Chapter 65: Moments Interrupted
As Edward led Bella around the corner, the hallway opened up into a grand ballroom that instantly captivated her. The room was vast, with high, gilded ceilings and sparkling chandeliers that cast a warm glow over the polished floor. The soft, elegant hum of live instrumental music filled the space, drawing Bella's attention to a small, sophisticated band on a raised dais at the side of the room. Couples twirled and swayed to the music, their graceful movements exuding a sense of timeless elegance that Bella had never experienced before.
Formal dancing like this was completely foreign to her. Growing up, she had never had the chance to try anything so traditional, and she doubted many people her age had either. The other dancers around them were quite a bit older than she and Edward—or at least, appeared to be. Bella smiled to herself, the irony not lost on her. Edward, who seemed so youthful, was by far the oldest person in the room, being well over a hundred years old.
Bella glanced up at Edward, her smile widening. She had been thrilled when he asked her to go dancing earlier today. She hadn't quite known what to expect, but her first clue came when her mom eagerly helped her pick out a formal dress from her vast collection. Bella had fallen in love with the tight little strapless red number she was currently wearing, and her mom had enthusiastically told her it was one of her favorites, considering the dress to be quite lucky. Bella could only hope some of that luck would rub off on her tonight. But even with how beautiful everything around them looked, it was Edward who held her full attention. He looked so debonair in Jean Paul's black suit—polished, refined, and oh-so-yummy.
Edward couldn't help but grin as Bella's smile lit up the room. She looked absolutely stunning, and it took all his self-control not to stare. The dress was far more revealing than anything he had seen her wear, its low bodice teasing him with a glimpse of her milky white flesh that he had been fantasizing about since the day they met. His thoughts strayed into dangerous territory—his mind wandering to places that were wildly inappropriate for what he hoped was, in every sense, their first date. He forced himself to focus, lifting his gaze from the curve of her breasts to lock onto her eyes. The last thing he wanted was for his body to betray him and create an embarrassing scene.
"May I have this dance?" he asked, his tone playful as he extended his hand toward her.
Bella's eyes sparkled. "Yes, I believe you may," she replied with a soft chuckle, placing her hand in his. The moment their fingers intertwined, a wave of warmth washed over her, and when Edward's other hand slid smoothly behind her back, resting against her bare skin, a tingle of anticipation raced through her.
The back of her dress was open, and the feel of his warm palm against her skin sent a shiver down her spine. She barely had time to adjust to the sensation before Edward began to move, guiding her with a grace that left her momentarily breathless. He moved effortlessly, leading her across the dance floor with the kind of confidence that made it clear he was in complete control.
Bella, on the other hand, felt a flicker of uncertainty. She had never danced like this before, and the intricate steps were completely foreign to her. A quick glance down at their feet gave her some idea of how to match Edward's lead, and she did her best to follow his movements, trusting him to guide her through the unfamiliar rhythm.
"First time?" Edward asked, his voice tinged with surprise as he noticed Bella's hesitation with the steps.
Bella glanced up at him with a wry smile, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Yeah," she admitted with a hint of humor. "My high school days and, really, my entire early human life didn't exactly involve much dancing. I'll tell you about that period someday—you'll get a good laugh. And by the time I got to college and had the chance to dance a little… well, it was nothing like this."
Edward raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the idea of modern dancing, though he set those thoughts aside for now. This moment wasn't about comparisons; it was about enjoying their outing in Paris together. He smiled warmly. "Well then," he said softly, "just follow my lead, and I'll have you twirling like a pro in no time." With that, he began to guide Bella through the steps of the waltz.
Bella was thoroughly entranced by the experience of dancing with Edward. The hours had melted away as they moved together, and now, she no longer needed his guidance. Her movements flowed just as gracefully as his, every step in perfect sync. Edward had been the perfect teacher, and his hands-on approach had delighted her to no end. She reveled in the way they moved, the closeness they shared with every turn and twirl.
