Paris, France 2023
"What's this?"
The gold embossed card that Valentin set down on the table caught the morning sun's light that streamed through the casement windows of their Paris Hotel room, glinting playfully, its midnight blue color vivid against the white cloth that enrobed the table. Anna set down the tablet that her eyes were habitually glued to and adjusted her glasses before reading aloud the printed words. Her fingers noticed the fine quality of the paper and felt the gilt masks embossed above the hand-lettered invitation.
"Invitation de Mascarade, Musée Jacquemart André. Le Réveillon du Nouvel," she said, then looked at him questioningly, "A masquerade ball?"
"Only the most coveted invitation in Paris. Can you think of a better way for us to celebrate the dawning of a New Year here in the City of Light?
Anna's eyes narrowed momentarily. "I'm a fugitive, Valentin. And I shouldn't have to remind you that you are aiding and abetting one."
"And?" he said nonchalantly, shrugging with hands in his pockets. She rolled her eyes.
"And we shouldn't be out where we could expose our location to Victor. He has a presence in this city. It seems an unnecessary risk just to have a night out."
"I thought you liked taking risks, darling?" he said, playful but with a slight edge of defensiveness in his voice.
"I like not being in prison," she retorted witheringly. "I don't want to risk the chance of our cover being blown. We are the only hope Lucy has. We need to keep our objective in focus," she said matter-of-factly.
Valentin was quiet for a moment before he nodded his head in agreement.
"You're right, of course. We can have our own New Year celebration right here," he reassured her. I want to be with you, and we don't need to leave this suite to do that."
His face fell for only the smallest of seconds before he took the card from her hand and replaced it with a fresh cup of cappuccino. She accepted the cup with a nod and a brief smile but studied him, noting tightness in his jaw and the doleful slope of his shoulders. He carefully tucked the invitation under the day's copy of Le Parisien that had arrived with their breakfast tray.
He was disappointed.
Anna felt a twinge of conscience. He was trying to give her a rare night out. And this, on top of all his efforts saving her from a prison cell.
"No, actually, I think I would like to attend," Anna took off her glasses and met his startled gaze. Her abrupt change of heart clearly caught him off guard. A look of pure delight showed on his face.
"Besides, I haven't been to Musée Jacquemart André in many years," her voice trailed off, and her eyes glazed over for a moment before brightening again, "I think I'd like to visit again for old time's sake. Will you escort me?"
"I'll make arrangements right away," he said so quickly his words tumbled over each other with excitement and then cleared his throat and recovered his composure. "We can go shopping together later-"
"No need," Anna stopped him, raising her hand with a flick of her wrist, halting his train of thoughts before they barreled out of the station and turned into action. "Leave that to me."
"Alright…," he said, slightly puzzled but ready to adjust his plans accordingly, "What were you thinking of wearing?" Anna tilted her head, her smile widening to a Cheshire grin. She shifted in her chair till she was facing him.
"You will see," she responded archly.
Valentin raised an eyebrow barely a fraction and nodded. He knew he should never underestimate her ability to surprise him. Or rather, he should never overestimate his ability to predict her.
Anna stretched her legs out with evident delight, an alluring sight that only distracted Valentin further. "It is a masquerade ball; shouldn't we enjoy an element of mystery, don't you think?" her eyes gleamed teasingly. He looked at her with a sly smile, but she let her eyes dance with his for a moment before she stood up and walked to the bedroom. She had had to prepare for the day's worth of errands now in front of her dress, shoes, and jewelry must all be considered. Getting ready for a ball at a moment's notice might be in her repertoire as a spy, but effort was needed. And she knew that with every effort she made, Valentin would return it tenfold.
