H.R.H.

They went in through the service entrance of the Ritz, on the rue Cambon. It was the same entrance Princess Diana had used when she stayed at the hotel. Many celebrities and royals came in the back entrance, and rode up in the tiny elevator, to avoid the paparazzi waiting for them out front. And then finally they were back in the safety of her room, and she relaxed again in his arms. They made love again that night, and there was a bittersweet feeling to it. She was so afraid that the photographs that had been taken would be used to force her hand with Parker. Once her father knew, she would be entirely at his mercy, which was the last thing she wanted.

Still worrying about it, she slept fitfully that night, and woke up several times with nightmares. Parker comforted her as best he could, and they were both quiet over breakfast the next morning, as the roomservice waiter poured their coffee. They waited until he left the room to discuss it further. Christianna trusted no one now. She had been shaken by the paparazzi attack the night before. She dreaded discussing it with her father, if it actually hit the press.

“Sweetheart, there's nothing you can do about it,” Parker said sensibly. “It happened. It's over. We'll deal with it if it comes out,” he said calmly, sipping the hot coffee.

“No, we won't deal with it, if it comes out,” she said, sounding strained and unhappy. She was tired after sleeping badly the night before, and obviously worried. “If it happens, I'll deal with it. And so will my father. I'll be dealing with him alone. I didn't want that to happen to us, until we were ready. Because I'll get one shot at this, to convince my father about us. He won't let me discuss it with him twice. And the way to start that conversation wasn't with a lie. I lied to him about coming to Paris.” But as always, she'd had no other choice. Her range of options was always narrow, and limited at best. “I just don't like it. Being exposed in the press is so tacky and unpleasant.” She had an aversion to that, unlike her brother, or perhaps because of him, and his frequent scandals, she was even more sensitive about it.

“Yes, it is.” He didn't disagree with her, nor did he react to anything she'd said. “But all we can do is make the best of it. What other choice do we have?”

“None.” She sighed, and drank her coffee, and made an effort not to beat him up about it. It wasn't his fault, but it was causing her grave concern, and he could see it.

After breakfast, they dressed and went out. They wandered down the Faubourg St. Honoré to look at the shops, and then went to L'Avenue for lunch. She relaxed finally and was relieved to see that no one had followed them. Max and Sam stayed close, and they continued to have Christianna and Parker use the back entrance of the hotel on the rue Cambon to go in and out. It was safer and more prudent.

After lunch, they went back to the hotel. They both packed, and then curled up on the bed. They had both booked the latest flights they could, so that they would have as much time together as possible. They didn't want to lose a minute with each other, or even less a lifetime, thanks to the paparazzi. Although she knew that her chances of convincing her father were slim to none, she didn't want anything to tip that balance further, and scandalous press in the tabloids would almost certainly do that.

They lay on the bed together for a long time, and eventually they made love for the last time, gently, slowly, tenderly, savoring their final moments together. And afterward she lay in his arms and cried. She was so afraid now that she would never be able to see him again. She wanted everything they'd had before, in Senafe, and all they had now were these tiny borrowed moments whenever they could find them. He made her promise that they would come to Paris again, whenever she could get away. He said he would arrange his schedule around her at a moment's notice. As a research doctor, and not one who saw patients regularly, he had more freedom to do that. She didn't know yet what effect the paparazzi's photographs would have, if any. She said they needed to lie low for a while and wait to see what happened. Hopefully, nothing. But that seemed too much to ask. If so, they had been lucky.