“However you want me to do it.” She liked the idea. He had given her advice before, but this would be different. It would be entirely his bailiwick, and given his training, it would be perfect.

“Let’s sleep on it, and decide before you go back, so you can get the ball rolling in New York.”

“That sounds perfect.” He looked pleased.

They went back to her bedroom then and made love again. She loved the idea of his moving to Paris and living with her. It was just right for right now, and it could grow into more later. He had touched on it, and she hadn’t responded. But he was letting her set the pace, which was what she needed.

They fell asleep with his arms around her, and she hadn’t slept as well since he left Paris the last time.

—

When they woke up in the morning, the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day.

“What are we doing today?” he asked her as they got dressed after breakfast.

“You said you wanted to go to Deauville again, it’s the perfect day for it.” They both dressed accordingly in comfortable warm clothes and boots with rubber soles. “Do we need a bodyguard?” she asked him.

“I can drive us,” he said easily. And twenty minutes later they were in her car with down jackets and warm scarves. The air was still chilly.

They drove to Deauville and had lunch in the same restaurant they had loved before. She had a delicate sole, and he had lobster. He looked up at her for a minute.

“I thought I’d never get to do this again. There was a moment after I was shot when I was sure I was going to die. I’m still stunned that I didn’t.”

“You scared the hell out of me,” she said. “I’m glad you’re retiring.” She didn’t want to lose him.

After lunch, they walked on the beach, and when they got back to the car, she asked him if she could drive. She hadn’t been allowed to drive herself since the first kidnapping. He hesitated and then nodded, handed her the keys, and got into the passenger seat next to her.

She started the car and headed out of Deauville, and a few minutes later, he pointed to the signs on the road.

“I hate to be a backseat driver, but you’re going the wrong way. Paris is behind us.”

“I know. There’s something I want to show you before we go back.” He enjoyed the scenery then, and a little way up the road, she turned into a long driveway, and rode up a hill to the old farm she had seen when she’d gone there alone.

“Do you know the people who live here?” he asked her, and she nodded. “It’s a beautiful old place.”