"Try not to take forever," the note on the package stated, positioned neatly on the bed.
The cream-colored package carried a sweet fragrance, pulling Evie's curiosity. "What's this?" she mused with a chuckle, recognizing Ezra's distinctive handwriting. With a tug, she pulled the ribbon and lifted the lid.
Her breath hitched.
Inside was a dress—champagne gold, soft as silk, shimmering in the morning light. It radiated elegance and allure, instantly captivating her.
She traced her fingers over the fabric, feeling her throat tighten with emotion. "He didn't have to do this," she murmured, her eyes welling at the sight of the dress.
This wasn't just any dress; it was the most stunning creation she'd ever encountered—silky, champagne gold adorned with delicate beading that sparkled like starlight. Expensive. Bold. Very much like Ezra.
The sight of the dress filled her heart to the brim. "Let's get dressed" she said to herself, because she didn't want to keep him waiting.
Once she slipped into the dress, did her makeup, and styled her hair, the suite remained quiet. No Ezra. Just her, poised before the mirror, refusing to overthink the implications of it all.
When Ezra finally entered the suite, adjusting the cuff of his shirt, his gaze landed on her. He came to an abrupt halt.
Time slowed.
Evie stood by the window, bathed in soft light, wearing the dress he had chosen. Her red hair curled gracefully over her shoulders, lips tinted rose, with that delicate shimmer of gold clinging to her as if it were meant for her alone.
His breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of her.
For a brief moment, he was speechless. Then he finally spoke.
"Happy birthday, Evie." His words were simple. Low, yet powerful.
She turned, blinking, caught off guard—not just by the words but by the intensity in his gaze. That rare, unreadable expression he typically concealed. Ezra walked in, commanding the space around him in an outfit that proclaimed he owned the day… but his focus was solely on her.
"Thank you," she said, her voice steady as her hands glided over the fabric of her dress.
"We should get going," he replied, his tone returning to its familiar coolness.
But she noticed it. The hitch in his voice. The tightness in his shoulders. Ezra closed the distance between them and extended his arm, and without hesitation, Evie slipped her hands into his as he led her through the door, deliberately avoiding her gaze.
As they stepped outside the suite, eyes were on them—both intrigued and awestruck, as if they were the most extraordinary couple anyone had ever seen. "Ezra," Evie called out, her voice soft as she turned to him.
He looked her way, responding with a brief, noncommittal "Hmm."
"You still haven't told me where we're headed," she pressed.
"You'll see when we get there," he retorted, a smirk hinting at the corners of his mouth.
Evie brushed aside thoughts of his elusive nature; perhaps the mystery was part of the thrill. It was her birthday, and she couldn't help but wonder what surprises he had in store.
They entered the car, a symbol of luxury, and it glided through the streets. While Evie gazed out the window, captivated by the city, Ezra couldn't tear his eyes away from her. She was undeniably the most stunning woman he'd ever encountered. The moment he saw her in the suite, he felt a shift within himself—something he had never experienced before.
He caught the sparkle in her eyes, even as she attempted to maintain her composure.
His lips curled in amusement.
The car rolled to a stop just outside an upscale, hidden restaurant — its minimalist design masking an air of old-money sophistication. Inside, crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over plush velvet seats and rich dark wood. The tantalizing aroma of fine wine and perfectly seared dishes hung in the air.
As the doorman in a sharp tuxedo opened the car door, Ezra was already there, reaching out his hand to Evie.
She accepted it, stepping out in her heels. "You didn't have to open the door for me," she said, a teasing glint in her eye.
Ezra shot her a smirk. "I'm not heartless."
Evie raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against her ear. "Don't test me." His hand secured around her waist, sending a surge of electricity through her. Though her cheeks flushed, he only smirked as he guided her toward the entrance.
Inside, the restaurant buzzed with an upscale energy, gold accents, and dark wood creating a luxurious atmosphere punctuated by the soft sounds of fine crystal clinking. A hostess escorted them to a private table with a breathtaking view of the Eiffel Tower, the lighting low and intimate. Ezra effortlessly pulled out her chair.
