our surroundings.”

“Then again, you can spend the day sleeping and I’ll just get a head start on the sightseeing.”

“That could work,” said Harry. “Except that you’re meant to have a lie down with me, so ya have to stick around.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.” He nodded. “You know I can’t get to sleep without having your mumbling lull me to sleep.”

“So my mumbling’s a lullaby now. What happened to it being a pain in the ass?”

“Oh. It alternates. Some days it’s a lullaby, some days it’s a pain in the arse. You know. It likes to switch it up, but today is definitely a lullaby day, so you’ve got to stick around or else I won’t get any rest, and I’ll end up being a right git.”

“Well then I guess I have no choice but to nap with you,” she fought back a smile. “But only for an hour. We’re not going to waste the day by sleeping. There’s so much to do, so much to see! We need to go to the Louvre.”

“You know, when you say things like that you make me think I'm dating an elderly bird.”

“Why?” she laughed. “Young people are into museums.”

“Not as much as you seem to be,” teased Harry. “I reckon you might be more excited over museums than going out drinking and clubbing here. Bloody hell! You are. Aren’t you?”

“You make it sound like its blasphemy.”

“It is!” exclaimed an amused Harry. “How can ya prefer a museum to getting proper smashed at a French disco?”

“It’s not that I'm not looking forward to drinking and dancing, you know I always am, but the thing is, we can drink and dance anywhere. The Louvre is only in Paris. The priceless works of art within it are only available here, so yeah, I'm a little more eager to explore through there, but that’s gonna be during the day, güerito. And at night, we’re gonna hit the clubs as hard and as long as you like.”

“Is that so?”

She bit down on her lip and nodded. “The days are mine. The nights will be yours. How’s that sound?”

“Like you’re not thinking clearly, but that’s brilliant to me.” Harry joked. “And just so you know, I’ve already made arrangements at the museums. We’ll be having private tours.”

“No way!” she exclaimed.

Harry laughed. “We will. I figured since you’re into that sort of thing, we might as well have the best giving our tours. None of those public group tours for us. Ours will be done right, so you can all those questions I'm sure you’ll be keen to ask.”

“You’re so getting fucked when we get to the hotel,” she blurted out, eyes burning with a mixture of lust and adoration.

Harry was taken aback by her words. She never spoke like that in front of the security, not even Alistair or Kamal, so he knew that she wasn’t thinking when she said that, that the words had slipped out.

“We won’t have to wait long until then, love. The hotel’s not far. Once we get in, we can shag like you seem so keen on.”

Her cheeks burned bright when she realized what she’d said. Her hormones and emotions had gotten the best of her, and all she could do was try not to seem so embarrassed or else Harry would tease her to no end.

“So where are we staying?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Hotel San Regis,” replied Harry.

The hotel in question didn’t belong to luxury chains like The Ritz or the Marriot or the Park Hyatt. It wasn’t located on a high traffic street. It didn’t boast hundreds of rooms. The Hotel San Regis was a 19th century mansion house that had been renovated to play the part of a small luxury hotel where guests would be able to have a discreet sanctuary during their stay in Paris. It was because of the privacy that the hotel would afford them, that Harry settled on the San Regis over the larger hotels that celebrities and members of the aristocracy favored. Harry wanted her to have a truly enjoyable Parisian experience. He wanted to stay somewhere that wasn’t overly done up by global investors, that would try to make the hotel look like a standard luxury hotel instead of a truly Parisian one. Because what was the point in going to Paris if the hotel they stayed at was going to look exactly like on in London? Harry wanted somewhere quiet for them, somewhere the staff would be personable and attentive to her, and the San Regis was the luxury hotel that completely met his requirements. So that was the one he booked for the week. He booked the entire top floor, which consisted of two large suites, one that would be inhabited by him and Paulina, and the other that would serve as the quarters for the security detail.

And when they pulled up to the hotel, Paulina immediately fell in love with the San Regis. It was Paris at its finest, there was an elegant wrought iron marquis at the entrance to the hotel, a beautiful touch that called to mind years gone by. She was taken by its exterior, and as she marveled at it, the doorman stepped outside, eager to welcome the arriving guests. He was a handsome man in his mid-thirties, who was well mannered, and obviously given his position because he was as helpful as he was charming and pleasing to look at. He bowed his head politely to Paulina, welcoming her in French and then English, and then gave a more respectful bow to Harry, whom humored him with a smile.

