I didn't sleep.
Not because I tried to stay awake.
Because sleep simply refused to come.
The hotel suite was quiet, the city lights of Paris stretching endlessly beyond the glass windows. Somewhere below, cars passed occasionally, their headlights gliding across the streets like slow-moving comets.
Normally the view would calm me.
Tonight it only reminded me how small I felt inside it.
I loosened my tie and tossed it onto the chair before walking toward the window again.
Montmartre.
That image had carved itself into my mind so clearly it might as well have been happening again.
Yvette standing beneath the glow of the city lights.
Brent beside her.
Close enough to matter.
Close enough that the space between them looked natural.
I rested my hand against the cool glass.
"You were smiling," I murmured quietly.
Not the polite smile she often used in business meetings.
Not the careful smile she gave people she respected.
