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Rosa was easy to read. Almost too easy, sometimes. Marius stifled his laughter as he watched her squint at a sign, her brow furrowed as she silently mouthed the foreign words as though that would help her understand better. When that failed, she cocked her head, left then right, before huffing and staring out through the fence links and onto the scenery.
From this height on the observation deck of the Eiffel tower, it was a good view of Paris, of its sweeping roofs, long channels, and the parks that dotted the city. The Champ de Mars gardens were an oasis of green surrounded by buildings that looked like his favourite Lego blocks. However, no matter how grand the view, it wasn’t what captivated Marius today. Instead, his eyes were fixed on Rosa and her adorable pout.
Still, there was one expression that was cuter: her grumpy one. Marius smirked wickedly as he ambled over, glancing at the sign as he stopped beside her. “Elle a été construite par Gustave Eiffel pour l'Exposition universelle de Paris de 1889,” he read aloud before turning to her with a sly grin. “Did you know that?”
Rosa stiffened. Sometimes, that felt like it was her automatic reaction to him. As expected, her pout deepened, and she glared at him. Her voice was one of frigid politeness. “Show off.”
“What, you don’t know French, Miss?” Marius feigned surprise, his eyes wide, his mouth open in shock, his hand on his chest. Overly dramatic, perhaps. Childish, definitely so. But something about Rosa made him slip into behaviours he’d long suppressed after taking his brother’s place. When her eyes narrowed, he chuckled. “I’ll stop.”
“Rich people,” Rosa groused, shaking her head. With a sigh, she studied the sign once more and clicked her tongue. “Why’s it all in French?”
“Because we’re in France?” he suggested, unable to resist one last jab. Sometimes, she made it too easy.
Rosa’s jaw clenched. “Marius. Von. Hagen.”
Marius laughed and held his hands up in surrender. His name sounded so sweet when it rolled off her tongue like that. “Sorry.”
“You keep saying that, but I don’t think you know what it means,” she retorted, shooting him a disbelieving look. As the wind blew, she pushed a stray lock behind her ear. Her ribbon was slightly loose.
His fingers twitched. If he could, he’d tie it back for her. If he could—but they weren’t there yet. They weren’t anything yet. Keeping his hand down, Marius asked, “Still, is it that much of a surprise that the signs are in French?”
“I mean…not entirely, but…” Rosa shifted on her heels and craned her neck right and left, double checking the other signs. “It’s just, this is the Eiffel tower. It’s a big tourist spot. They don’t have to have every language but…English is a major international language. Wouldn’t it make sense to have the signs in both?”
“Fair enough.” Marius shrugged. He’d never thought too much of it, but then again, he’d long studied the romantic languages. It would have been hard to live in Florence otherwise. Still, if he had to hazard a guess: “It’s not very good from the tourism business side but…maybe its their grudge against the English?”
Rosa rubbed her chin, considering it. She glanced at the sign again, as though it might reveal its secrets to her. “Do you really think so? Isn’t that…childish?”
“Who said grudges aren’t?” Marius mused philosophically.
“That must be why you have so many,” Rosa replied tartly. He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t resist a good opening.
She didn’t quite stick out her tongue, but he felt it, and a flare of warmth shot up through him. After she’d found out just who he was, Rosa had grown more polite, more formal in social settings. As though she was trying to keep some distance between them. Now, it was starting to feel like that wall was finally crumbling. Maybe she wanted to be closer to him too.
Maybe his feelings weren’t a one-sided yearning.
Rosa leaned against the fence, her fingers curled into the links, a hand pushing back her hair as the wind played with her locks. “At least the view doesn’t need a translation.”
Marius grinned as he stood next to her. Their shoulders were close, the gap between them shrinking by the day. “So…worth the trip?”
“The line up was—wait.” Rosa paused. He could see a dozen thoughts run through her mind before she turned to him with a suspicious look. “Actually, why am I here?”
“To see the view?” Marius suggested.
“I don’t mean literally up here.” Rosa rolled her eyes. For a woman who tried very hard to keep her professional and personal matters separate, she was completely incapable of hiding her thoughts. “This is a business trip. For your contract. Why are we sight-seeing?”
The jig was up. While it was easy to sweep Rosa off her feet, it was just as easy for her to regain her footing. How he answered this question was critical to how the rest of their business trip went. There were still so many sights in Paris he wanted her to see.
“What sort of terrible boss do you think I am?” Marius protested dramatically. He leaned against the fence, one arm bent on the barrier, his cheek resting on his fisted hand as he angled himself toward Rosa. Whenever he gave her his full attention, she flustered. And a flustered Rosa was an easy-to-convince Rosa. “It can’t be all work and no play.”
Her cheeks reddened but she stood her ground. Rosa wasn’t buying it. Yet. “This is a work trip.”
“Employee satisfaction is important to me,” he explained, all but pleading now. What would the board think if they saw him like this? Though, Payton would be pleased. “Can’t we do both?”
