Blank Slate by Terry Winder
It was the first time since they'd wandered through the Embassy doors, that they'd had a moment to themselves. Just the two of them.
Yesterday was dead or married, living in Paris. Today, all they had was each other. Strangers in a strange land.
Diana had arranged for them to have the guest quarters in the Embassy, since neither one had a place to stay. John noted the Amazon had arranged for adjoining rooms.
They spent the night in John's room – talking. Shayera would later note that it took them thirty-three years, but at long last they were finally talking.