The night was winding down, with only a few couples left in the grand ballroom, the warm glow of chandeliers casting a golden sheen over the polished floor. Bella knew their evening would soon come to an end—the ballroom closed at midnight—but she wasn't ready to let go of this magical moment just yet. As Edward twirled her around effortlessly, she felt as if she were floating, lost in the freedom and lightness of their shared dance.
Then, without warning, Edward executed a move he hadn't done before. He steadied her in his arms before dipping her low, her hair nearly grazing the floor. The world seemed to slow as he bent forward with her, bringing his face just inches from hers. Bella's breath caught, her body tensing with anticipation as their gazes locked.
His eyes were like liquid fire, deep and mesmerizing, piercing straight into her soul as if seeing every hidden corner of her heart. The intensity between them was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desire. She felt the heat of his breath ghosting over her skin, the thin space between them charged with electricity. In that moment, all she wanted was for him to lean in just a little more, to close that final distance and press his lips to hers.
She could see the longing in his eyes, the same desire that she felt coursing through her. It took every ounce of her restraint not to lift her head and meet him halfway. Time seemed to stand still, the world around them fading away as they hovered on the edge of a kiss that could change everything.
But just as she thought the moment would finally happen, the music abruptly stopped. The spell was broken as a voice crackled through the microphone, thanking everyone for coming. Bella's heart sank as reality rushed back in, the moment slipping away before it could fully take hold.
Edward gently pulled her upright, their eyes still locked for a lingering moment, the unspoken tension hanging between them like a promise waiting to be fulfilled.
Rats! What timing, Bella inwardly cursed as Edward slowly pulled her upright, his smile, though, was warm and genuine, softening the sting of disappointment.
"I had a lovely time, Bella," he said, his voice a smooth, quiet murmur that lingered between them. "Thank you for coming with me."
She watched, her breath catching slightly, as he leaned forward. His hand cradled hers with a tenderness that made the moment feel just as intimate. When his lips pressed against her skin in a gentle kiss, it sent a warm ripple of pleasure coursing through her, awakening every nerve in her body.
It wasn't the kiss she had been yearning for—but feeling his lips on her hand was more than enough to keep the tension between them smoldering just beneath the surface. It was enough... for now.
Bella glanced down at her arm, intertwined with Edward's, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. The warmth of his body beside her, the solid feel of his arm, sent a pleasant shiver through her. Above them, the night sky was a canopy of stars, and the soft glow of Paris's lights cast a romantic sheen over the city. They stood in line, waiting to ascend the Eiffel Tower, and the anticipation thrummed through her. It was her first time visiting the tower at night, and it would be Edward's first time seeing it at all. That thought alone made this moment feel even more special.
Instinctively, she snuggled a little closer to him, her body gravitating toward the comfort of his presence. She had grown accustomed to the sensation of his warm skin, the subtle brush of his hand against hers, the way her senses seemed to heighten when he was near. Every step they took together in Paris had brought them closer, each moment charged with an unspoken tension that simmered just beneath the surface.
The past week had been nothing short of magical. After the first day spent reconnecting with her mom and Jean Paul, Edward had surprised her by asking if he could take her dancing. She had, of course, said yes. That night had felt like their first formal date, and the memory of it still sent a flutter through her. Her mom had loaned her a gorgeous dress—a deep red gown that hugged her curves—and Edward... he had looked devastating in a sleek black suit, the sight of him stealing her breath away.
That night had been perfect, almost dreamlike. She had never experienced ballroom dancing before, but Edward had taught her the steps, and soon he was guiding her effortlessly—his movements graceful, his hand resting on the small of her back as he led her around the dance floor. The entire time, there had been this undercurrent between them—a heated tension she couldn't shake. His touch left a trail of fire in its wake, even though his hand had remained steady and respectful.
When the night had finally ended, Bella had found herself silently praying for a kiss, her hope building with every second that passed. But it wasn't to be. Instead, she had to settle for something far more restrained—yet still desirable—a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. Even now, she could remember the way his lips had brushed her skin, leaving a lingering warmth that had simmered in her thoughts for days.