The inside of the hotel was even grander than its exterior. It was furnished with exquisite antiques, and everything from the drapes to the accents on the tables, cried classic Parisian luxury. Paulina couldn’t help but walk through the lobby with a look of awe on her face. It was like she’d stepped into a dream or a movie set. Everything was just so beautiful, so rich in color and texture that she couldn’t help but suspect that at any moment, Sidney Bechet was going to waltz into the lobby, and start playing Petite Fleur or Promenade aux Champs-Élysées.

She explored the lobby on her own, not that she minded. She enjoyed being left to her own devices to look around. That way she didn’t feel bad about making someone else wait for her, because when she was swept up in her own little world, she forgot all about time. While she explored the lobby, Harry met with the hotel manager and hotel security staff. Since the hotel was small, there were only two guards on duty at any time, and although Kamal had already met and coordinated with them, Harry still had to exchange a few words with them, for form’s sake. Kamal and Sanjeev stood at Harry’s side as he conversed politely, and thanked the manager and guards for accommodating them. Gethin was charged with looking after Paulina. He followed behind her at a considerable distance, so as not to unnerve her, but when his mobile began to ring, he was immediately noticed by her.

Quick as he could, he silenced his phone and turned the ringer on vibrate. It was a text message from his boyfriend. He’d understand why he wouldn’t respond right away. He was at work, and couldn’t tend to his personal business.

“You didn’t have to ignore it,” she told him. “Go ahead and call them back.”

“I am afraid it wasn’t work related, Miss Balcázar.”

“I know it wasn’t.” She smiled. “If it was work related, you would’ve answered right away, but seriously, feel free to call them back. I’m just looking around the lobby. I won’t get into any trouble. I promise.”

“It can wait until later, Miss. Thank you.” Gethin replied.

“Alright then,” she said, and then went back to staring at the artwork on the wall. The art, though pleasing to look at, no longer held her attention, not when their security detail that she didn’t know anything about. Her natural curiosity and friendly nature took over. She wanted to get on better terms with Gethin. “Have you been to Paris before?” she asked, turning to look at him.

“Pardon?” he wasn’t sure if he’d just heard her make an attempt at small talk or if his mind was playing tricks on him.

“Have you visited Paris before?” she asked again.

“Yes, Miss,” he answered politely. “I’ve had the pleasure of visiting Paris several times this year.”

“Does that mean you’re a Francophile?”

“No, Miss. My partner is.”

She wasn’t sure as to what form of partner Gethin was referring. Was it his work partner, the one whom he shared his duty of protecting the royal family with? Or was it a romantic partner, a boyfriend with whom he shared a life? Deciding best not to make any assumptions she mentioned Adrian and Thomas.

“Your partner has very good taste then. Personally speaking, I fancy myself a Francophile, though I think my Anglophile side wins out by a little bit.” She paused, taking the moment to take a stray curl behind her ear. “My older brother, Adrian, he and his partner are massive Francophiles. They were actually supposed to vacation here last year, but they ended up visiting me in Oxford. It was great though. They got to explore England, and they enjoyed themselves. But now that I think of it, they could’ve just been saying that to make me feel better. Hmm, I don’t think that was it though, then again – sorry! Sorry, I get to rambling sometimes. Okay not sometimes. It actually happens quite frequently, you’ll pick up on that in the time you’re stuck with me. Hopefully I won’t annoy you to bad.”

“I do not believe you capable of doing so, Miss.” Gethin replied politely.

He had to say that. She knew he had to. As a security detail to Prince Harry it was Gethin’s duty to be polite to Harry’s guest, and although she knew that, she couldn’t help but giggle a bit. She was very much capable of annoying people. There was no questioning her capabilities of that. She could annoy people by talking on and on about books and programs she was obsessed with or by talking politics nonstop or by playing with her hair while she watched television. She could annoy people just as easily as anyone else, and to be told that she was incapable of doing so, was hysterical.

