A/N: Don't hurt me! I am so sorry for the wait! Quite honestly, updating slipped my mind. I'll try harder to update faster!

By the way, the Hotel de Crillon is a real hotel in Paris. I highly suggest you go to the official website and look at the photos. It's gorgeous. I would LOVE to visit. Lucky Bella!

Hope you all enjoy the chapter! :)

"For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul."
- Judy Garland

Chapter Three

Golden Lights

There were colors. Bright, dancing splotches, flying over my eyelids.

My eyes followed them as they zoomed past; first red, then yellow, green, then blue. They were hopping past too fast for me to keep track of, blurry and shapeless. They were mesmerizing, spellbinding. I had to know what they were. The floating orbs of colored light continued to fly past. I tried to move my hand towards them, wanting to catch the mysterious, dancing colors within my fist, but my arm was quite stiff and I couldn't move it. It was as though a heavy weight lay upon it, rendering it useless.

It took me a minute to realize that the heavy weight was me. And it took me a whole minute more to realize that I had fallen asleep awkwardly atop my arm, explaining why it felt so stiff and tingly and why I was stifling a yawn.

Slowly, blearily, I pulled my eyelids open.

I was in a car, and I was curled upon the passenger seat facing the window. Somehow, there was a secure seatbelt wrapped around me and a heavy black coat had been draped over me like a blanket. I looked down at it, wondering how in the world it had been strewn across me, when a familiar red light passed over my arm.

I lifted my head and looked out the window, finally finding the source of the dancing lights. I barely held in a gasp of bewilderment.

Paris in the nighttime was more beautiful that I could describe. I gaped out the window, pressing a pale hand to the cool glass, wanting to touch Paris, wanting to feel Paris. There were slick cars riding past, the billowing smoke of cigars swirling from the windows. There seemed to be lights absolutely everywhere, hanging from the overpass, drifting off the numerous signs. Even the people seemed to be alighted; there was an unmistakable glow in their faces that could never be found in the inhabitants of Forks.

Something else hung in the air as well; romance and mystery and the unmistakable air of adventure. The moon hung lowly in a perfect crescent, glowing and smiling. The night was dense and black but I was simply transparent with joy.

And as if all could not be more perfect in that moment, over the tops of buildings and streetlights, I could see the tip of a gleaming picture from my dreams: the Eiffel Tower.

I let out an excited breath and fogged the glass. There was a low chuckle and I turned, genuinely surprised to find I was not alone in my exhilaration.

Carlisle smiled at me knowingly, his hands perched lazily upon the steering wheel. "Good morning, Bella. Or rather, good evening."

I grimaced, embarrassed. Looking around awkwardly in the car, I said the first thing that came to my head. "How did I…?"

He laughed; it was a ringing, bell tone laugh. "I woke you after we landed," He explained, "but you had been quite… incapacitated. I helped you to the car and you fell asleep again right away. I hope you don't mind that I let you sleep, Bella. I know you probably wanted to see all these sights right away, but you were just so tired. I didn't have the heart to wake you."

He looked genuinely worried that I would be upset about this. I mustered a convincing smile and shook my head.

"Of course not, Carlisle."

He looked convinced. I turned to marvel out the window again. There was a silent moment in the car, thick with our universal excitement, before Carlisle spoke again.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

I didn't have to ask what he meant. I nodded, keeping my eyes glued to the sights before me. I cracked the window and let the cool breeze wash over my warm face.

"Better than I could have ever imagined in my wildest dreams. The books I've read…pictures I've seen…they just can't-"

"-compare." Carlisle finished, equally entranced.

I turned in my seat to look at him. His eyes, though observing the road, flickered over each aspect of our surroundings, taking it all in. He was serene, but he exuded excitement. His face was composed yet thoughtful, so I knew he was thinking hard. I only wished I knew exactly what went on inside of his mind. Sometimes he was just like a closed book: there was one solid cover, but inside, it was filled with thoughts and words and feelings that were so hard to find unless you read every letter.

