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“Bien, monsieur, très bien”

Marco put his hand lightly in the small of Emily’s back

“Cristoffe, c’est Madame Madison Elle est mon aide Emily, this is Cristoffe He is—”

“Bonjour, Cristoffe,” Ehted doorman chatted in French while he opened the doors to a lobby that was as char marble floors

The staff greeted Marco like an old friend; he introduced her and everyone nodded and se of brightly polished brass, the kind of elevator she’d always associated with Paris

It took them to the tenth floor

The doors opened directly onto the lounge of their suite

The belle would arrive shortly Marco thanked him politely, discreetly handed over a tip that made the man’s smile even wider, and waved him out

“Well?” Marco said, once they were alone, “what do you think?”

What did she think? Eer over an orhtly across the back of a beautiful Louis XIII chair He didn’t know it, of course, but she’d been in a lot of upscale, elegant hotel suites—and this outshone them all

“I think—I think this is absolutely beautiful What’s the name of the hotel?”

“La Boîte à Bijoux”

“The Jewel Box Oh, that’s perfect!”

He nodded, his gaze wary, his answering smile hesitant

“Is it new?”