if this is her way of faking me out, when I hear the chain slide across, and then the door opens.
Gabrielle steps out.
Now that I can look at her fully, not just a slice of a face in the doorway, she looks nothing like the girl I remember. Her strange eyes now have a captivating beauty; her gangly limbs and awkwardness have turned into sleek arms and legs, moving with grace and purpose in her rust-colored dress with kimono sleeves. Her pale blonde hair is half–tied back, spilling over her shoulders. On her feet, simple slides, and in her hands she carries a black clutch that looks well made, though certainly nothing like the Dumont label.
“Nice dress,” I tell her.
She raises a brow and closes the door behind her. “You’ll take that back when you know where it’s from.”
“Where?”
“H and M.”
I laugh. “I guess what I’m trying to say is you look nice. And just because fashion is my job doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the work that the chain stores do.”
“Even though they rip off labels like Dumont on a daily basis?”
I bite my lip and smile. “Imitation is just a form of flattery, my little sprite.”
She grumbles. “Can you try and make it through lunch without insulting me?” She starts walking down the hall, and my eyes take a moment to pause on her extremely shapely ass. She must have been doing squats for the last eight years or something.
“How am I insulting you?” I say, catching up with her. I’m six feet tall and have long legs and she’s got to be at least six inches shorter than me, but she’s awfully quick.
She presses the elevator call button and folds her arms, staring straight ahead at the closed doors. “Your little sprite? Please. How demeaning can you be?”
“Oh, I can be extremely demeaning.”
A hint of a smile ghosts her lips.
Her lips.
Not sure I even noticed them until now, all pouting and full and wet, like she’s been using them for something she shouldn’t.
Stay focused, I remind myself. It’s a very strange feeling to keep myself in check. Not sure I like it. Usually I let myself do and say what I want without consequences. But I have a feeling that Gabrielle will take any opportunity to call the whole thing off, and for reasons I don’t completely understand, I need to have lunch with her. I need to convince her.
I’m not even sure of what.
“You do know what a sprite is, don’t you?” I tell her, hoping she’ll see it as a compliment.
“A tiny winged creature of the supernatural, closely related to plant life, as imbued with the natural world as possible,” she says, like she just riffled through a dictionary in her head.
“And you take that as an insult?”
“I take issue with the words ‘my’ and ‘little,’ since I am not little in any way and I’m most certainly not yours.” She pauses. “I can deal with being a sprite, especially since they’re harmless . . . until they’re threatened.”
She gives me a warning look as the elevator doors open, revealing an elderly couple dressed to the nines. I give them a polite nod and gesture to Gabrielle to go in first. I may be all those things she mentioned, but I do know my manners when it counts.
Elevators are small in Europe, and this hotel is no exception. I’m nearly pressed right up against Gabrielle’s back. Her hair smells like honey, and it’s just as alluring. I have to close my eyes and breathe in deep through my nose to keep from reaching out and seeing if her hair is as soft and silky as it looks, but that only makes things worse. The blood in my veins starts to run hot and fast, my cock increasingly stiff.
After what feels like an eternity, the doors open, and we step out into the lobby. It feels like I can breathe again.
We pass by the front desks, where Aurelie is watching us carefully. Now that she sees what Gabrielle looks like, perhaps that accounts for the suspicious expression on her face. Though Gabrielle is walking ahead of me, head high, like she doesn’t know me at all.
“Where are we going?” Gabrielle asks me once we’re out on the street, her eyes scanning her surroundings like she’s unsure of where she is and needs to be on alert.
“Anywhere you’d like,” I tell her. “My driver is around the corner.”