“Have I offended you?” inquired a concerned Gethin.

“Not at all,” she said between her giggles. “It’s just . . . I think it’s hilarious that you said you don’t think me capable of annoying you. I know you only said that to be polite, but it’s still fucking funny. Oh shoot. I really shouldn’t be cursing in public. Sometimes the words just slip out though. Thankfully that hasn’t happened around the press or else I’d –”

“Miss Balcázar.” Kamal spoke, closing the distance between them.

“Kamal!” exclaimed Paulina excitedly. “There you are! I was wondering where you were hiding. How are you?”

“I'm quite well, Miss. I thank you for asking. And you, Miss? I trust you had a pleasant trip?”

“Always with the Miss,” Paulina mused allowed. “I don’t think I'm ever gonna get you or Alistair to call me by my name instead of Miss.”

The corners of his lips hitched slightly upwards, stopping just short of a proper smile. “We are quite set in our current ways, Miss.”

“I know you to are,” she said, still smiling. “Though it’d be nice if you weren’t, then I wouldn’t feel like an old lady.”

“Us calling you Miss makes you feel old?” questioned an amused Kamal.

“I know it shouldn’t, because it’s youthful, but it’s so formal for everyday use.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement when she saw Gethin shoot Kamal a questioning look. It was obvious that he wasn’t used to guest of the royals being so friendly to them. “So how was your day in Paris? I hope you got to enjoy yourself out there.”

“Truth be told Miss, I'm not keen on Paris.” Kamal replied.

“The city doesn’t suit you?” she asked.

“It’s more along the lines of the entire country. No offense to you,” he told Gethin. “I know how you and Didier feel about Paris, but I'm not keen on it at all. I prefer my England to it, thank you very much.”

“My goodness, you are the stereotype.” Paulina commented. “You’re the strapping Englishman that can’t stand the French.”

Kamal chuckled. “I believe that is one way of describing me. That reminds me, Miss. His Royal Highness wishes for you to accompany me to meet the hotel manager and security staff.”

“He does?” Paulina couldn’t see why he would. She didn’t have anything to discuss with the staff.

“Yes, Miss Balcázar. He does indeed. Would you please be so kind as to accompany me to him?”

“Yeah, of course, I will. Um, you can stay here if you want, Gethin.”

“I am to be your personal security detail, Miss. So I think it best if I accompany you.” Gethin responded.

“Wait. You’re going to be my personal security detail? Like exclusively for me?” Paulina couldn’t believe that Harry would’ve gone as far as to get her personal security, she thought that she could sneak off if she wanted to while Harry was taking a nap later on in the week, because she knew that he wouldn’t want to keep up with everything she’d want to do. “So if I go somewhere off by myself, you’re going to have to go?”

“Yes, Miss. That is correct. I am to ensure your safety.” Gethin told her in a polite tone.

“Damn. I honestly wasn’t expecting that. Harry hadn’t told me. Then again he did say he was going to have police providing security so it should’ve been obvious that he’d want me properly looked after. Um, well, it’s an honor to be protected by you, Gethin.” She held her hand out for him to shake, and after a moment’s hesitation, he did. “I know we’re going to get along really well.”

“I believe so as well, Miss.” Gethin replied, politely.

She smiled brightly. “Well then, I guess its time we follow Kamal over to meet with the hotel security.”

“Right this way, Miss.” Kamal began to lead them in direction of the office where Prince Harry conversed with the hotel manager and security staff.

“You know, I can’t help but think that at this rate, Harry’s going to end up having me driven around in the popemobile.” Paulina said as she followed Kamal.

“I believe an Anglican version of the popemobile would be constructed for you, Miss Balcázar.” Kamal joked with a straight face, causing Gethin to questioningly cock his brow.

Gethin wasn’t accustomed to such familiarity. In his duties as a royal security detail, he had often been assigned to Beatrice and Eugenie and to Prince Andrew, but though they were polite, they weren’t necessarily as friendly as Paulina was. They kept the distinction between them and the staff very clear, as did their friends and acquaintances whenever Gethin went out in public with them, so to see Paulina talking to Kamal as if they were old friends was incredibly unusual. He had, of course, heard from the other security details that she was very personable, but he hadn’t expected it to be to such a degree.

