And So It Goes (Stevens Book 10)

Chapter 8

Agatha awoke to sunlight streaming across her pillow. It felt early, and she rolled over to look at the clock to see that it was only half-past seven in the morning. When she sat up and pushed her heavy hair out of her eyes, she noticed Roark sitting in a lounge chair on the balcony overlooking the city street below.

The fact that he was still there made her heart skip a little. She was sure he would leave.

Agatha reached for a robe on the chair next to the bed and wrapped it around herself. Then, taking a deep breath, she joined him on the balcony.

"Good morning," she greeted as she slid into the lounge chair next to him.

He had one knee up with his elbow resting on it as he ran his dog tags through his fingers like rosary beads. Roark turned at her greeting and gave her a small smile.

"Good morning." He took his time, letting his eyes rake over her relaxed form before he turned his attention back to the view. "You're up early."

"So are you. In fact, I'm surprised that you're still here. I thought for sure you would have left already." Agatha kept her gaze trained on his strong profile and noticed he frowned.

"Why would I do that? We agreed to two weeks, didn't we?" He turned his attention onto his hands that were still working the chain.

"We did, but I had the thought that maybe one night would scratch the itch, and you would change your mind about the two weeks." Agatha shrugged in an attempt to let him know it didn't matter as she turned her gaze onto the city below.

"One night was definitely not enough," Roark said in a low sexy voice.

"So Paris?" Agatha asked as warmth filled her chest at his words.

"Paris," he agreed as he pushed up out of his recliner and walked towards her. "But first," he leaned down and placed a long kiss on her lips that made her heart race, "a shower and breakfast. How do you feel about traveling by train?"

"I'm O.K. with it." Her voice was a mere whisper.

Who was this man? He seemed almost lighthearted.

They took their time getting ready, deciding to take the scenic train route to Paris and stay overnight on the train. Roark had to go back to his room and pack his stuff before they could leave, and it gave Agatha a chance to text her family.

Her family was large, so texting was always the most efficient means of communication because it kept one from having the same conversation twenty times.

They thought she would be returning to the states immediately, but when she mentioned that she needed some time to decompress, no one fought her on it. They all told her to take her time and that they would see her in a few weeks.

Roark was not who she expected him to be away from the military. He was considerate and incredibly charming to everyone he met. Agatha caught herself staring at him in confusion more than once as they made their way to the train.

"Who are you?" she asked as they settled into their compartment.

Roark's lips twitched. "I am no longer your superior or co-worker. I can afford to relax."

"The others would probably never believe it." Agatha shook her head once again in disbelief. She almost missed the old Merrick.

"Probably not," he agreed with an amused expression, "but the others are not my problem right now."

"Then what is your problem?" Agatha asked as she threw her legs up on the bench seat, which converted into a bed.

"My stomach, let's go find the dining car," he held out his hand for Agatha to take.