Naturally, being a bookworm, I longed to read that secretive, closed-off book. But I could never seem to get my hands on it.

"Carlisle," I inquired, finally resisting the tempting sights outside the window and commanding his undivided attention, "Make me a promise."

His brow lifted slightly. "A promise?"

"Yes," I nodded, fiercely. "One, solid promise. You have to keep it, fulfill it to its extent."

He bit back a smile at my childish request. "What would you like me to promise you, Bella?"

I sighed and looked out the front window, once again absorbing myself in the lights, letting them blind me. "Adventures. We have to have adventures."

"What sort of adventures?" I could tell by his tone of voice that he wasn't mocking me. He seemed as absorbed into the idea as I was.

"This is Paris, Carlisle. Who knows what sorts of adventures await us behind each corner? I want to do everything I possibly can while we're here. I don't want to miss one single thing. Not one."

He nodded slowly. "Adventures…" He repeated.

I bit my lip and waited for his response. Carlisle seemed to be thinking again.

"I like the sound of that, Bella. Adventures seem like a plausible idea."

I held out my pinky finger childishly but looked at him quite seriously. "Repeat after me then. I, Carlisle, do solemnly swear to Bella Swan that we will share the most exciting, enthralling, crazy adventures we can possibly find while here in Paris."

Carlisle grinned in amusement, but clasped his pinky around mine and repeated each of my words with conviction and perfection. I pulled my hand away, satisfied.

I sighed as we passed through a tunnel, not particularly enjoying the blockage of my view.

We continued to drive along the winding roads, with me marveling in each sight that passed and Carlisle particularly enjoying my excitement, until we finally began to approach a building. From what I could see, it was palace-like, illuminated by the numerous windows that lined the exterior and glowed in golden light. Paris continued to amaze me. I felt my jaw slack in fascination as Carlisle drove closer to the palace, and as we closed the distance, it seemed to grow more magnificent.

From a closer perspective I could see the intricate fountain perched in it's courtyard, the engravings on the stone building, each pillar and each lamp post; they all exuded brilliance. This had to be where the Queen lived. I was sure of it.

Carlisle turned the car and we drove straight up to the front doors. I looked at him, confused.

"What is this place?"

Carlisle smiled, showing all his teeth. "Bella…this is our hotel."

Before I could recover from the shock of this revelation, a gloved hand was pulling open my door and escorting me out of the car. The valet was a handsome, smart-looking man, probably in his twenties. My words stuck in my throat as he smiled heartily at me, bowing his head in salute.

"Bienvenue à l'hôtel de Crillon, mademoiselle. Puis-je vous aider dans vos sacs?"

I stared at him dumbly, lost in the flurry of his words and his growing smile. I nodded my head randomly pretending to understand. Carlisle pulled himself out of the car and walked over, amused by my lack of bilingualism.

The valet looked at Carlisle for help when he did not receive an answer from me, and Carlisle, laughing slightly, addressed the matter in rapid French.

I watched amazed. The effect he had on people was contagious; the valet was all smiles as he threw a furtive glance at me and chuckled.

"Ah," He said in a heavy French accent, "she iz American, that one."

Carlisle smiled at me fondly and said something else, causing the valet to laugh harder. My cheeks heated in embarrassment. I picked at my nails as they conversed.

The valet pulled a golden cart from inside and began to load our bags onto it. Another smiling bellhop appeared from nowhere and pushed the cart inside the hotel as Carlisle passed the valet (whose named turned out to be Marc) the car keys. They said goodbye and Carlisle turned to me.

My cheeks must've still been red because Carlisle placed a reassuring hand on my back as he led me inside.

"Don't be too embarrassed, Bella, French people laugh at anything. Especially Americans."

I couldn't respond because as soon as we entered through the doors, more beauty bombarded me. The front foyer was gorgeous, to say the least. The recurring theme of gold and luxury was everywhere. The floor was a sparkling golden and black checkered pattern, and there were chandeliers and mahogany furniture placed everywhere tastefully. People bustled about despite the late hour; employees in suits, women in fur coats, harassed bellhops. I smiled at Carlisle.