“Hmm, now that I think about it, they would have one made. And it’d probably be flashier than the Pope’s just to rub it in their face.” She ran a hand through her curls. “Kamal? How long do you think the meeting with the staff’s going to take? Because I really just want Harry to take his nap already so we can get up and go sightseeing.”

“Do not worry, Miss. The meeting is not meant to take long. Five or so minutes, I believe, should suffice for the necessary conversation to take place.” Kamal fixed his cuffs as they neared the office. “The manager and security simply wish to introduce themselves to you, to go over certain security protocol, as well as to inform you of safety features present in the hotel. It will be a very brief conversation, since all necessary security information has already been given to myself and will be shared with Gethin and Sanjeev when His Royal Highness and you are safely inside the suite.”

“Oh okay. I’m pleased to hear that, but I'm curious as to whether they speak English. I mean, I know that Harry is fluent in French, so I was thinking that maybe he’s communicating with them in their native tongue. I actually don’t know about you since you said that you dislike France, but I was just wondering so I can prepare myself,” she rambled awkwardly. “Obviously, I can’t learn French in the short time it takes to walk from here to there, but I don’t know . . . I'm rambling now. Sorry!”

“There is no need to apologize, Miss.” Kamal reassured. “The hotel manager and security personnel are all fluent in English. And although His Royal Highness is currently carrying on the conversation in French, the moment you are introduced it will switch over to English. Also, if at any time you find yourself in need of an answer to whatever question it is you have, you can simply ask them without fear of not being understood. One of the young men that comprise the security team has a rather thick accent, but I do not believe there will be any issue in communicating with him. But if for some reason there is an instance in which you are unable to understand the security personnel or make yourself understood by him, then Gethin will be honored to assist you. He is fluent in the language.” Kamal turned to Gethin. “Isn’t that right, Gethin?”

“It is indeed.” Gethin confirmed. “It will be an honor to act as translator for you, Miss.”

Before Paulina could say anything to Gethin, Kamal spoke. “Stand guard while I escort Miss Balcázar.” He then turned to her. “Miss, please do come this way.”

The beveled glass door which acted as the entryway to the office was only a short distance from them, nothing more than three or so feet. It amazed Paulina how elegant and luxurious a simple door could look, the mahogany wood, the beveled glass, and the ornately decorated brass door handle gave it an air of grandeur that though not surpassing that of Clarence House, still held a certain importance and timeless quality. Everything in the hotel seemed to be from another world, wherever her eyes went she was greeted by an object that was strongly reminiscent of an age gone by, of the time when the great American writers and musicians came upon Paris to lose themselves completely in the city of light.

There, standing on either side of the door, were two security details, young men whom appeared to be in their mid to late twenties. Their posture had that form that only individuals with a military background possess, and their faces held that decided look that was among security details. They were constantly taking in their surroundings, analyzing everything and everyone, and the moment they saw Paulina, they ascertained her importance, and bowed their heads accordingly, both having been ordered to be respectful and attentive to Prince Harry’s girlfriend. They were to treat her as they would him.

“Please do escort Miss Balcázar inside.” Kamal instructed. “I shall stand guard at the door as you see to your duties.” Without waiting for them to respond, he turned to Paulina. “Miss Balcázar, please do follow them in. They will see to your safety.”

She was tempted to laugh. He was making it sound as if they were going to escort her through some war torn county where she could get shot or kidnapped, but all they were actually going to do was walk her inside of an office. That was it. It was a simple thing to do. There was no true risk to it. Yet they treated it as if there were a great risk to her personal safety. One walked ahead of her, the other at her side. It was all a bit much in her opinion, but she went along with it to humor them. The one that stood in front of her was the young man that opened the door, and then announced that Paulina had arrived. It was after he had announced her name that he moved aside so she could walk into the office where both Harry and the hotel manager, a man by the name of Claude Thiellaud, stood awaiting her.

