#CashmereCanBeItchy, #PostCrisis
Arm in arm we strolled down the Champs – a cliché for sure, but a fabulous one. The temperature had dropped and I was torn between my love for the divine coat cocooning me and the guilt and frustration that came from Nikolai’s dominance.
Soon we were beyond the shops and into the Jardin des Champs-Élysées. Despite the cold, many couples and tourists were also strolling the pathways. For a while we didn’t speak. I wasn’t cold; however, I couldn’t help from snuggling into him a little. He wrapped a huge arm around me. Despite the crowded streets, I felt we were alone. No bodyguards jumping out from behind trees like a bad detective movie.
It became apparent that Nikolai was directing our walk. We appeared to be moving in the direction of my hotel. I asked