Now, as she stood beside him under the glittering Parisian sky, Bella couldn't help but wonder what this night might bring. The cool night air wrapped around them, but the warmth of Edward's presence next to her was all she could feel. With every shared glance, every soft brush of their hands as they moved further up in line, the tension between them pulled tighter, like a thread connecting them. Her excitement grew—not from the anticipation of reaching the top of the Eiffel Tower—but from what might come next with Edward.
While waiting, her thoughts drifted back to the incredible moments she and Edward had shared over the past week, each one etched vividly in her memory. One of the more memorable was when Jean Paul had arranged a VIP tour for them at the Louvre. It had been an experience unlike any other, and even though she had been to the museum years ago, it felt like seeing it for the first time. The Louvre was so vast, so full of history, that this visit took them through sections she had never explored before. And it wasn't just the exhibits—the behind-the-scenes access Jean Paul had arranged gave the tour an entirely different feel.
Though Jean Paul hadn't worked at the museum in years, his connections ran deep. He still had many friends there, and thanks to him, she and Edward were able to get a glimpse of the inner workings of the museum—the carefully controlled environments where priceless works of art were restored and preserved, the hidden corridors where staff moved about unseen, keeping the place running smoothly. The quiet hum of activity behind closed doors added a sense of awe to the experience, a reminder that the Louvre was not just a museum, but a living institution dedicated to preserving the finest pieces of human achievement.
Edward, never having visited the Louvre before, had been captivated from the moment they stepped inside. His eyes had widened as they walked through the grand galleries, the sheer scale of the building and the masterpieces it housed leaving him speechless. Bella could see the wonder in his expression, and it warmed her heart to witness him experiencing this part of Paris for the first time. She had always loved the Louvre, but seeing it through Edward's eyes made it feel new again.
They spent hours wandering the galleries, pausing to admire famous pieces, losing themselves in the beauty and history surrounding them. From the Mona Lisa's enigmatic smile to the grandiose sculptures that filled the halls, everything seemed to resonate more deeply with Edward by her side.
Sadly, Jean Paul and her mom hadn't been able to join them on the tour. Jean Paul's colleagues at the museum would have certainly remembered her mom from her human days, and… well, she was very different now.
Tomorrow they would be picking up their new paperwork, and with their time in Paris coming to a close, Bella and Edward had saved one special experience for last: the Eiffel Tower. She didn't mind the wait tonight, though. The line moved slowly, but she was more than content with the company. Their arms brushed now and then until, finally, she gave up all pretense and snuggled closer against him, happily leaning into his warmth. They passed the time with small talk and playful banter, reliving their favorite moments in Paris so far.
Bella loved hearing the little things Edward found fascinating. His observations were often about the most ordinary details—things she would never give a second thought to—but to Edward, who had lived in a different world, they were intriguing. The automated ticket machines, the streetlights that flickered on without a human touch, or even something as mundane as the design of modern shoes—he found them all worthy of comment. And his wonder was contagious. She found herself seeing the world through his eyes, noticing the modern world's subtleties that she had always overlooked.
There was something about the way Edward spoke—his voice low, steady, and deliberate—that pulled her in. Even as they waited, the city bustling with the chatter of tourists all around them, Bella felt as if they were in their own little bubble. The world had shrunk to just the two of them, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
Finally, they reached the top of the tower. The view was breathtaking. The city stretched out in every direction, illuminated by a sea of lights that glittered like a thousand stars. Paris truly lived up to its name as the 'City of Lights,' and from this vantage point, it felt like they were standing at the top of the world, untouchable.
Bella's gaze drifted over the stunning cityscape, but after a moment, she glanced toward Edward, a soft smile playing on her lips. That's when she noticed—he wasn't looking at the view. He hadn't even glanced at it. His eyes were fixed on her, the quiet intensity in his expression making her breath hitch.
Her smile faltered for just a second, replaced by something deeper, more electric. His gaze held hers, and suddenly, it was as if the entire city disappeared, leaving only the two of them. The soft glow from the tower's lights reflected in his eyes, making them seem even more alive, more vibrant. She could feel the raw energy flowing between them, the air between them charged, humming with an almost tangible connection.
