"Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us

I can live only wholly with you or not at all

Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits

Yes, unhappily it must be so

You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart

never

never

Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves."

- Ludwig van Beethoven, 1812 (Excerpt from the Immortal Beloved Letters)

Reine clutched her broken hand to her chest and repeatedly tapped the 'Door Close' button with the other. Her fingers throbbed, but the pain would be gone soon.

Hopefully it would be soon enough.

As the shiny elevator door slid into place, she looked back out into the hotel's sleek, modern lobby. Thankfully, it was still deserted. This wasn't unusual given the wintry weather and the late hour, but it wouldn't last for long.

He was there, not too far behind.

She couldn't let him catch up. He couldn't see her. Not just yet.

With a small jolt, the elevator moved upward. She looked at her hand again. It was shaking, but as she flexed her fingers, the last signs of bruising – and of the pain – disappeared.

That still didn't make her happy.

For the second time in two weeks, she had almost inadvertently revealed her secret. A secret her life depended on.

She should have just ended the conversation when she fumbled to answer a simple question: "Are you married?" She didn't, and that was mistake number one. The blunder was a warning sign, and she ignored it. She had uncharacteristically let her guard down.

Who wouldn't have, if they had looked into those eyes or had seen that smile? Her heart would be her downfall, and that's why she had avoided listening to it for so long. Until tonight.

And that's when she made the second mistake: getting injured.

It was all because of that darned blackout. She'd left her room, carefully navigating down five flights of pitch, black stairs to ask the night manager about the situation. After hearing the electrical crews were "working on it," she was about to head back upstairs when laughter from an odd trio drew her attention.

She recognized the two women in the group. Just like her, they were there for the Northeastern Society of Art History's conference the next day. Totally captivated by a man young enough to be their son, they hung on his every word and giggled like schoolgirls at the story he was telling.

Even in the faint candlelight, Reine could see why.

While not perfectly chiseled in the classical sense, his disheveled blonde hair, tanned skin, and enormous smile accentuated his boyish features. Ignoring his thick, fleece sweatshirt, he looked as if he belonged on a California beach.

He was certainly attractive, but it was his eyes that captivated her. Even from a distance, they lit up every time he smiled. Radiating self-confidence, they immediately drew Reine in.

The young man turned his head and smiled directly at her. With a gasp, she quickly sat on a nearby sofa, picked up a magazine, and began to flip through it. She scrunched her nose when he got up and walked directly to her.

"Good evening. May I?" He casually slid into the adjacent armchair.

Because he'd already assumed her acquiescence, there was no need for her to argue, so Reine cleared her throat. "Okay."

"I'm Gabe Moran, and I've been keeping those nice ladies over there occupied for the last hour." He nodded toward his companions. "But honestly I don't think I can take another minute alone with just the two of them."

He laughed heartily, and in spite of his choice of words, his intentions didn't appear malicious. So why was he telling her this or where it was leading? Sitting silently, she waited for him to say more.

The confusion must have shown on her face because he continued. "They're lovely, don't get me wrong. But if I have to hear another argument as to whether the Flemish or the Italians were better at portraying chiaroscuro, then my head will literally explode."

"You seemed to be doing all right." She bit her lip. Maybe he wouldn't notice her comment meant she'd been watching them.

He puckered his lips. "Almost too well, actually. They don't seem to get the hint. Anyway, we heard there may be a coffeehouse across the street that still has power. Would you do me the huge favor of joining us so I'm not left alone with them for any longer?"

"That was a really nice build-up. Very well crafted for the circumstances in fact, but no thank you." She threw the magazine on a side table. "You look like you can handle yourself. Just tell them you're tired."

She wasn't necessarily above accepting such an invitation. Heck, she may have even considered it if the request wasn't just so this guy could get unwanted admirers off his back.

He checked his watch for the current time. "I could do that, but they would probably see through me wanting to go to bed at 9:00 pm. And if I go back alone now and say that, then I'm not only going to seem like an insensitive jerk for the lie, but also as one who struck out with a beautiful woman."

She smiled. Although his words were cliché, his delivery was definitely smooth. She was already charmed, but teasing him for a bit longer was too much fun to pass up. "Well, I can't argue with that logic. But because you obviously don't care that the Italians were the true masters of contrasting light and dark, my answer's still no."

His eyes widened. "Don't tell me you're one of them. Well, I guess I could just say you invited me up to your room."

"You wouldn't!" She gasped theatrically.

"I don't know. If it's between that or having my ego bruised with a rejection . . ."

Reine shook her head. "They wouldn't believe you."

"Oh, I really doubt that." He smiled, looking over his shoulder at the women who were now watching them. Giving them a quick wave, he turned back to Reine. "Seriously, please help me out. Just one hour."

He was certainly charismatic. She'd felt an unusual, immediate attraction toward this man from the moment she first saw him. Reine was curious to find out if her instincts were right.

Worst case scenario? He was just another pretty face with no substance. Even then, it would just mean wasting an otherwise idle hour by looking into his beautiful, baby blue eyes.

She got to her feet and adjusted her sweater. "I could use a hot drink. All right. Let's go."

The two historians were feigning a deep discussion, but just as they joined them, the room filled with light. The power to the building's electrical systems was working again.

"Oh my goodness! What a relief." The woman with flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes clapped her hands together.

Her friend wobbled slightly as she stood. "Gabriel, dear, you've been much too kind, but it seems like the fates are against us." She pointed at the lights. "And we should really continue preparing for tomorrow's session. In any case, I'm sure this young lady will be a lot better company than we would have been."

She winked, and Reine bit her lip to hold back a smile at the ladies' sudden departure due to a need to polish their PowerPoint presentations. The thought of competing with her for Gabe's attention was more likely driving them to their favorite glasses of local chardonnay.

Although her reason for joining him was now moot, Reine didn't attempt to back out of her decision. Gabe was still also game. After bidding goodnight to their new acquaintances, he addressed her without a hint of disappointment. "I guess it's just you and me, then."