"This can't be real. I can't possibly be staying in a place like this."

"Bella," Carlisle chuckled, "We've only just stepped through the door and you're mesmerized already. I guarantee that this will be least of the beauty Paris has to offer."

My eyes glowed. Carlisle, sensing my vulnerability to be distracted, took my hand and led me to the check-in counter. There was more fast French exchanged and I zoned out for a few minutes until the check-in lady attempted some English.

"Iz she wiz you, Monsieur Cullen?" She eyed me and grinned toothily. I smiled apprehensively.

"Yes, she is. This is Bella."

The lady smiled mischievously at us while getting our suite key ready. I could swear she even winked at me and waggled her eyebrows at Carlisle. I was confused.

"Well," She announced significantly while giving Carlisle the key to the room, "I 'ope you two 'ave fun!"

Laughing, she slinked away into the back room. I looked up at Carlisle for some explanation.

"What was that all about? The winking and the laughing…" I trailed off, perplexed.

Carlisle cleared his throat and smiled at me embarrassed. I couldn't understand it. Then, his eyes trailed to our joined hands, then back at me. It finally clicked.

"Oh… she thought we…oh. I suppose it does sort of seem that way." I laughed awkwardly. Carlisle's embarrassment passed, and then he seemed as unruffled as ever, despite the woman's assumption of our…status. But we weren't like that, we both knew it, and that should've been enough.

But somehow the check-in lady's actions struck a nerve with me. Her assumption of us being together didn't bother me as much as it should have. I think the tiredness was getting to me.

Carlisle slyly attempted to pull his hand away. I let it go, not wanting to but not wanting him to be uncomfortable either.

"So what floor are we on?" I asked cheerily, changing the topic.

Carlisle smiled gratefully. "Top floor."

"Top floor? Isn't that like…crazy expensive?" I eyed the golden elevators we walked towards apprehensively. This place must cost a fortune. The Cullens were flamboyant, I had to admit that.

"Not really." He shrugged offhandedly. I didn't believe him.

When we reached our suite, it suddenly came to me that we would be sharing one room. Sure, Carlisle didn't sleep so we wouldn't have to share a bed or anything, but it might still be a little awkward. I smiled sheepishly at him as he slid the card in and out, and then held the door open for me to go first.

I was floored. The room was…massive. There were beautiful red and golden couches taking up an expanse of the sitting room, which was lined with enormous windows, and under our feet, was a thick, velvety carpet and a pianoforte rested idly in the corner. My feet began to move under me as I drifted towards the bedroom, my eyes wider than ever. A large bed, double that of a king-size, was pushed up against a wall and draped in burgundy and gold linens. Beside that (and as I looked, my heart swelled) was a door to an expansive balcony.

Carlisle had followed me into the room and leaned against the doorframe watching me bounce in delight. I turned and ran to him in my joy, grabbing his arm, wanting to share this with someone. He smiled, amused.

Suddenly something dawned on me.

"I'm going to have to buy a lot of souvenirs. For Alice, Charlie, me…"

He chuckled, and something glinted in his eyes. Reaching to the night table, he plucked a rose out of the vase and tucked in behind my ear.

"That can be your first souvenir. A rose from Paris. Kind of cliché, isn't it?" He smiled and fixed my hair, pushing it behind my ear in order to see the rose clearly.

I touched the flower gingerly. "Not at all. It's perfect." I whispered.

Carlisle froze, his hand on my hair. Recovering, he retracted his hand and stepped back, noticing for the first time how close we were standing. He traipsed to the door and placed a hand on the handle, pausing to look at me.

"Have a good night then, Bella."

He closed the door and I heard his footsteps echo down the hall and then finally disappear. I turned to bed that was now my own.

Touching the rose, I knew that I would, indeed, have a very good night.