The alternate ending cut from the original version of Operation: Paris
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Operation Paris, Super Agent Romantic Suspense Series, Book 2 – Alternate Ending
©2009-2024 Misty Evans
Villa Bernier, Switzerland
“Okay,” Lawson said. “Close your eyes, Z.”
Zara smiled at her new husband and, for once, did as she was told. She felt his hand slip into hers as he opened the door to the Tower Room roof and guided her through.
It was nearing midnight, but the night air that touched her face and bare shoulders was warm and welcoming. Her feet were bare, too; the kitten heels kicked off hours ago so she could dance with her leading man.
From the garden below, her father’s booming voice, the sound of clinking glass, and a chorus of laughter floated up to her ears. The wedding reception had been going strong for seven hours and was just now beginning to break up, the small group of family and friends dispersing to the east wing of Christian’s estate. The west wing was reserved for the newlyweds.
Lawson’s hand went to her upper arm to stop her. “Wait here and keep your eyes closed.”
Zara smiled, wondering what Lawson was up to. Conrad Flynn and his wife, former CIA operative Julia Torrison, had guarded the door to the Tower room all day. Zara had been forbidden to set foot in it or go to the roof. Lucie, Teddy, C.J., Rooster, Johnny, and even her mother had come and gone from the room with giant smiles. Several times while she was in the garden checking the decorations with Lawson’s mother and sisters, she had heard Christian and Lawson shouting instructions. In the west wing, Christian had gone by her, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.
Now she was here, about to see what all the commotion was about and to start her married life with Lawson. Their honeymoon would include a few days in Paris. Zara wanted to show Lawson the Paris she knew and loved, have their rain-checked dinner, and visit the revered Musee d’Orsay, the Renaissance palace of the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, and even Tuileries Gardens.
Her love for him continued to swell in her heart with every passing minute. True to his word, he spent every day trying to make her happy. For two weeks, he had worked at a feverish pace, helping her remodel the lower level of her duplex. The night before her first ballet class, he drew her into the studio and asked her to dance for him. She had.
Later, her dance ended in front of the long mirror, with Lawson slowly peeling her clothes off until she stood naked. He’d pressed kiss upon hot kiss on her from head to toe, feeding on her body, murmuring praises for it and her spirit everywhere his lips touched. Then, with both of them facing the mirror, he’d made love to her. With every caress, every stroke, he’d made her feel absolutely perfect.
“All right, Zara,” Lawson said, coming up behind her. His arms circled her waist, and his cheek touched the side of her head. “Open your eyes.”
Zara’s breath caught in her throat as she looked around the rooftop. Hundreds of candles dotted the night with white light. A bottle of champagne sat chilling in a silver bucket and plates of fresh fruit and petit fours covered the table she and Lawson had first made love on. Next to her was a round bed, flush on the rooftop and layered with scarlet silk sheets and pillows. Sheer tulle draped elegantly from a canopy hanging over the top and secured into the tower wall.
One of Lawson’s thumbs rubbed her stomach through the white satin of her dress. “What do you think, partner?”
Tears sweetly stung the backs of her eyes. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, unable to speak out loud.
Lawson drew her closer, hugging her as if she were fragile. “Tonight, when I make love to you under the stars, Zara Morgan Vaughn, it will be with a proper bed under you.”
Zara smiled. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be pampered, she thought, curling into her husband’s body. In fact, as long as it was Lawson doing the pampering, she could get used to it real fast.
Turning in his arms, she looked up into his face. “Lawson?”
“Yes?”
“Will you do something for me?”
“Anything,” he said, and Zara knew it was true.
“Will you dance with me?”
His smiling lips brushed hers. “It would be my pleasure, Zara.”
Surrounded by candlelight and beneath the canopy of stars, Zara wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and danced the dance of her life.
***