As Evie settled into her seat, she leveled her gaze at him. "If you keep up these gentlemanly gestures, I might start to think you actually like me."
Ezra took his seat. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
She grinned as he flagged the waiter with a subtle nod. When he ordered, it was off-menu and in flawless French. Evie narrowed her eyes at him.
"You've been here before?" she asked.
He shrugged. "No. I just came prepared."
She couldn't ignore the fact that this man was impressive, but why did he have to go through such lengths? "So..." She paused for effect, "Do you always put in this effort for women you're not interested in?"
"Only for the ones I have to date," he replied smoothly, making it clear he was talking about her.
Their drinks arrived, "To a memorable birthday, Evie" and they clinked glasses.
Evie glanced out the window, soaking in the Parisian atmosphere and the fact that she was here with a man everyone wanted. It still sounded unbelievable.
And when she turned back, she caught Ezra's gaze fixed on her.
"Do I have something on my face?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"You've been staring," she added.
He raised an eyebrow. "Have I?"
Evie sensed the intensity in his eyes in the suite, a level of interest that was new. Back in the car, she'd felt his gaze, and now it burned with an undeniable heat.
Thankfully, the waiter appeared, causing Ezra to tear his gaze away from her.
Evie glanced too, at the waiter, dressed impeccably, carrying their order on a silver tray.
A beautifully plated serving of *brioche French toast* awaited them, perfectly caramelized and topped with fresh berries, crème fraîche, and a drizzle of vanilla bean syrup. Alongside it was a side of *buttery scrambled eggs* and *herbed chicken sausage*.
"Bon appétit," the waiter said warmly before stepping away.
Evie's eyes widened. "Okay, now this… looks too pretty to eat."
"Eat it anyway," said Ezra.
As she took a bite, closing her eyes, she took a breath, "Okay, this is criminally good. Did you bribe the chef?"
Ezra sipped his champagne, his eyes locked on her. "Just asked for the best. You deserve nothing less."
Her heart warmed at his words, and she felt a rush of emotions as she stared at him. The moment hung between them. "I really don't know what to say," she admitted, the weight of his gaze making her feel vulnerable.
Tilting his head slightly, Ezra replied, "You don't have to say anything," His voice low and inviting.
***
Just as breakfast came to a close, the soft hum of a string quartet filled the air—smooth and captivating.
Evie was finishing her wine when she noticed Ezra stand and extend his hand toward her. "What are you doing?" She inquired, curiosity piqued.
He arched an eyebrow. "Dance with me."
"Here?" she replied.
"There's no one here," he reminded her and added. "Come."
The way he said it ignited something within her. Rolling her eyes playfully, she slipped her hand into his. The moment their skin touched, the atmosphere shifted—charged and electric.
He pulled her close, one hand at her waist, the other holding hers with intention. They swayed, slow and deliberate, ignoring the world around them. Their gazes locked as Ezra guided her across the dance floor, his eyes filled with intensity. She fought the urge to look away, softly biting her lower lip. His presence was impossible to ignore.
"I've been meaning to say this," he began slowly, capturing her full attention. "You look dangerously good."
Her breath quickened as she followed his lead. "Is that why you've been staring?"
"I guess," he muttered under his breath, His gaze flitting between her eyes and lips, bringing them to a stop. They stood close, his arms around her waist, her face mere inches from his.
Her heart raced, but she held her gaze steady. Ezra was equally entranced, struggling to understand the pull he felt toward her. It wasn't just that she was beautiful; Evie was extraordinary.
"I'm sorry, Evie," he said, his tone shifting, and she blinked, puzzled by the apology. But before she could process her thoughts, he cupped her cheeks, leaned in, and pressed his lips against hers.
Evie felt as if she had been robbed of breath.
He traced the bottom of her lip with his tongue, as if trying to memorize the fullness of her plump lips. Evie was stunned, her heart accelerating in her chest. He then eased her into part her lips for him, her hand rested against his chest.
She closed her eyes, her body igniting as they kissed, each testing the boundaries as they explored each other's mouths. He pressed in closer, relishing the softness of her against his taut chest as he deepened the kiss.
When they finally pulled away, breathless, their eyes locked.
What just happened?