Olivia

By seven, I was back at the hotel, my feet sore but my heart full. I ordered room service for a light dinner, not wanting to fill up before whatever Alexander had planned for later.

The roses in the bedroom had been refreshed while I was out, their scent even stronger now. I ran a bath in that ridiculous marble tub, adding the complimentary bath salts and sinking into the hot water with a sigh of pure contentment.

Paris. I was actually in Paris, ...