By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс
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chin could be quite determined. But he had to accept the justice of her words, bien sûr. In this context the Ritz suggestion sounded ludicrous. But the prospect of her leaving immediately with everything unresolved was—wrong.
The screen caught his eye again and he saw it wasn’t a ball, not really. It was a woman’s anatomy. Or one part of it, greatly enlarged.
He summoned the most persuasive smile he was capable of at that moment. ‘Nom de Dieu, Shari, I’m not implying that we should just—carry on regardless. But you must agree, something like this requires careful—reflection. And time. Time to make a reasoned decision.’
‘Oh?’ She glanced up. ‘I thought you’d already decided.’
He spread his hands. ‘Zut alors, we’ve both decided, n’est-ce pas? Remember what we said in the gardens? We agreed, yes? And we are—aren’t we?—on the same page with this?’
There was something in her eyes then that made his heart lose the beat, then speed up like a fury.
He hastened to add, ‘W-well, as far as one can decide at first instinct. We need first to examine all the medical issues. I’m thinking here of your health.’
She lifted her shoulders. ‘My health’s fine. Anyway, they have the best possible health care in Australia. There’s nothing here that I can’t have there.’
He said sharply, ‘You won’t have me there.’
His change of tone made her blink. He noticed her stiffen and hold herself so rigidly, anyone would have thought she’d been expecting a blow.
His heart thudded. What did she think? He was like Rémy? After last night? Breathing harshly, he swung away from her towards the door. ‘D’accord, you want to leave. Très bon. You must do as you wish. What time is your flight?’
‘Noon. I need to be there by ten-thirty.’
‘I’ll pick you up an hour before.’
‘Oh, look. No need to put yourself out. I can take a taxi.’
‘Shari. Of course I will drive you there.’ Shocked, wounded, he stared at her, struggling to interpret the meaning of all this—rejection. Didn’t women say they wanted guys to support them in this sort of emergency?
She looked so fragile. One of those small, blonde, fragile women one saw at every market. No, he thought at once. Correction. One of those small, blonde, fragile pregnant women.
He hesitated for fear of scaring her again. But he couldn’t just accept this—dismissal. He needed to remind her of who he was. How they’d been.
He strode back and pulled her up out of the chair, crushed her to him and kissed her. Not a mere milk-and-water kiss like the earlier one in the downstairs lobby, either. This was one of the true ones. Fierce, like his inexpressible heart, and passionate, his hands on her breasts, her gorgeous bottom, the curves that had given him such exquisite pleasure and even now were making him so hard he could have her here and now on this desk.
And he was vindicated. After a stunned second she melted against him and joined him in the torrent of fire, clinging to him with all the fervour and passion he felt himself.
Blessed victory in his hands at last, he broke the kiss. ‘Let’s go to your room,’ he said thickly. ‘You don’t want to be alone tonight.’
He could see his desire reflected in her eyes, but she dropped her lashes and turned her face away. ‘No, look. It’s probably best if I am alone.’
‘Chérie.’ Dieu, his voice was a groan. What was she doing to him? ‘I can’t—I can’t imagine how you will sleep thinking of all these things. You need me to hold you. How else am I to persuade you not to fly away tomorrow?’
She made a grimace. ‘That’s just the trouble. No. No, honestly.’ Evading his hands she backed away, opening a good two metre distance between them. ‘I won’t be able to think straight if you’re here. I owe it to—to myself, to have this night alone. Please, Luc. You have to understand. I know Australia. I’ll feel more comfortable there, whatever I have to go through. So please … for my sake and for— Well, for my sake.’
She virtually shoved him through the door. The failed guy, eliminated. The partner in crime, repudiated. The unwanted mate, condemned to a night of sheer and utter hell.
She smiled ruefully, but he saw that in fact she was as inflexible as steel. ‘Goodnight.’
Something—everything about her seemed different, although maybe it was himself, seeing her through different eyes.
SHARI had ordered tea and toast to wake up with, and was relieved the early bite made some difference to how she felt. It couldn’t have been very beneficial to have been operating on near empty for so much of yesterday. No wonder she’d collapsed at chez Laraine and created all that drama.
When she was packed and organised, she rang for her suitcase to be taken down, then waited in the breakfast room where she could watch the street, her trench folded on the banquette beside her. It was still far too early to expect Luc.
From where she sat she could see the waiter across at the Café Palais Royale arranging chairs under his red awning, while next door the patron was sweeping his section of pavement.
Even with her nerves stretched taut as bowstrings she could enjoy the scene, though it was a pleasure tinged with regret. If only she’d had more time to soak up the beauty.
Half her mind was already set on home. Neil had emailed her through the night to announce the safe arrival of the twins. In her rocky state those first photos had been almost too confronting. She supposed drearily if she didn’t miscarry it would be comforting to have him and Emilie close at hand to advise her. It wasn’t as if she’d be completely alone.
There was a constant ebb and flow of taxis in the square outside, and she had a cowardly impulse to run out and hail one. It wouldn’t be fair, but it might spare her some grief. After last night she suspected Luc wasn’t altogether satisfied with the prospect of her slipping from his grasp.
Although, maybe now he’d had time to think, he would accept her escape as an easy solution for himself as well. Whatever choice she made, he could go on with his life undisturbed.
She was just considering a tactful way to point this out to him when he walked in, ninety minutes ahead of the appointed time. Her heart lurched. The instant she saw his face she knew this would be no easy departure. It flashed through her mind he must have had an inkling he needed to be quick.
He stood gazing silently down at her, then bent to brush her cheeks with his lips.
He was unshaven, deep lines around his mouth and eyes suggesting he’d experienced a rugged night.
‘May I?’
‘Of course.’ She flushed, ashamed he’d felt he had to ask.
He swung around to signal the waiter. ‘Café, s’il vous plaît.’ Then he turned back to her. Scanned her face. She could sense him assessing her mood. ‘Shari …’
She braced herself, her heart knocking in her chest.
His dark eyes were arresting in their gravity. ‘I can’t let you go like this.’
Her nerve plunged. ‘But—’
He took her hands and it was as if an electric charge pulsated through her. ‘Now I’ve had time to think, I can guess why you want to run away. I believe I didn’t listen to you well enough. Somehow I—didn’t hear what you were wanting. C’est vrai?’
She