Chapter 22

" I thought you weren't going to take me to the Eiffel Tower?" I asked, practically skipping next to Simon as we passed through security.

He glanced at me. "It seemed important to you."

I swore my heart skipped a beat. I couldn't look at him for too long, though, because the security guards snapped something that was probably telling me to hurry up and that I was a stupid American in the same sentence. I darted through the metal detectors, retrieving my bag and walking with my head tilted back to take in the enormous tower we approached.

Simon kept his hand on my lower back, guiding me as we walked. I couldn't stop staring up and around, my eyes bugging out of my head.

We stood in line for an absurd amount of time, but I didn't care. I bounced back and forth on my heels, suppressing my squeal of joy when Simon asked for two tickets to the top of the tower. The growl he released when I tried to reach for my wallet sent chills through me, and the inappropriate thoughts that rushed through my mind were no doubt a result of remembering his tongue on my neck. His hand slid easily into mine as we walked from one line to another, waiting to get on the elevator that would take us up.

"This is incredible," I gushed, bouncing.

"You aren't even on the tower yet," he countered.

"I don't care. I've never done anything this cool." I beamed.

We were crammed into a minuscule elevator so tightly my chest pressed against Simon's. His breath caught, and black veins rippled beneath his eyes when I glanced up at him. He lowered his face closer to mine, effectively hiding from everyone else. I breathed in the mint on his breath and the sharp scent of his cologne.

I couldn't stop thinking about his lips brushing my throat and his hand gripping my thigh in the dark. His eyes found mine and my breath hitched in my chest. I could have sworn his lips parted, as if he was waiting for me to just…lean…forward.

I tilted my head.

The elevator skidded to a stop, and the crowd poured out onto the first level of the Eiffel Tower.

I darted away from Simon immediately, rushing straight for the edge. He followed a step behind me as I circled the entire tower, pointing out other monuments I saw—Notre Dame, the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe. Simon bought two glasses of champagne and a small container of macarons, leading me to a standing table. He offered me one of the glasses of champagne, and I grinned as I clinked my plastic flute against his, giggling uncontrollably.

"Your happiness is contagious," he said after a sip.

I paused and straightened. "No one's ever told me that before."

"Have you ever been as happy as you are right now?" he countered.

The horrible realization sank into me. "No."

"This is what living forever should feel like, Lucinda."

Shivers ran down my spine and I nodded weakly. For half a second, neither of us moved. My heart threatened to burst out of my chest as I looked into the deep green of his eyes. His head tilted forward ever so slightly, his eyes dropping to my mouth, and I thought he might kiss me. Then, someone brushed his arm, and his attention was pulled from me and back to our surroundings. I let out a breath and took another sip of my champagne.

Something had shifted between Simon and me today. While yesterday felt like two friends exploring a city, this was different. I wanted him to kiss me—to touch me—more than anything, and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

When we finished our treats, we got in line to get into the next elevator that would take us to the top of the world. Simon stood so close to me I could feel his heartbeat. I didn't move away.

After another eternity of waiting in a crowd, we stepped out onto the top of the Eiffel Tower. Simon led me up the last set of stairs into the windy corridor. I gripped his hand as we wound through the crowd until we found a spot on the railing to look out over the city. The ground seemed to sway beneath our feet, and I clung to Simon to keep my bearings.

"I feel like I'm on top of the world," I breathed.

He heard me over the wind and nodded. My breath caught when he let go of my hand to wrap his arm around my torso and hold me. It was a little cold up here and I shivered, leaning into him.

I pointed to the dark clouds in the distance. "Think it's going to rain?"

"It might," Simon murmured, sounding distracted.

When I turned toward him to make sure he was alright, I discovered his eyes were fixed on me instead of the city around us. A bright blush burned over my cheeks. Black veins flashed on Simon's face; he blinked them away quickly. I reached up slowly when they reappeared, brushing my fingers over his smooth face. I hummed in surprise. I thought I would have been able to feel his veins, but they were only colored—not raised. His eyes fluttered, the red rim around his eyes stark against the emerald green.

Bravely, I traced my fingers down Simon's cheek. He tilted his head up slightly, his lips parting as he watched my every movement. I brushed my thumb over his bottom lip. My heart beat so loudly in my throat that I was sure he could hear it over the wind and the chatter of the crowd.

Simon waited, swallowing thickly. Holding my breath, I pushed my thumb past his lips to find the fangs lurking behind them. I slid the pad of my thumb over the tip of one of them, hissing at the sharp pain of my skin breaking. Simon's lips closed over my thumb. I felt a growl rumble deep in his chest as his eyes rolled back and closed.

It was, quite possibly, the sexiest thing I'd ever seen.

His hand closed around my wrist, pulling my hand away from his face. My eyes lingered on the small cut on my thumb. Simon's grip tightened and he turned, moving closer to me and pressing my back against the railing.

"That was awfully brave of you," he said quietly.

I swallowed. "You told me to do whatever I wanted for three days. I wanted that."

"And what else do you want?" he breathed.

I licked my lips. "I think it's about time you kissed me, don't you?"

Simon's mouth closed over mine.