Over the past week, they had grown so much closer—a slow burn building with every shared glance, every accidental or deliberate touch. They hadn't crossed the line into true intimacy yet, but as she stood there, locked in Edward's gaze, Bella could feel something shifting between them. The change was undeniable, and she welcomed it.
"Our time in Paris has truly been the best week of my life," Edward said softly, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity. He meant every word. Even if he ignored the last ninety years, nothing in his past life came close to the time he had spent with Bella.
"I couldn't agree more," Bella replied, her smile warm and genuine as a surge of excitement rushed through her. She felt Edward's fingers gently slide between hers, his touch sending a pleasant shiver along her skin. Without hesitation, she leaned into him, her body fitting perfectly against his as she looked up at him. This was it… the moment she had been waiting for.
Edward's gaze shifted down to Bella's lips, slightly parted and inviting, and the air between them seemed to thicken. His senses were consumed by her—her warmth, the soft scent of her skin, the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. His eyes flicked back up to meet hers, and what he saw there sent a thrill coursing through him. Excitement... Longing... Desire... It was all there, reflected in her gaze, mirroring his own feelings.
The pull between them was magnetic, undeniable. He had wanted to kiss her for so long, and now—right here, right now—it felt like the perfect moment. Slowly, deliberately, he began to lean in, an energy humming through him that mirrored the intensity of his desire. Bella responded, moving toward him, her gaze locked on his as their faces drew closer.
The world seemed to fade away, the only thing that existed was Bella. Her lips, so close now he could almost feel their softness. His breath mingled with hers as he closed the distance, his fingers tightening around hers in anticipation. The moment was charged, electric, every inch of his body aching to finally feel her kiss.
And then—CRASH!
The loudest clatter erupted from their right, shattering the quiet tension. Edward jerked his head to the side, just as Bella did the same. A young girl had knocked over a large stack of folding chairs, the metallic thud echoing through the night air. Startled, the child began wailing as her father rushed to comfort her.
For a brief moment, Edward just stared, completely disoriented by the intrusion. He could feel the magic of the moment slip away like sand through his fingers. He glanced back at Bella, and the look on her face matched his own—disappointment, plain and simple. Her lips were still parted, her eyes full of frustration as she met his gaze.
He offered her a lopsided, disgruntled smile, squeezing her hand gently. Though the moment had been stolen, he hoped the gesture conveyed what he was feeling—that there would be more moments like this. And next time, they wouldn't be interrupted.
Bella gave him a small, rueful smile in return, the heat between them still simmering just beneath the surface. The kiss may have been lost, but the fire between them was far from extinguished.
"…I'm sure, Mom. You get what you need. I'll just relax here for a bit." Bella smiled warmly, waving as her mother grabbed her keys and headed toward the door. Since becoming a vampire, her mom had developed quite the talent for painting and was now off to collect a large shipment of supplies, leaving Bella with some rare alone time. She lingered for a moment, listening closely. The familiar click of the car door, the engine revving to life, and the subtle hum of the vehicle faded as it rolled down the street, finally out of her range.
Finally alone.
Bella let out a quiet sigh of relief, a smile tugging at her lips as the silence of the townhouse settled around her. Jean Paul and Edward had left about thirty minutes earlier to pick up the passports and the various documents they had ordered from Jean Paul's forger. Now, for the first time since arriving in Paris, Bella found herself truly alone.
Not that she minded the company. She loved spending time with her mom, and then, of course, there was Edward—who had been occupying more and more space in her thoughts lately. The connection between them had grown undeniable, drawing them closer with each passing day. And there, in the midst of their fledgling romance, lay the problem.
The sexual tension between them had reached a fever pitch, crackling like an electric current beneath the surface. Last night at the Eiffel Tower, they had come so close—so close—to giving in to that pull. Their almost-kiss had left her breathless, her body tingling in anticipation, only to be interrupted at the last moment. It was enough to drive her mad. Now, standing alone in the quiet townhouse, the memory of that heated moment resurfaced, and Bella could feel the tension coiling inside her all over again.
