He didn’t have to coax her this time. She immediately snapped one onto each lobe.

Very nice.

She’d nearly entered into a dream sequence—one where she appeared at the top step of a staircase, leading into a vast ballroom, and caught the eye of a handsome prince—but then she blinked and crashed down to reality. She reached for the clasp. “I can’t. I can’t afford it at all.”

He leaned forward, elbows on the glass case. “Neither can most people. But I’ll make a little bargain with you,” he said, reaching behind the case for a piece of paper. It looked like a receipt. “It’s just going to stay in the case until next year unless you wear it. It’s been part of this collection forever, and it never gets any time out in the sun. And it should! It should be admired! You should wear it. Do it a favor and give it a turn around the dance floor.”

“Thank you, but I just said—”

“On the house,” he said, scribbling something on the receipt, tearing it off, and adding it to her folio.

“Are you serious?” She shook her head, fingering the necklace. Millions of euros worth of jewels I don’t own. “Oh, no, I couldn’t—”

“Really. It’s our pleasure—to have such a beautiful guest as yourself grace these halls. You’ll be doing us a favor.”

She’d been eyeing her reflection in the mirror again, still touching the necklace she might have been able to afford in her dreams. She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off it. Finally, she tore them away and glanced at him. “Well . . . I suppose. If you insist . . .”

He grinned, “I do,” handed her the folio and waved, “Bonne chance!”

She waved goodbye to him and walked toward the exit. As she did, people gazed at her and beamed, noticing her, and in a good way, something that rarely happened to her anymore. One woman tapped her arm and said, “Ooo la la,” and a rather dashing man bowed low to the ground and winked at her. She’d never been the belle of the ball before, but now, she felt like one.

At the checkout desk, she presented her folio and her credit card. There’d soon be a hefty balance on it. She touched the necklace as the lady rang her up. “The gentleman in jewelry said this was on the house?”

The woman read over the folio and smiled, “Oui. Très jolie. That was very nice of Monsieur Chevrolet.”

“So it’s okay?”

She shrugged, “He’s head of our concierge, so oui.”

Diana let out a sigh of relief. Sure, it was expensive. Silly, possibly. Hedonistic, maybe. But it was okay. This night was what she had come for.

Putting a mental check mark next to agenda item number one, she stepped outside and slipped on the elbow-length gloves she’d been given. One night to have some fun wasn’t too much to ask. This was everything, and she couldn’t wait.