He was getting to her—Rosa wavered, her hands clenching on the metal links, her brow furrowing as she fought temptation. Biting her cheek, she balked once more, a last denial, “But this is—”
“Please, Miss?” Marius interrupted, showcasing his puppy eyes as he whined, “I don’t usually get time off.”
Rosa shuddered, her resistances crumbling. With a defeated sigh, she nodded her head. “Fine.”
Marius bounced to his feet, excited. This wasn’t how he’d planned to take Rosa to Paris for the first time, but he could adapt. “You won’t regret this.”
“I already am,” she deadpanned, giving him a disgruntled look. Contradicting her words, her tone was light. “You were acting again, weren’t you?”
“Everything I said was true.” And it was. Perhaps he’d overdramatized it, but he’d never lied to her thus far. “How do you find Paris?”
Her lips pinched as Rosa wore the blank expression she usually had whenever she was trying to find a way to praise something she didn’t like. “It’s…less romantic than I expected,” she finally admitted diplomatically.
“How honest.” Marius laughed. That might have been what drew him to her first—her ever-changing honest expressions. “Well, can’t have you think I’m a poor tour guide on top of being a bad boss!” Holding out a hand, he bowed slightly and winked, “I think I know exactly what you want to see.”
Rosa stared at his hand, surprised. “What?”
“It’s crowded here. You don’t want to get separated right?” Marius cajoled her, though he was unable to resist one last tease. “You might get lost with all these French signs.”
Rosa hesitated before slipping her soft hand into his. Her ears reddened, though if it was because of their contact or his jest, he couldn’t tell. “It’s not that I couldn’t do it if I—my English isn’t that bad. I just didn’t learn French.”
“Whatever you say.” Her competitive streak reared its head in the funniest of ways. Marius chuckled, squeezing her hand as he intertwined their fingers. This time, her flush reached her cheeks.
-x-
Paris was romantic. That was something Marius couldn’t really tell Rosa, not even as they walked along the Seine, her hand tucked into his arm as though that would decrease the intimacy of it all. Paris was romantic but not in the way others pictured it: streetlamp lined streets, the towering Eiffel, the glittering Seine, classical music playing over a twilight evening. Movies and books had sold a dream, a dream that could never have existed in the first place.
Instead, the streets of Paris were as dirty as any other city’s streets, filled with the wear and tear of living metropolis. Vendors lined the paths to the Eiffel, clamoring for attention as they sold dozens of tiny trinkets and charms, macarons and sweets. Countless visitors queued up to visit the tower and see the sights, their conversations filling the air instead of stringed instruments. And the Seine had more akin to a dirty puddle than clean river.
Yet…from an artist’s eye, all of this was interesting, all of this tempting to touch, to fiddle, to devour and shine a spotlight on. It was a different kind of romance.
However, he knew just what Rosa wanted and where to get it. A chauffeured car ride later, and they were standing in front of the Palace of Versailles, a structure that maintained its majesty to this day. Rosa’s hand gripped his arm tightly as they strolled across the grounds, her wide eyes soaking in the enormous building, the arching rooms, the sprawling gardens.
“What do you think?” he asked even though the answer was clear on her face.
“It’s…” Rosa opened and closed her mouth several times, struggling to find the words.
“Cat got your tongue?” Marius ribbed when she still didn’t reply.
She shot him an annoyed glare, her hand slipping out of his arm. Immediately, he missed her warmth. “You’re lucky this place is nice.”
Well, if he was already in the doghouse, he might as well embrace it. “Just nice?” he needled.
“More than nice.” Rosa rolled her eyes, but she was all smiles as they ambled along the terrace. She leaned against one of the stone railings overlooking the massive gardens. Pushing a stray hair behind her ear, she mused, “It’s…stunning.”
The late afternoon light bathed Rosa in a soft golden glow. Her hair shimmered under the sun’s rays. Marius repeated softly, “Stunning.”
Taking a step back, he framed her between his fingers, as though he were taking a photo. From where he stood, she was at an angle and the garden her backdrop. If he were to name this scene, it’d be—
“Ma chérie.”
“Huh?” Turning back to him, Rosa raised a brow. “Sorry, I missed that.”
Marius flushed, dropping his hands immediately. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. Not now, at least. “Nothing—it was nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously before shrugging and gesturing at the gardens. “Do we have time to go in?”
“Of course.” Marius forced himself to calm down. “I can just book the place if you want more time.”
Rosa blanched. “…please don’t.”
“Alright, alright. Let’s see what we can then.” Marius grinned, leading the way down. His ears still felt hot, his arm still felt the ghost of his touch, and the hey sweetheart was still on the tip of his tongue.
Maybe in the future, he could take that next step, tell her what he meant.
But not now, not when just this proximity left him with a buzz, not when she still pretended her blushes were from embarrassment and nothing more.
Not when the gap between their hands could be distanced just as quickly as it could be closed.