She swallowed hard, her body humming with restless energy. If she didn't release some of this tension soon, she felt like she might just burst into flames.
Smiling to herself, Bella flashed up to the second floor where both she and Edward had separate bedrooms. Not that they really needed them—other than to store their clothes. The thought made her smirk as she closed her bedroom door, locking it just in case. Her gaze immediately fell on the bed, and she couldn't help but eye it longingly. One or two things certainly came to mind that she'd like to do on it… with Edward. Soon, she consoled herself.
Her mom had said she'd only be gone for about half an hour, so Bella knew she had to be quick. Without hesitation, she slipped her fingers to the button of her jeans, undoing them with a slow, deliberate motion. The denim slid down her legs, pooling at her feet as she shimmied out of them, the fabric caressing her skin. She quickly peeled off her shirt, leaving herself in nothing but her bra and panties.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Bella turned to the side, her gaze lingering on the soft curve of her hips and the way her panties clung to her body. The swell of her breasts, the gentle dip of her waist, and the curve of her ass filled her with a heady sense of sensuality. A slow heat curled in her belly as she imagined Edward's hands there, the feel of his palms tracing the lines of her body. She could almost feel him behind her, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her thighs with agonizing slowness. The thought of his touch sent a shiver through her, her breath hitching as her eyes lingered on the reflection, envisioning his hands exploring every inch of her, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
Warmth stirred within her as she glanced up at her reflection, locking eyes with herself in the mirror—her expression a mix of desire and anticipation. Better get moving, she reminded herself with a wry smile. There was no time for idle daydreaming, not now. She slipped off her panties, letting the cool air brush against her skin, and with a light hop, climbed onto the bed, sinking into the softness of the sheets beneath her.
10 minutes later…
Bella's scream filled the room, raw and unrestrained, as her climax tore through her like a tidal wave. Her body arched off the bed, her hips lifting, desperate to heighten the pressure right where she needed it most. Her hand worked herself over in a fast rhythm, fingers slick against her skin as each pulse of pleasure sent tremors rippling through her. The tension she had been holding onto for what felt like forever—the longing, the heat, the unfulfilled desire—finally unraveled, pouring out of her in a shuddering release.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she gasped for breath, her body trembling, legs quivering from the powerful waves of pleasure that coursed through her. The room seemed to spin around her, her heightened senses making everything feel more vivid, more alive. God, she had needed that. The tension of the past week—the unresolved heat simmering between her and Edward—had become nearly unbearable. But now, her entire body hummed with satisfying relief, the pressure that had been building for days finally easing, leaving her awash in waves of sweet, undeniable ecstasy. It left her feeling weightless, her muscles buzzing in the warm afterglow of the moment.
As Bella lay back against the pillows, her breathing slowly steadied, and a satisfied smile tugged at her lips. In every fantasy that had driven her over the edge, Edward had played the starring role... and God, his fantasy self had been so damn good at it. Her fingers moved languidly, still gently massaging the sensitive flesh between her thighs as she savored the lingering euphoria she was feeling.
She couldn't quite decide which fantasy had fueled her fun the most. Was it the one where Edward had her legs lifted high in the air, his strong body hovering over hers, every powerful thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through her? She had imagined the frantic intensity of his movements—the way his hard length slid into her, over and over, at a dizzying pace. The feel of his skin against hers, the way his muscles flexed with every deep thrust, his body taut with need. The heat between them, the desperate rhythm of their bodies moving in sync, filling her so completely. That fantasy had consumed her as she worked herself to the edge, every detail stoking the fire within her.
