When the Heart Falls(125)

"Have you been yet?" Cade asks.

"No. This is so awesome." I'm practically jumping up and down now, pulling him by the hand.

"Perfect, we can experience it for the first time together." He laughs and jogs to keep up with me.



A few hundred steps into the climb, I reassess our decision to 'save time' by climbing instead of taking the lift to the first two platforms. "Cade. I'm dying. You might have to carry me the rest of the way."

My legs burn, and my breath is labored, but he looks like he's on a pleasant country stroll. "You can do it," he says. "We're almost to the first level."

But we don't stop at the first level. Nope. We both want to see the sun set on Paris, and it's setting fast, so we need to get to the top deck quickly.

By the time we get to the second deck, my legs are wobbly, like cooked spaghetti, barely holding me upright. Since there are no stairs to the top deck—darn, what a bummer!—we take the lift and arrive at the top just in time to see the sun setting over Paris.

The view stuns me speechless, and I almost forget to take pictures.

Cade breaks the silence. "This is the tallest building in France. It was originally built as the entrance arch to the 1889 World's Fair and was only supposed to stay up for 20 years. Can you imagine if they'd dismantled the Eiffel Tower? It's so iconic."

"I'm glad they didn't." I point to a spot on the horizon. "Look, the Arc de Triomphe, and there's Champ de Mars. I spent an afternoon at that park just reading. Best day ever. Well, one of the best days. The view from here is amazing."

Cade's voice softens. "Yes. It is."

He's looking at me, not the view, and my heart jumps into my throat. "I used to go up on tall buildings all the time in New York, but it's not the same. Everything there is so big, so grand, fighting for attention. Here, you're on top of the world."

"There's actually a reason for that." He smiles and I can tell he's about to go into one of his architectural lectures, which I actually love. "Since the 13th century, Paris has been mined for gypsum and limestone, but nobody tracked how many tunnels they dug or where they went. Basically, Paris is sitting on a giant, unmapped anthill. By the 1700s entire sections of Paris collapsed into the ground, but it wasn't until the 1950s that they declared the tunnels off limits. Now there are weight restrictions imposed on buildings to keep the city from caving in."

I shiver. "So, if there's a decent earthquake here—"

"The whole city will collapse," he says.

"Damn. Let's hope there are no fault lines around here."

"Yeah." He shifts his attention to the night sky and is silent for a moment. The mood changes around us as we both stare at stars. "It's odd," he says. "I feel like there should be fireworks. My family always used to get together on the 4th of July and launch some fireworks. And not just little firecrackers either, but big, fill the night sky firecrackers. My dad loves the 4th of July. We'd have homemade ice-cream and barbecues all day long and swim in the lake until nightfall. It brought everyone together."

My hands rest on the metal bar in front of us, and Cade moves closer to me, resting his hand on mine. I think back to my own holiday traditions. "We always used to gather at Times Square, get some gelato—that's Italian ice cream—on the way, and wait for night to turn to day. Seriously, that's how bright the fireworks are."

Cade moves closer to me, body pressing against mine. His voice is lower, softer than before. "It's too bad there aren't any here, but you know what, I'm still enjoying myself."

"I'm still enjoying myself too." As beautiful as the city is at night, my attention is captured by the amazing man next to me.

I turn into him, our bodies touching, faces inches from each other.

For the first time in my life, I'm not worried about personal space. I want him in my space, want him closer than he already is.

The air around us sizzles with heat, dispelling the cold as electricity pulses between us. Locked in his blue eyes, the way his lips curve up into a smile when he sees me, I want to taste his mouth. Feel his lips on mine.

An explosion lights up the sky, and we look up in time to see fireworks filling the night with light and color.

He raises his hand and slides his knuckles down my cheek with tenderness, with a whisper of a touch. "Guess there's fireworks after all."

Shivers run up my spine and pressure pulses in my belly. As beautiful as the sight is, my eyes are locked on his. "They aren't always the best part."

"Oh, Winter, do you know how lovely you are?"

He brings his face closer to mine, and the space between us disappears. His hand moves to the back of my head, pulling me closer to him as he reaches for me.

Time stops. The world stops. Everything around us fades into nothing until all I can see is him. All I can feel is him.

And when his lips brush against mine, so warm and soft, so tender and sensual, a different kind of firework explodes in my mind. The kiss deepens, his tongue pushing open my lips and finding mine, his arms wrapping around me more tightly. With eyes closed, I'm ruled by my other senses, touch and taste and smell. My body takes over, bringing more passion and need to our embrace, gripping his back with my hands, feeling the hard muscles under his shirt flex as he gives into the desire that's been building between us.