French Escape. Barbara McMahon

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French Escape - Barbara McMahon


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think I’m up for celebrating.” He put the empty glass on the table and rose. “I’ll take off for my room now and let you get some sleep.”

      She stood next to him, realizing too late how close she stood. Before she could take a step back, however, he reached out and traced his finger down her cheek. “I enjoyed talking about my son. I’ll always miss him. He was a part of me that I will never completely get over losing.”

      “I enjoyed hearing about him. I’m so sorry for your loss. I can’t even imagine.”

      “Most people can’t, I guess.”

      He leaned over and kissed her. For a moment it was the mere brush of lips against lips, but then he moved his hand to the back of her head and held her while his other arm reached around to draw her closer. The kiss deepened.

      Jeanne-Marie was caught off guard and before she could protest or push away, he’d released her. She stared up into his eyes, afraid of the tumultuous feelings that exploded.

      “Thank you,” he said, and after releasing her he swiftly crossed to the stairs and took them two at a time.

      She stood still, bemused, confused. “Good night,” she said a moment later, feeling stunned with that kiss. She wasn’t sure what to think. Had he picked up on her reaction to being around him? He had not shown any particular interest. Why a kiss?

      And what a kiss. Did he do that all the time? Slowly she sat back down on the sofa still staring off toward the stairs. Her heart pounded. Licking her lips, she was still shocked. She had not seen it coming.

      It had merely been a thank-you for listening. He hadn’t meant anything else by it.

      Matt went to the window and stared out at the night. He could still feel the imprint of Jeanne-Marie’s body against his. She was not as tall as Marabelle had been. But sweet, soft, enticing. How could he have kissed her? There was nothing between them. She’d kindly listened to him talk tonight, that was all. He was lucky she hadn’t slapped him silly.

      He’d felt a release sharing his son, remembering their normal routines, taken for granted at the time, so precious in memories now. She understood because of her own loss and her own son. She’d shared a few funny incidents involving Alexandre, and he’d been able to counter. The time had flown by.

      The room was dark, the night was dark, his thoughts were dark. How could he kiss another woman?

      Yet Marabelle was gone.

      She wouldn’t hold it against him.

      He turned and began to strip his clothes in preparation for bed. He’d never thought to kiss another woman, but there was something about Jeanne-Marie that had him momentarily forgetting who and where he was. He’d have to apologize. If she didn’t kick him out of the inn first.

      Lying in bed a short time later, he threw an arm over his head and clenched his fist. Instead of giving an apology, he wanted another kiss. One in which she kissed him back. How dumb could one man be?

      Matt came down for breakfast later than the previous days. He was going to do some exploring around the easy marked trails and then come back for Alexandre’s ramble. That is, if Jeanne-Marie would let him. There were some places where the incline was almost gentle enough to walk up. Those would be perfect for a small boy.

      He came down the stairs and went to the dining room. Two tables had guests eating. One was still cluttered with dirty dishes and two others were set. He took one to the side and sat down. No sooner had he pulled out his chair than Jeanne-Marie came from the kitchen. Did she have magical powers?

      “Chocolate or coffee?” she asked, coming to his table. She balanced a plastic bin on one hip.

      “Coffee today.” She nodded to the stack of newspapers on the buffet. “Today’s papers if you care to read. I’ll be right back.” Swiftly she stacked the dirty dishes in the bin and carried them out of the dining room. The conversations at the other tables were quiet. He rose and took one of the daily papers from the small stack and resumed his seat.

      But he wasn’t really interested in the news. He leaned back in his chair and waited for Jeanne-Marie to return.

      She did, with a bright smile and a carafe of hot coffee. Also on the platter was a frittata, fresh bread, orange juice and a petite cinnamon roll. She served him, then met his eyes. “Anything else?”

      He could hardly ask for her to sit with him. But he missed the companionship he’d had the last couple of mornings. At least she hadn’t asked him to leave. She hadn’t said anything about the kiss. Were they going to ignore it?

      Feeling like he’d won a reprieve, he looked at the meal. “This looks fine,” he said.

      “Enjoy.” She checked on the other guests, then went back to the kitchen.

      Alexandre came through a moment later and made a beeline for Matt.

      “Hi. We’re going climbing today,” he said, clambering onto the chair opposite Matt. “My mama said. Are we going now?”

      “This afternoon,” Matt concurred gravely. “If it’s still okay with your mother.”

      “Will we climb to the top of a mountain?”

      “No, we’ll start out on a small hill.”

      “I want to climb a mountain!”

      “Climbing is a skill that has to be learned. Everyone starts out on smaller cliffs, then goes on to bigger and bigger challenges. You cannot climb a mountain at five.”

      Alexandre pouted for a moment. Matt hid a smile behind his coffee cup, taking a drink while the child assimilated what he’d been told. Children wanted everything immediately.

      “Can I climb a mountain tomorrow?” Alexandre asked hopefully.

      “You can’t climb a mountain until you are as tall as I am.”

      The boy’s eyes got big. “I’ll never be that tall.”

      “When you grow up you will.” For a moment Matt wondered how tall Alexandre would be. He felt a pang of disappointment that he would likely never know.

      Alexandre kicked his foot against the chair. “Are we going soon? “

      “After lunch. I have things to do this morning,” Matt told him.

      “Can I come?”

      Matt heard the echo of Etienne’s voice. He’d ask just like that. How many times had Matt said not today, when, had he known the future, he’d have taken him every single time?

      “I’ll be on the phone with work. Then I need to scout out our route for this afternoon. But I tell you what, if your mother approves, once I’m back, we’ll start learning about climbing.”

      “I’ll go ask her,” Alexandre said, slipping off the chair and running for the kitchen.

      Jeanne-Marie came out an instant later and walked right to his table.

      “Is Alexandre bothering you?” she asked.

      “No. I told him when I finish checking in with work and scouting the climb for later, I’d go over basics with him. He needs to learn a lot to be safe on a cliff. He’s still going for a climb today, right?”

      Jeanne-Marie nodded her head slowly. “As long as I can go, too.”

      Matt gave a curt nod. He wasn’t sure he wanted two pupils, especially when he had trouble keeping his mind focused when around the pretty innkeeper. Climbing demanded a lot of concentration; he hoped he could remember that.

      He met her eyes, seeing the confusion there. But she merely said, “We’ll be ready after lunch.”

      Jeanne-Marie felt almost as excited as Alexandre when she got ready to meet Matt that afternoon. She wore long pants, the cross trainers that offered good soles and a red T-shirt—hoping it would give her courage. Butterflies danced


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