But is was another fantasy that had actually driven her over that edge. The thought of Edward in the shower, the hot water cascading over his flawless body. She had pictured the droplets gliding down the sculpted lines of his chest, gleaming as they traced the ridges of his muscles. She had imagined herself stepping in behind him, her hand slipping around his waist, fingers wrapping around his thick length. At first, she had stroked him slowly, savoring the heat of his skin under her palm. But as her desire grew, her pace quickened, becoming more insistent. She could almost feel the way his body would stiffen as she worked him over, her hand moving with purpose. Her mind had lingered on the image of him coming undone, her hand working him at a fevered pace until he just couldn't hold back any longer. His member erupted, shooting high into the air again and again, his body shuddering from the overwhelming intensity. His control completely slipping away, lost in the ecstasy she had taken him to.
Either way, every thought of him left her wanting more.
Bella's head fell back against the pillow, her body still humming. As much as she'd love to continue to lose herself in her fantasies, playing them over and over until Edward finally made that first move, she knew it wasn't an option right now. But god, when it did happen, she had no doubt it would be the best sex of either of their lives. For now, though… she needed to pull herself together. Her mom would be back soon, and the last thing she wanted was to be caught in this state.
Knowing her mom, she might let it slip to Edward… though, now that Bella thought about it, that might give him the incentive to… No, no, as tempting as it was, she wanted Edward to take the next step when he was ready, when the moment felt right.
With reluctance, Bella sat up, her body protesting as the warmth of her high still thrummed through her. A familiar scent lingered in the air—she smelled like sex. No denying that. She swung her legs off the bed and padded over to the dresser, her fingers brushing against the fabric of her clothes. It was definitely time for a shower.
She glanced toward the bathroom, biting her lip. She'd just have to be strong and only take a shower. There wasn't time to indulge in pleasuring herself again... even if the thought was oh-so-tempting.
The passport looked so real in Bella's hands. The outside cover felt just right against her sensitive fingers, adding to its sense of legitimacy. She flipped it open again, examining the inner pages closely. Even with her enhanced vision, there wasn't a single flaw she could detect—no inconsistencies in the holograms, the ink, or the fine details. The craftsmanship was impeccable. Her eyes lingered on the photo inside, her new identity staring back at her: Isadora Lefevre. She turned the name over in her mind, testing how it felt. If she ever needed to slip into a new role, she could now become this woman at a moment's notice.
Edward, on the other hand, had the luxury of keeping his real name for this go-around. There were no red flags associated with "Edward Mason" in the current records, no reasons that it would raise suspicion. Bella couldn't help but find it amusing—he could simply be himself as he navigated this new world he found himself in, while she wore another mask.
She closed the passport carefully, slipping it into her back pocket. Her gaze shifted to her mom, who sat comfortably on the sofa, a quiet smile on her lips, as if she shared in Bella's satisfaction.
"Jean Paul's man really does good work," Bella mused aloud, her voice laced with approval. "When Edward and I fly out tomorrow, there shouldn't be any issues."
A smile tugged at her lips, excitement bubbling up inside her at the thought of their next adventure. Alaska. It felt like something out of an old detective novel—with her and Edward piecing together clues, trying to track down the elusive Carlisle Cullen. Just the thought of it sent a surge of anticipation through her.
Renée sat watching Bella with a mix of sadness and contentment. It had been a good visit, a chance to reconnect with her daughter, and she knew there would be many more in the future—many, many more. Still, watching her leave again stirred the familiar ache of a mother letting go, even if only for a while.
Her thoughts shifted to Edward, the first man Bella had ever brought home. It was obvious to her that the two of them had something going on. The lingering glances, the quiet conversations—it was clear as day. But that was all it had been: longing looks and a palpable tension between them. Renée couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration. They'd been dancing around each other all week, and while she didn't exactly want to hear them going at it like bunnies, she would've preferred they break the logjam of sexual tension that had been building between them.
Bella had seemed a little on edge earlier, her frustration apparent, but thankfully, now she appeared more relaxed. Still, Renée wasn't one to stay silent, especially when it came to her daughter's happiness. She had to throw in her two cents.
"So," Renée began, her tone casual but with a mischievous glint in her eye. "When are you going to put the moves on Edward? A guy like that isn't going to stay unattached for long, you know. Every single woman around is going to be lining up to sink her hooks into him."
