Since then they’ve been very protective. Overprotective, even.
“I’m sixteen,” I say, preparing to launch into my litany of reasons I should be trusted.
“Okay,” my father says.
“I’m mature. I’m responsible. I’ve never once missed curfew. I make straight As, even in my AP classes, and—Oh. Wait. Seriously?”
“It’s not a small thing, leaving you alone in a foreign country, but you’re right about all those things. If you want to stay here in the hotel room and read a book, I think you’ve earned that right.”
Wow. And also, what a guilt trip. Under normal circumstances I would have loved to stay in the hotel room and read a book. Nothing about meeting Elijah has been normal circumstances.
My mother looks uncertain. “You’re going to keep your phone near you?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“And leave your ringer on?”
“Yes, Mom.”
He pulls her close. “We’re only going to be a few blocks away, sunshine.”
I look out the window to hide my shock and my sudden unease. The sun sets behind the Eiffel Tower, coating it in a warm purple glow. What have I gotten myself into? In an hour my family will leave for the Catacombs tour. I’ll be able to call Elijah—and then what?
He’s a stranger to me in every way. I don’t even know his last name.
CHAPTER FOUR
The small elevator rumbles on its way down. I glance right and left when the single door slides open, nervous, half expecting my family will suddenly appear in the lobby. Even the concierge looks suspicious as I cross the marble floor. It’s drizzling as I step onto the street. A valet looks at me with a question, and I shake my head. No taxi. People bustle into the restaurant of the hotel. They make a run for their Ubers. But I don’t see a man in black slacks and a leather jacket. My heart hollows out. Maybe he’s stood me up. Or worse, took one look at me and turned around in the opposite direction.
A black car pulls in front of me, and the window rolls down. Green eyes study me from the driver’s side. “Hey,” he says in his low voice that makes me blush.
I climb into the passenger seat, close the door, and we take off. He’s zooming through the lanes, clearly comfortable driving in this country. A roundabout steals my breath, and I have to close my eyes against the wild spin of cars. He gives a soft laugh. “You nervous?”
“Yeah,” I admit, but I’m not really talking about his driving.
A knowing glance. “Well, I’m not going to take you to my apartment, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
His apartment? My brain hadn’t even gotten that far. The kissing was hazy in my mind, the setting even more so. Second base, third base. Actual sex. Even the fantasies happened in a blank space. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Where’s your backpack? Thought it was a family rule.”
I glance down at the black leather cross-body purse I’m wearing instead. “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly ask permission to come here.”
“What did you tell them?”
“That I was reading.”
He swings through another roundabout, not even slowing as other cars merge and slip away. “Is that what you like to do at night?”
I glance at him, wondering if he’s mocking me. “Honestly, yeah.”
“Like what?”
He seems genuinely interested, so I answer with cautious honesty. “This book I’m into is about this mermaid queen and how she’s at war with the dragons. Both sides are being vicious, so there can never really be peace.”
“Vicious,” he says slowly. “Vicious how?”
“Like the dragons pull the mermaids out of the water by their hair. They leave them high in the mountains so they die by the time they pull themselves back to the water.”
“That’s—Jesus.”
“Yeah.”
He pulls up in front of a restaurant. “What do the mermaids do?”
Valets come to open my door, and I step out of the car without answering the question. If I’d imagined a restaurant, it would have been another hole-in-the-wall. Someplace with paper napkins and prices on the menu. Instead this place has people in suits and high heels waiting outside, and a maître d’ who raises his eyebrow at my appearance.
I’m suddenly beyond grateful that I stole from my sister’s luggage. It’s a dress with patches of different jewel-toned patterns with a handkerchief hem. I also took some gold strappy sandals. A little flirty for the late-night walk I thought I would be taking, but still appropriate for a fancy place. Along with the black leather purse it seems like I belong here.
“Smith,” Elijah says to the man, who scans his paper with a dubious expression. Apparently he finds what he’s looking for, because his brow clears. “Right this way.”
I wait until we’ve been seated with menus, wine menus, and cocktail menus.
Then we’re alone.
“Okay, how did you do this?” I demand. “I only texted you like an hour ago.”
