Page 10 of Meet Me In Monaco


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But my fears turn out to be unfounded. Liliana herself opens the door, stepping out of the bathroom. She’s pale and shaking, and without even thinking I slip an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close.

“Is he gone?” she asks.

“Yes,” I tell her. I lead her to the side a little, making sure to stay behind the screen but stepping out of the way of the doors so we don’t block anyone else’s way. “Are you alright?”

I can feel her shaking against my side, and I know she isn’t – but I have to ask.

“I thought he was going to…” she stops herself and covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Hey, it’s alright,” I tell her soothingly. That look on her face is like an arrow to my chest. I don’t want her to look like that. Not ever. “He won’t be coming back. You’re safe now.”

“Thank you so much,” she says, blinking back the tears. “If you weren’t there, I don’t know what might have happened.”

“I was there,” I tell her, reaching out to smooth back her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. It’s soft under my fingers, and her skin is so warm. “Don’t let him scare you. It’s alright now.”

I lead her back to the table where her father is still waiting, completely unaware that anything has happened. That's when I realize how this whole thing must look my arm around her as I bring her back from the bathroom. Not exactly the best look for two people who've only just met, especially in front of her father.

Reluctantly, I let her go as we approach the table, although I still make sure to guide her into her chair. Once I know that she’s settled, I turn to Frank to let him know what happened.

“She had a bit of a scare,” I explain, which is perhaps the understatement of the year. “There was an… undesirable element stalking the bathrooms. I’ve taken care of it – he’s been removed.”

“What about the police?” Liliana says suddenly, clearly having only just thought of it. “He shouldn’t get away with…”

“Like I said, I’ve taken care of it,” I smile, nodding reassuringly. “He won’t be bothering anyone again. I promise you that.”

“Thank you,” Frank says, looking taken aback by it all. “I didn’t think that such a thing would happen here.”

“In Monaco? It’s rare,” I tell him. “But we have people coming in for work on a daily basis, across the borders. They aren’t always… well, sometimes you find someone who is not the right fit for this place. But we have a hard-working police force who makes sure to keep us all safe.”

“It’s a good thing you were there,” Frank says seriously, reaching across the table for his daughter’s shaking hand. “If I wasn’t, I’m glad she had the next best thing – someone around her father’s age to look out for her.”

I grit my teeth as I hear his comment on my age. Yes, I’m older than her. We both know it. Does he have to keep bringing it up? If he keeps saying it, I’m afraid that she won’t ever see me as anything more than an older man, too.

And I want her to see me as more – much more.

But when I look to her face to try and assess what she’s thinking, what I see there shocks me entirely – and leaves me at a loss for words.

Chapter Eight

Liliana

When Dad makes his comment about Nico's age, I'm almost taken aback. Yes, I know that he's older than me. We've even discussed that he's about Dad’s age already. But at that moment, when he was looking after me, it didn't feel that way. It felt like I was being treated like a lady by a real gentleman, not someone so much older than me but rather someone a bit more contemporary.

And that's when it hits me full force. His age doesn't mean anything to me at all. It's not even a factor. I still want him. I still feel a flush of desire run through me when I look at him. I'm looking at him now, remembering the way his arm slid around my shoulders and pulled me tight against him, and that flush of desire is stronger than ever.

I think it must be written all over my face because when he looks at me he simply blinks and stares for a moment as if he saw something he didn’t expect. I don't try to hide it or look away. I want him to see. I want him to know.

I want him.

It's then that I know I have to say something else. If we leave this place and go home, and I never see him again, then I will be no worse off than I was when I started. But on the other hand, I could leave here much richer than I was. I could leave here more experienced, more a woman of the world. I could leave here with his memory in my head.

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