“I just . . .”

“But,” he interrupted her. “I think you already know what you want to do. It’s just battling with what you’re afraid you should do.” The stroking of his thumb across her knuckles paused, a wrinkle appearing between his brows. “What you think other people expect you to do. And all the time in the world spent thinking about it isn’t going to change that.” He shrugged, expression clearing. “In which case, come take a trip with me. Let me show you some pretty things and try to make out with you in inappropriate places.” Squeezing her hands, he smiled. “Choice is up to you.”

He had no idea which choice was killing her the most right now.

Regardless, she wasn’t ready to admit defeat quite yet. She drew her hands back and let out a long sigh. “Let me finish getting ready and think about it, okay?”

He didn’t seem to like that answer, but he nodded anyway. “Fine.”

By the time she’d dried her hair and gotten her makeup on, she wasn’t feeling any better about things. She planted her hands on the counter and stared into the bathroom mirror. Raising her voice so he would hear it, she asked, “Versailles is really expensive, isn’t it?”

He popped his head around the doorframe, fully dressed and looking infuriatingly perfect. “My idea. My treat.”

She frowned. “How can you afford this?”

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle it.” He put his hands on his hips. “Just make a decision, Kate.”

Putting his insistence on treating aside for a moment—she was going to have to find some way to pay him back before she left; no chance she was letting him bankrupt himself for her—she pulled her mouth into a sideways frown, regarding herself again in the mirror. Weighing her choices. In her peripheral vision, she could see his reflection, too, though.

He looked so ready to be disappointed.

And who was she kidding, really?

“Oh, what the hell.” It felt like throwing caution to the wind, like ditching class. And knowing you were probably going to get caught. She pushed the sinking feeling in her stomach aside. “I can always draw from photos when I get home, right?”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Yeah?”

“Sure. Why not?”

She could think of a hundred reasons, but really . . . he was right. She knew what she wanted to do, with her life and with him. What she should do, she could worry about later.

And for the moment, she could almost forget about the consequences, as the biggest, broadest smile spread across his face. Brilliant and handsome, and all of it raining down on her. He darted forward and picked her up by her waist, spinning her around. “You won’t regret this.”

She tried to echo his grin.

She really, really hoped that was true.

chapter TWENTY-ONE

Okay. Rylan may have overbuilt this in his head a little.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he caught Kate’s eye and tipped his head toward the next room. She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. They weaved their way past the horde of Korean tourists between them and the next doorway.

They were coming up on the most famous parts of the entire damn palace, and Kate had yet to crack a smile.

A couple more rooms and another tour group later—Japanese, this time, he was pretty sure—they spilled out into the lushest set of quarters yet. Dimly lit but glowing all the same, the bedroom was all bright gold draperies and gleaming wallpaper, every inch of it embellished by something, be it a fleur-de-lis or a curlicue or a sun. Hell, even the fireplace was lapis lazuli.

This was it. Louis the XIV’s fucking bedroom, the centerpiece of this whole place.

He turned to Kate, hoping for something, anything. “So?”

“It’s . . . cool?” The corners of her mouth twitched up, but he knew when he was being humored.

Fuck.

Curling his hands into fists, he tried to see the place through her eyes. It was sumptuous and lavish and dripping with wealth.

And it was useless. Hollow. Just like him.

Beside him, she made an impatient noise and stepped around one of the tourists in her way. He followed her, reaching out to grab her arm. She started, like she hadn’t been expecting him to touch her, and his chest hurt.

He could fix this. He would fix this.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in close. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

She looked at him in confusion. “Do you?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t care. So long as she smiled.

“You were the one who wanted to come here, weren’t you?”

“I wanted you to come here. And you don’t seem to be having a very good time.”

He paused as a little white-haired woman tried to sneak between them. He barely managed to restrain himself from yelling at her to go around—couldn’t she see they were having a moment here? Ugh. Shaking his head, he motioned toward the next room and tugged Kate along as he headed off. She didn’t put up any protest, so she couldn’t have been too invested in the stupid Sun King.

Of course the next room wasn’t any better than the last one had been, so he kept charging past everyone. They were missing all the most well-known stuff, but he didn’t care. Finally, he hit the end. He stormed down the set of stairs, only to have her wrench her arm back.

“Slow down,” she hissed. She was taking the steps at half the speed that he had been, and it was a reality check.

Restraining himself from saying anything or from rushing her any further, he stayed one pace behind her until they were back in the courtyard, breathing the fresh air.

She rounded on him. “What got into you back there?”

He shrugged, looking at the building behind her. “You looked miserable.”

“I told you this isn’t really my thing.”

“I know, I know.” God, he knew. “I’m sorry, okay, this was a shitty idea.”

“It could have been worse.”

“How?”

The corners of her lips flirted with a grin, and it was like a weight coming off his spine. “There could have been a Russian tour group in there, too?”

He barked out a laugh. Swiping his hand across his brow, he shook his head. “Look, I wanted to show you a nice time.” He’d wanted that so much. “But apparently I mucked that up.”

For the first time since they’d gone into the palace, she stepped into his space. Put her hands on his chest and waited for him to look at her. “You didn’t muck anything up. No, this hasn’t been my favorite trip we’ve taken, but no one’s perfect.”

“This was a really long ways from perfect.”

“Everywhere else you’ve taken me has been.”

He didn’t want to let go of the tension he’d been holding on to—the irrational panic, because they had so little time left, and he’d wanted to make the most of it. But when she pulled him down into a kiss, he couldn’t help it. His shoulders dropped, and the rigidity of his spine melted.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a minute. He spoke over her when she looked like she was going to interrupt. “Not just for talking you into coming here.” He grabbed her hand and held it in his. “But for pouting like a four-year-old when you looked like you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

“Apology accepted.” Lifting up onto tiptoes, she dragged him down to kiss his nose.

He felt so much calmer now. Letting her go, he gestured at the palace behind them. “Do you want to try to get back in there? Walk around the gardens? Anything? Or do you just want to go?”

“Were our tickets time-stamped?”

If there was one thing his family had taught him, it was how to talk people into letting him do what he wanted. Sometimes it took a greased palm, but that wasn’t a problem. Still, he fished out his wallet and flipped it open, thumbing through the billfold for the tickets. He examined them for a second. “I don’t see anything that says we can’t go back in.”

He looked up from the tickets to find her brows furrowed, and her gaze was on— He snapped his wallet shut.