Only Fools Rush In
Chapter 7: Paris
Summary: Marcus Pike is constantly searching for ‘the one’ but keeps waking up to an empty bed. He is losing hope. When he least expects it, he is assigned to an undercover operation. Posing as an art curator and consultant to assist you, the niece of a top mafia boss. What happens when the lines are blurred and Marcus finds himself falling in love with the target of his mission? Maybe ‘the one’ is closer than he thinks but is he prepared to risk his career and his heart for a chance at true love?
A/N: More pining for Marcus in this chapter but it seems like things are getting hotter between the two of them with a romantic candlelit dinner. Marcus can’t help but get swept up in the romance of Paris. Thank you for sticking with me even with such a long time between chapters. Let me know if you want to be tagged. Re-blogs and comments are always loved, appreciated, and re-read several times.
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“God that was good” you moan softly and sit back in your seat, your plate empty and a smile on your face.
Marcus agrees, rubbing his stomach, and he loves the contentment on your face as you pick up your wine glass. Your lips are stained red and he wants to lean forward, to kiss you, and taste the Chateauneuf Du Pape off of your lips. But he has learned his lesson.
Clearly the universe does not want him to kiss you and the universe is right. He shouldn’t kiss you. Fuck, he wants to though.
“I forgot how good the food is here in Paris” you smile at Marcus as you set your glass down.
“It was excellent” Marcus returns your smile, picking up his own glass to finish the remaining drop of red wine.
“So, the Louvre tomorrow? I will ask the concierge to arrange a tour for us” you say and Marcus nods enthusiastically, almost vibrating with anticipation to see so many incredible pieces in person, “yes. Yes.”
You love his palpable excitement, “I’ll talk to them when we return to the hotel. I- I might need a nap before we go and check that the artwork makes its way onto the plane back to the States.”
“Me too” Marcus agrees, “I don’t sleep on planes. Can’t get comfortable.”
“Well you have a nice bed waiting for you back at the hotel. Yours I mean. Not mine” you fluster and Marcus bites his lip, wishing he could just hold you in his arms while you both nap.
Shaking his head slightly to alleviate him of the fantasy, he calls the waiter over to get the check.
Before Marcus can even pull his wallet out of his pants, you are slapping your card on top of the booklet, not giving Marcus a chance to pay. He goes to protest but you shake your head, “my treat for dealing with Mr. Durand.”
Marcus sighs but relents, leaning back in his seat, “thank you.”
“Believe me Marcus, thank you. That man is a sexist asshole and I- I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Shaking his head, Marcus taps his fingers on the table cloth, “you could’ve done it. I’m sure you would’ve found a way to get that painting from him.”
“Not without offering him sex” you scoff.
Marcus clenches his jaw, remembering the way Monsieur Durand wanted dinner with you in order for him to sell the painting, “men are all the same.”
“Not you” you murmur and Marcus meets your gaze, “you’re not like that.”
“You don’t even know me sweetheart” he replies, hating the slight edge in his tone, but it’s true.
You have no idea who he really is.
