A French Affair (64 page)

After closing the door behind them he took her coat, and she walked forward into the wonderfully familiar kitchen with all its handmade pots and painted cupboards, the overhead beams and the long table down the middle where two glasses and an ice bucket containing a bottle of champagne were waiting. She
watched him walk over to it, then went to stand between the two large armchairs in front of the fire. All the time they kept looking at one another, and she could feel herself smiling, unable to stop. She wanted him to touch her, to kiss her and hold her, but she waited for him to pour the champagne, then watched him bring a glass to her.

As he handed it to her, he said, ‘I was trying to decide, before you came, whose words I would use to greet you, de Lamartine, Keats, Irène,
n'importe qui
, but now you're here I find they are all letting me down.'

Her head went to one side as her expression challenged him playfully.

‘The best way I can say it,' he whispered, ‘is that it's as though the light has come back into my life.'

Her smile faded as her heart expanded with the meaning of his words, then he touched his glass to hers and said, ‘To us.'

‘To us
,
' she echoed in a whisper.

His eyes stayed on hers as they sipped, then taking her glass he put it with his on the mantelpiece. When he turned back she felt her heartbeat starting to slow, for she knew he was going to kiss her now and she had never wanted anything more in her life. Her breath caught in a gentle gasp as he took her in his arms, and in the first moments that his mouth covered hers it was as though all the love she had ever felt began to gather in her heart, while all the desire she could know swelled quietly, potently into life.

His kiss was deep and tender and full of the words neither of them had yet spoken, and all the pleasure yet to come. She could feel it moving into her as though to bring her even closer to him, and as she gave herself completely, feeling the pressure of his lips and
strength of his arms, she wanted it never to end. Then his tongue entered her mouth and inflamed such need in her that it made her murmur for more and still more.

When he lifted his head to look at her she felt unsteadied and dazed, and so full of longing that her voice was barely a whisper as she said, ‘I know there's a lot we need to say, but please don't let's wait any longer.'

Though amusement glinted in his eyes, their darkness showed the force of his own desire, and taking her hand he led her out of the room. When they reached the first landing he stopped to pull her into his arms again, and as she clung to him she knew if he wanted to take her right there she would be happy to let him.

They continued up to the second floor and into his bedroom. It seemed more masculine than when she'd last seen it, but being warmly lit by a small log fire in the hearth, and the lamps either side of the bed, it couldn't be anything other than romantic and inviting.

As he closed the door she turned to look at him, and continued to look at him as he began slowly to undress her. His eyes were intense, while his fingers were steady, and the air around them seemed gently but powerfully charged with their need.

Then her clothes were gone, leaving her fully revealed to him, and she stood watching him as his gaze moved like a languorous caress over her firelit shoulders and arms, her breasts, her abdomen, and the slender length of her legs. ‘
Tu es plus belle que je me rappelais,
' he said softly. You're even more beautiful than I remember.

‘I want to see you,' she said, and taking his hand she pulled him to her.

As she unfastened his shirt he unbelted his jeans,
and when finally he was naked too she stepped back to take in the hard masculinity of his chest, the firmness of his thighs, but most of all the uncompromising might of his desire.

She gave a gasp of longing and as her eyes went back to his he pulled her quickly to him, and the sensation of his skin on hers was like nothing she'd ever known before. She could feel him all over her, the strength of his arms, the pressure of his mouth, the power of his legs and the hardness of his cock. Her hands moved over his back and his buttocks, pulling him even closer, and as her tongue sought his she felt as though she was struggling to stay afloat in a sea of irresistible need.

With his mouth still on hers he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. Then he was lying over her, covering her body with his – and her legs were circling his waist, bringing him to her. She needed him inside her, he had to come to her now, but he only touched the tip of himself to her, pushing and probing, until the brutally teasing contact sent her to the very brink of a climax.

‘Oh Luc,' she gasped, clutching him hard.

‘It's all right. I can feel it,' he told her.

‘Please,' she begged. Then she cried out as he suddenly pushed all the way in and joined them completely. ‘Oh my God,' she choked.

‘Let it go,' he urged. ‘Just let it go.'

There was nothing she could do to stop it, and as the exquisite release began to pound and clench around him he rode her and held her and she clung to him sobbing and gasping, and never knowing if she could take any more.

‘It's all right, I've got you,' he murmured, and putting his mouth to hers he drew her orgasm on and
on, taking her to realms of such impossible sensation that in the end she could only turn weak in the thrall of its power.

It was a while before she opened her eyes, and looking dazedly up into his she ran her fingers over his mouth as she said, ‘I've tried to imagine what it would be like to feel you inside me, but I could never have imagined anything like this.'

He smiled, and as his lips came to hers it was as though she could feel his love moving right into her heart.

Soon after he was taking her gently again, easing her back from the stupor, bringing her to him until he was making love to her in ways no-one ever had before. She hadn't known it was possible to feel so much pleasure in her entire body, or that she could move from one orgasm into another and then another. He seemed to know every part of her even better than she knew herself, how to touch and kiss her, when to be gentle and when not, and even the very moment to compel her over the edge into oblivion.

Then finally, when she really could take no more, he allowed himself to let go, and the force of his release was so intense that they both cried out. And as he pounded her harshly, then gently, then harshly again, she could feel the sheer power of him as though it was becoming a part of her.

It was a long time later that they lay gazing into one another's eyes and feeling the bruising tenderness of their bodies. The remains of the fire sighed and shifted in the hearth, while the rain pattered rhythmically over the eaves. Her heart was so full that tears were wet on her cheeks, and when she tried to speak the words couldn't make it past the tightness in her throat.

‘
Ai-je pensé te dire que je t'aime?'
he murmured softly. Did I remember to tell you I love you?