Bella's eyes widened as she quickly waved her hands, signaling for her mother to lower her voice. "Mom, keep it down," she hissed, glancing toward the ceiling, her senses tuned in to the sound of Edward and Jean Paul's voices drifting from the third floor. They were still deep in conversation, Jean Paul patiently showing Edward how to use a computer, and she didn't want Edward overhearing her mom's question.
Renée, unfazed by Bella's silent plea for discretion, smirked knowingly. "Oh please," she muttered, crossing her arms with a grin. "You think he doesn't feel the same way? I've seen the way he looks at you, Bella. You're both so wrapped up in each other, it's only a matter of time before something gives."
Bella shook her head, exasperated but unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I know, I know. I'm working on it, okay? Hopefully in Alaska."
Upstairs, the hum of the computer and Jean Paul's easy laughter, answering another one of Edward's questions, assured her that, thankfully, Edward hadn't heard a thing. She let out a breath, rolling her eyes at her mom. "Just… let me handle it, okay?"
Renée winked, clearly pleased that Bella had finally come around, but there was a mischievous glint in her eye as she added, "Oh, I'll let you handle it... but don't wait too long, darling. Time waits for no vampire."
She paused, then leaned in slightly, her voice dropping with playful intrigue. "Need any pointers?" she asked, holding up her gloved hand and wiggling her fingers with a cheeky grin.
Bella rolled her eyes, though a small laugh escaped her. "Mom!" she exclaimed, half in disbelief, half amused. "I think I'll be fine."
Renée chuckled, her laughter light and teasing. "Just saying, darling. We can't have you wasting any more time... I mean, that poor boy, a century all alone... Just think about it."
Bella closed her eyes, shaking her head. Her mom's ability still freaked her out, but she couldn't deny it had its perks—especially if you had someone to use it with. She had put off talking about it all week, knowing her mom always tended to overshare. But still...
"Hey, I was wondering," Bella asked, curiosity getting the better of her, "does your ability... work on you as well?"
Renée smiled, slowly nodding her head. Bella thought for a moment, her mind running through the possibilities. "Damn," she muttered, a grin tugging at her lips. "I kinda wish I had that one too. It sounds like fun."
Renée's grin widened. "Oh, it is," she said with a wink. "But trust me, you'll have a lot more fun with Edward. Go for it, honey."
Bella's smile turned mischievous, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, I will… Trust me, I plan on it—and soon." There was a teasing confidence in her voice, but her mind quickly shifted, contemplating the potential of her mom's ability.
"You know…" Bella continued, her tone turning more thoughtful, "your power might actually have some serious potential in combat... if you ever found yourself up against a hostile vampire." She raised an eyebrow, considering the idea more deeply. "When we're gone, you should really practice with Jean Paul. Push your limits. See if you can overload his system so completely that, with just a touch, he's so overwhelmed he can't attack or defend himself."
Her voice dropped, the seriousness of the suggestion settling in. "That split-second advantage could be the difference between life and death."
"We'll get right on that," Renée replied with a playful smile. Combat training had never been her favorite, but if they incorporated that into the mix, she could see herself warming up to the idea rather quickly. The thought of practicing with Jean Paul suddenly seemed... quite appealing. A glimmer of excitement flickered in her eyes as her gaze drifted toward the ceiling, where Jean Paul was on the third floor. She could almost picture it now—perhaps they should start practicing right away...
Before she could get too far in her thoughts, Bella's voice cut in. "No, wait until after we leave, Mom!" Bella said, shaking her head with an exasperated laugh. She didn't miss the flash of disappointment that crossed her mother's face, and for a second, it was hard not to smile.
"Please," Bella added, her tone lighter now, "I really don't want to hear... that."
I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Initially, I had only planned for the dance scene to be a part of Bella's memories of their week in Paris while she and Edward waited at the Eiffel Tower. But after seeing so many of your comments saying you couldn't wait to read about it, I decided to write it out.
Don't fret too much—Bella and Edward will get that kiss, the first of many before they reach Denali. I don't want to give anything away, but let's just say some real fireworks happen up there...
As always, comments are appreciated.