The moment she stepped inside, Harry rushed over to her and took her hand in his. It was obvious from the look of relief on his face that he was glad to have her there with him. The hotel manager, though a well meaning man, had begun to test Harry’s patience. He kept praising him, kissing his ass, and going on and on about how much of an honor it was to have him stay at his little hotel. And though Harry was at first grateful that the hotel manager was so clearly making himself available to them for whatever they needed, and so clearly happy to have them staying there, he couldn’t help but become a bit annoyed at Claude’s going on and on for nearly ten minutes about how much of an honor it was and how he hoped that the hotel would prove itself a sanctuary for future trips to Paris. A few words would’ve sufficed, but no, just like all the other hotel managers that Harry had ever conversed with, Claude thought it necessary to praise him longer than he deserved to be praised. And when Paulina walked in, Harry knew that she would be able to humor the man better than Harry. She had a way with people, a charm that endeared her and made her appear interested in whatever conversation was being held, even if the conversation in question was the sort that she simply wanted to tune out.

“Paulina, love,” said Harry as he led her towards Claude. “I would like to introduce you to our most gracious host, Monsieur Claude Thiellaud.

“Monsieur Thiellaud,” spoke Paulina in a soft, pleasant tone. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She had stretched out her hand to shake his, but Claude caught it gently, and turned it so that he could place a kiss atop the lightly tanned skin. Paulina was momentarily taken aback by the gesture. No one had ever kissed her hand. Not ever. So naturally, she turned to look at Harry for some sort of confirmation that that was alright protocol, but she didn’t find any confirmation when she looked at him, Harry was far too busy stifling a laugh.

“The pleasure is entirely my own, Señorita Balcázar.” Claude warmly stated. “It is a true honor to have this humble hotel of mine to be the chosen residence of His Royal Highness and your utterly breathtaking beauty. The tabloids do not do you justice, Señorita. Nor how could they? I daresay that there is not a camera in the world that could translate your beauty and its splendor.”

“You are far too kind, Monsieur.” Paulina smiled demurely. It was best to seem humble. Humble people were better liked than those who expect to be praised. Lady Fellowes taught her that. “The greatest beauty here is that of your extraordinary establishment. Your hotel is absolutely breathtaking. The structure, the furniture, the artwork – it is positively enchanting! Had I not known any better, I would have thought myself transported to the thirties.”

Claude’s face lit up at her praise. As a hotel manager that was passionate about his establishment, nothing pleased him more than hearing his hotel praised.

“Your praise is most generous.” He spoke, trying and failing to seem unaffected by her flattery. “I am pleased to hear that the attention to detail we place here at San Regis is being appreciated. I view this hotel as a sanctuary, a quiet, relaxing space in the ever busy city of light.”

“That is precisely what is it.” Paulina smiled more brightly. “Though I feel we must apologize for the press that has followed us, the last thing we wished to do was inconvenience your other guests.”

“There is no need to apologize for there has been no inconvenience. None that has not been able to be seen to with ease. The guests have been informed of the honor that has been bestowed upon them by your company, and there have been no incidents since your arrival, or since the arrival of your security detail. Nor do we expect there to be any. Your safety, Your Royal Highness and Senorita, are of our upmost concern.”

Claude then took the opportunity to inform them of the necessary security precautions that had been taken in order to ensure their safety. He took longer than Kamal had estimated, and by the end of it, Paulina was tired of smiling and paying the necessary compliments she had to pay. She had been trained by Lady Fellowes in how to act the part of an amiable, respectable companion of a royal. Some of the things she’d been instructed to do often caused Paulina to mentally laugh, but the advice was solid, and it always worked. So she kept on her charm until Claude personally escorted them to the top floor where Harry had rented out the two suites for their holiday.

The room was every bit as beautiful and luxurious as Paulina had imagined it would be, but what she loved most of all was the view from the terrace. Outside their room there was a private terrace for their own particular use, furnished with a small breakfast table that seated two, and from there, she could see the Eiffel Tower in all its glory, towering over the rest of Paris, and commanding the attention.

“Fucking hell . . .” she whispered under her breath. “I'm really here.”

“Of course you are.” Harry spoke from beside her. “What’d ya think? This is all some sort of dream?”

