26 Hours in Paris by Demi Alex Page A

anything else. Paul wants a catfight. He thinks that we each want it so bad that we’ll turn on each other.”
    â€œI doubt that, sweetheart.” He laughed and shook his head. “That’s just Paul.” He adjusted her plate and cut into her eggs. Forking a mouthful, he presented it and waited for her to accept.
    She closed her lips around the small bite, and didn’t question the ease with which she’d reverted to speaking to and confiding in the man who was destined to break her heart. Instead, she gave in to the feeling. Damn, she deserved some happiness.
    â€œAnyway, he’s not getting the fight. I told Charlie to write the best feature she can, because that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
    â€œHence, your Paris research.”
    â€œExactly,” she replied, sipping the hot chocolate and licking the whipped cream off her upper lip. “I have a list of all the best places to fall in love. I also made a schedule.” She retrieved her folder and placed it in the center of the small table.
    She continued eating while he flipped through the stapled sheets. Each grin, smirk, or shake of his head had her perching on the edge of her seat. He didn’t look up until he’d reviewed the whole file and anticipation was pushing at her calm.
    â€œWell?”
    â€œImpressive list.” He cocked his head in an amused tilt. “If we start right now, we’ll be done two minutes before City Wings hits the stands. I’m sorry, Kat. You either need to remain in Paris for much longer or return to the city for weeks to cover that list. It’s impossible to see all those places in one day.”
    â€œYou promised,” she reminded him. “You can do whatever you set your mind to. Are you backing out on me, Marko Renard?”
    â€œNo, sweetheart.” He smiled and touched her chin. “I’m absolutely doing what I’ve set my mind to. As far as your research, we’ve started with the perfect spot. Not to fall in love with Paris—but to find love in Paris.”
    She wrinkled her nose, but let him guide her to look past the window and at the pedestrians outside.
    â€œI introduce to you the sidewalk café. These are the places to see and be seen, to meet new and old people, and to fuel your heart’s desires for any adventure. Whether a tourist trap or a local gathering spot, large or small, expensive or affordable, a Parisian café is at the core of all relationships.”
    â€œI see.”
    There was a young couple snuggled together at a table beneath the same heater she’d spied earlier. They fed each other a decadent-looking chocolate cake and shared long kisses between bites. A grandmother played with a baby, while a younger version of the woman motioned a young man to the table and offered him a chair to join them. Two men laughed as they exchanged animated stories. An older couple shared a cup of tea in silence, but with hands intertwined beneath the table.
    â€œI like the café angle,” she announced. “It’s romantic.”
    â€œIt may be romantic, but it’s not an angle. It’s a way of life.” He looked over her head and nodded to someone. “Now what about the bridges?”
    â€œThere are so many. At first, I wanted to see the Pont des Arts and envision all the lovers who had left locks there through time, but a man I met on the plane mentioned a different bridge that piqued my interest.”
    With a grimace, he held up a finger and requested she hold the thought. Kat turned to see a messenger approach them. Dressed rather fashionably for someone who made his living on a bicycle, the young man greeted them, then handed her a luxurious black and silver shopping bag.
    Marko thanked the deliveryman, and placed a bill in his hand as he returned the signed slip. The other fellow gave a slight bow and tipped an imaginary hat. “ Adieu .”
    â€œSo which bridge intrigued