Several Hours Later
If Valentin expected to learn more about her ensemble later, he was utterly disappointed. Anna's dress and sundries arrived an hour after she returned to their suite from her shopping spree, wrapped up securely in a protective cover, and he did not dare take a look. All would be revealed in due time. He smiled in silent anticipation. Being on the run had interrupted his plans to be as attentive to her as he had always dreamed of being. If blessed with Anna Devane on his arm, he had always imagined wining, dining, and romancing her. Showering her with the attention he wanted to pay her. But his father had dashed all those plans when he targeted Anna and forced them out into the cold. But even being on the run had its advantages. They were together; no need for him to dance around her longingly any longer, watching her shut down, throw up her guard, and keep him at bay. No need to clear his head of her, to think about something, anyone else, before it became akin to mania. She lay in his arms every night, welcoming his caresses and giving her own. The closest Valentin Cassadine knew he would ever get to heaven.
That afternoon Anna finally drifted in to join him in the bathroom just as Valentin finished shaving. He was ensuring a clean look for the evening's event. He picked up a towel and rubbed it over his cheeks, and he smiled as she stood next to him, looking enigmatically, then her eyes sparking with suggestiveness. He watched her like a hawk. Mindful of the way she made a point of inspecting his work, careful of the way she seemed to be waiting...for what he couldn't say. Putting the towel away, he was about to reach for the bottle of aftershave on the counter, but she was one step ahead, taking the bottle and opening it while looking at him with silent contemplation. One of the things Valentin treasured most about being in close quarters with her daily was the smallest and most quotidian of tasks that they now did side by side. Even something as mundane as brushing teeth felt companionable and familiar, and he cherished that intimacy. He could feel his pulse pick up, matching the corners of her lips as she looked him over; he straightened himself to his full height and leaned closer.
"Our last New Year celebration feels so far away, doesn't it?" Anna tipped the bottle and poured the liquid into her hands. She rubbed them together before bringing them to his face and massaging it onto his freshly smooth skin, then letting her hands trail down his shoulders and bare chest and further down until her fingers delicately traced the edge of the push towel that was slung low around his waist, "Hopefully, this time I'll have more than fifteen minutes to enjoy you after the strike of midnight."
"You can enjoy me right now if you want, darling," Valentin's voice was low and gruff in her ear. His eyebrow quirked, and he gave her a wolfish smile that sent delicious shivers through her. He was eying her with an anticipation that promised he was ready to give her body everything, anything, it was begging for. More potent still, beneath that cocksure smirk, was the expression of disbelief in his own good fortune. It was his sheer joy of being able to act upon his desire for her that Anna found practically irresistible. Their lust for each other was unrelenting, but tempted though she was, Anna decided to prolong the perfect tension that they were building, knowing it would pay dividends later.
"Yes, I know," a raise of her own eyebrow matched his as she tilted her head in agreement, "But If I do, then neither of us will ever be ready."
Valentin nodded, enjoying the feel of her hands against his bare skin.
"What time should we leave?" he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. It was his aim to let no opportunity for closeness be wasted.
"I don't think we should leave together. I think that we should arrive separately and our times staggered. That way, if Victor or anyone in his employ discovers us, we have at least a chance of one of us escaping. We are going out, but we can't let our guard down," Anna said casually, continuing to massage the last remnants of aftershave into his skin.
"You're going alone then?" Valentin frowned instantly, more displeased with being deprived of her company, even briefly, than the obvious concerns about Victor or Interpol finding them.
"No," she laughed, clearly amused at how decidedly unamused he was, "I'm going with you. We are just arriving separately.
Valentin's gloom deepened, and his gaze fell downwards; he couldn't help but feel irrationally annoyed with every person who would see Anna before he did. Anna saw the storm of disappointment gathering in his eyes and decided to take mercy on him. She pulled him into a kiss, deep and lingering, pressing her body flush against his. A promise of the evening to come. But she was sure to pull back before his hands found the tie of her robe.
"I need time to prepare, so I arranged for a car to pick me up first, then one for you," she stroked his cheekbones with her thumbs lovingly and disentangled herself from his arms. "I'll meet you at the ball. No peeking," with the warning and a final glance at him, she disappeared behind the bedroom door. Valentin was left alone for the rest of the afternoon to get himself ready, hardly the amusement he had in mind.
But he could wait. Valentin Cassadine was not a patient man by nature – except when it counted – except for her. Well, that was the beauty of it, wasn't it? That after decades of separation, their time had finally come.
To be continued...
