Wulf paced.
The Empire Suite at the George V Hotel in Paris was too cramped for his long legs. He had become accustomed to his house in the Southwest or the corridors of Kensington Palace. Going out on the streets of Paris would inconvenience his security detail because they only had two men in place at night. He didn’t want to wake Dieter or Hans.
Wulf paced around the yellow roses and the dishes of violets. He paced around the dining table and through the living room area, past the alabaster busts of Napoleon and Josephine perched on columns, and through the entryway. His bare feet padded softly on the thick carpet, mindful of the people who must be sleeping below him.
That gunshot had been too near. He had placed all the people he loved in one location and then brought the fire down on them. Recriminations chattered in his head in ten languages.
Wulf paced.
He had shoved all this turmoil down in himself for the reception and the proposal, even though it simmered.
Now, his mind blazed with memory.
Blood on Constantin.
Blood on Yoshi.
Blood on Dieter, and his blood staining Flicka’s white dress.
Blood on Wulf himself.
When Wulf had returned to the hotel, Dieter’s blood from the bubbling crease had been smeared on his hands and his shirt.
Wulf had fallen on Rae when his security men had landed on top of him, hard enough to knock the wind out of her.
His hands shook.
Wulf paced.
Brunhilde the cat watched him from her perch atop the back of one of the chairs in the living room. The nocturnal creature seemed to approve of his nighttime wakefulness. He scratched her soft ears as he passed her.
Friedhelm, who sat in the living room, reading a book on his tablet, glanced at him. “You need anything?”
“No. I’m quite all right.”
Friedhelm went back to reading, leaving Wulf to pace past him.
The Paris sky outside the sprawling windows was navy blue, as dark as it ever was in the City of Light. A pale glow hung over the block of apartments and hotels around them. Farther, against the stars and dark sky, lush green light traced the Eiffel Tower along its skeletal sides.
Wulf paced.
He was so absorbed in treading around the room, the blood and gunshots over the years ringing in his mind, in the horror that he had called the fire down again on people whom he loved, that he almost walked past Reagan, leaning against the doorjamb to the bedroom.
He stopped. “What are you doing up?”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing up?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
This earned him a look of utter disbelief on her lovely face.
“Honestly, I’m fine,” he said.
“Wow. You do that really well. Anyone else would have believed you. Come to bed.”
“I’ll toss. I’ll keep you awake. You need your sleep.”
She yawned. “I can’t sleep without you,” and she held out her hand.
He took her warm, soft little hand.
Rae led him back into the bedroom and kicked the door closed behind them.
Wulf said, “I don’t want to keep you up.”
She crawled under the covers and patted the bed beside her. “Get on in here.”
He complied. The sheets slithered over him like a smothering fog. “If I keep you awake, tell me, and I’ll go back to the living room.”
“Close your eyes.” She wrapped her arms around him. “You’re getting married tomorrow. Sleep.”
“I shouldn’t have come,” he said, tightening his arms around her lithe body, so warm next to him. “I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
“Shhhh. You aren’t responsible for the actions of madmen. You aren’t responsible for all that is evil in the world. Close your eyes.”
“You’re sure that you’re all right. No pain, no bleeding?”
“My feet feel like hamburger from those shoes your sister made me wear, but that’s it. Sleep.”
He laid his exhausted head on the pillow and closed his eyes.
Rae stroked his back and his arm, slowly.
He whispered, “I love you.”
Wulf heard her whisper near his ear, “I love you, too.”
He breathed and rested one hand on her hip, pulling her pelvis closer, feeling her body press against him.
He would to do anything to protect both of them.
Rae stroked his back, and the urge to pace faded.
The blazing fire of Wulf’s mind cooled, died down, and glowed like warm coals.
Rae’s warm brown eyes and soft smile were the last things Wulf remembered before he slept.