“Well, yeah,” she admitted, slightly embarrassed. “No offense, but this hotel in Paris with you, that’s . . . that’s kind of what dreams are made of. I'm sure there are girls all over the world that are probably dreaming about this very thing, and I . . . I'm actually here, and I can’t believe it because everything’s so great, and I love you, and you listen to me even when I don’t think you’re listening and I don’t know, thank you, güerito.”

“Already told you not to thank me,” he stepped closer to her. “I just like seeing you happy is all.”

It was moments like those that made Paulina wonder how she’d gotten so lucky. Despite their occasional arguments and the press and having to deal with royalty, she’d never been happier. She’d never felt more loved and appreciated. After her relationship with Joaquin fell apart, she’d gotten used to the idea that she’d probably only ever have flings and never be able to find anyone to really get serious about and to give her heart to, but then Harry came out of nowhere. Fate had thrown them together, and after everything they’d been through, they were just a couple of weeks short of their one year anniversary, and were in Paris.

Life with him was something out of dream, and as she lovingly gazed up at him, admiring his face in the sunlight, she knew that she’d always love him. No matter what was to come, her heart would always belong to Harry. And despite their being in Paris, and her having always wanted to explore the city and it’s museums and attractions, all she wanted at that moment was to lay with him, to share a bed and one another.

“Why ya looking at me like that?” asked Harry. “Is there something on my face?”

“No.” She lifted her right hand to his face, and gently brushed her fingertips across his cheeks. “I was just thinking that maybe we should spend our first afternoon in Paris –”

“At the Eiffel Tower?” he asked.

She shook her head. “In bed,” she told him. Her eyes making it clear to him what she had planned.

“Ya mean, ya want to spend the entire afternoon in bed instead of out there, exploring and running about like you’ve been so keen on.”

“Why’s that so shocking? Would you rather hit the museums already?”

“No. NO!” He shook his head. “It’s just you were jumping about in your seen going on about what you would do first, but I like this idea loads more. Though we’ve reservations for dinner at eight,” he told her. “I don’t think we should miss that.”

“We won’t.” She promised. “But what are we missing out right now?” she asked him. “I thought you had everything scheduled out.”

“To be honest, I hadn’t really scheduled anything other than dinner for today. I figured we’d do whatever you wanted to do since you know, but this,” he placed his hands on her hips, “Is loads better than anything I could have planned. Ya really know how to make a bloke proper happy.”

“Well it wouldn’t be Paris without sex.” She smiled mischievously. “Now let’s get inside or else your Gran might see some pictures she won’t be so thrilled about.”

Harry didn’t have to be told twice. He swept her into his arms and ran inside without looking it back. If it hadn’t been for Paulina pointing out that he’d left the door wide bloody open and that the curtains weren’t drawn, he would’ve never noticed, but thankfully for them, she did. If she hadn’t, the photographers that were staying at the hotel across the street would’ve been able to snap pictures of them with their long lens.

The pair spent their afternoon lost in one another. They were completely oblivious to the outside world, all that mattered was them. They were the only ones that existed, and they didn’t rush having sex. No. It wasn’t fucking or shagging or having a go. It was making love. It was slow and deliberate, gentle yet passionate. And at the end, they just lay there, not talking, not moving, just enjoying one another’s presence.

When it came time for dinner, they went to a restaurant that had a gorgeous view of the Seine. It was so alluring and magical that every so often she’d sneak a peak outside. She wouldn’t go as far as to say that it was more beautiful than the Thames, but it was on par with it. And all though dinner all she wanted to do was stroll alongside it.

“Harry?” she asked when they climbed into the car.

“Yes, darling?” he replied.

“Are you up for a stroll?”

“Let me guess, a stroll along the Seine?”

She nodded. “How’d you know? Wait. It was the staring. Wasn’t it? I didn’t want to be rude, it’s just so beautiful and it’s dimly lit and it seems like it’d be really rad and romantic.”

“It would, but it honestly looks like rain.”

“I have nothing against a little rain during a walk along the Seine. In fact, I'd rather like it.”

“When you’re coughing about and have a fever, ya won’t be liking it so much.”

“Well if I'm going to be coughing about, so will you.” She said very matter-of-factly. “So what do you say?”

“That we better not catch a cold.” He turned to look at Kamal. “Kamal, take us to the Seine.”