Her mouth trembled as she laughed, then moving even closer to him she kissed him with all the love she felt was consuming them both.

Late the following day they were in the kitchen listening to a recording of Claude conducting the Orchestre de Paris in Mendelssohn's
Symphonies for Strings
, when Daniella rang to invite them over for dinner.

‘Dinner?' Luc repeated, as though it were a forgotten concept. He was sitting at the table reading a printout of Jessica's book, and wearing only a thick navy robe which he'd changed into after they'd walked over to the lake in the rain. ‘Yes, I think we'll come for dinner,' he said, ‘but maybe on Tuesday.'

Jessica smiled as she heard Daniella laugh.

She was standing at the window staring out at the drab, motionless day now that the rain had stopped, her hands buried deeply in the pockets of another of his robes, her senses responding gently to the smell of him each time she inhaled. Though nothing could make her want to be anywhere other than where she was now, it still felt bewildering to be this new woman, as though she were fulfilling a dream that she'd almost lost the courage to have. And yet it was all real, because he was right there behind her, and she knew if she went to him now he would make her believe it all over again.

Her eyes moved across the dankly misted vines to the cottage, and as she thought of Natalie an all-too familiar ache cleaved through her heart. She knew nothing would ever replace her precious girl in her life,
she wasn't even expecting it to, any more than she was expecting to make sense of why she'd had to die. Maybe one day she would start to come to terms with the loss, even though it was hard to imagine now, but the future was impossible to predict, as she'd come to learn very well. Whether Charlie could ever truly live with himself again, she guessed only time would tell. There was no more she could do to help him. She'd tried to forgive him, and to an extent she had, but the way he had left Natalie that day would always be there between them, as it had since the moment it had happened, which was why they'd started to come apart even before she'd known the truth.

She could only wonder now why fate had used such a senseless tragedy to pull a family – and friendship – apart and send them all in new directions. Since they were still on the threshold of this unplanned future she knew she couldn't possibly know the answer, and accepted that very probably she never would. She wouldn't even ask herself if the price was worth paying, because nothing would ever be worth Natalie's life, and she knew Luc would understand that too. Anyway, she'd been made to understand in the most brutal of ways that life didn't bargain, or discuss, or even hesitate with its plans, it only delivered. So all she could do now was try to let go of the bitterness and pain, and embrace the love she was still lucky enough to have.

Feeling him coming to stand behind her, she sank back into his arms as he wrapped them around her.

‘What are you thinking?' he asked, resting his cheek against hers.

Smiling, she said, ‘Lots of things, but most of all about Natalie and how lovely it would be to put a little
dovecote down at the cottage for her. Do you think your father would mind?'

With a wry tone he said, ‘I'm sure he'll love the idea, but the cottage is mine and Daniella's so I can tell you we wouldn't mind at all.' Then after a moment, ‘Do you think Harry would like to help build it?'

Hearing that, her heart contracted, and as she turned around to look up into his eyes, she whispered, ‘He would love to. Knowing it was for Natalie . . . It would make him feel so important.'

He kissed her softly on the mouth as she linked her arms around his neck.

‘Can it work?' she asked, wondering why she was suddenly doubtful again. ‘Can we really be together?'

As his eyes swept her face, he said, ‘You're looking for answers that aren't yet there to be found. All we know for certain is how we feel about one another now, which means we'll do everything we can to make it work – and over the next few months we will find out how possible it is.'

Though it wasn't exactly what she'd hoped to hear, she knew he was right. She was under no illusion, making the break from Charlie and Nikki, and London too, was going to be far from easy. Just thank God she wasn't having to let go of Harry, because she knew in her heart she'd be unable to. Instead she was going to start bringing him here as often as she could, first of all to get him used to seeing her and Luc together, and then to thinking of Valennes as home. Luc had even suggested letting him have the puppy he wanted, and allowing it to sleep in the room that would become Harry's – so they were planning to do everything they could to make the break from his father as painless as possible. However, it was still going to be traumatic,
on both sides, Jessica was in no doubt about that, but since it wouldn't happen until summer, when Harry had finished this school year, she wasn't going to make an issue of it now. After all, anything could have happened by then – she might even be pregnant, which was something else they'd discussed when they'd walked over to the lake, and weren't going to do anything to prevent.

Turning in his arms to gaze out at the vineyard again, she gave a sigh that was part contentment and part frustration. ‘I feel such a sense of freedom and happiness when I'm here,' she told him, wishing the next few months were already over and she didn't have to leave at all. ‘It's as though I'm really being myself in a way that I almost seem to have lost a sense of.' Then, leaning her head back on his shoulder, ‘But it's not the place that makes me feel like that,' she whispered. ‘It's you, because life isn't about places, is it, it's about people, especially those we love.'

Tightening his embrace, he kissed her neck, then taking her hand he led her back to the table. ‘We haven't talked about my father at all,' he said, as they sat down. ‘You know that this is his house, and he is very happy for you and Harry to be here, but maybe you would prefer me to find somewhere close by for us.'

She shook her head. ‘You know I adore your father,' she said, ‘so if he's prepared to give it a try with us all being under the same roof, so am I.' She smiled as she saw the relief in his eyes, and sat forward to kiss him. ‘You're right to be happy with that decision,' she told him, ‘because your father is a far better cook than I will ever be. My talents, I hope, lie elsewhere.'

His eyebrows rose, and she laughed as she realised what he was thinking.

‘I was meaning my book,' she said.

‘Ah. Then let me tell you that you have two exceptional talents, and the other one is writing. Of course you may have even more that I am not yet aware of, but the work you have done here is
exceptionel
. Your style is so fluid it is almost melodic, but very suddenly it becomes arresting or impetuous, like an arabesque or capriccio. And you have evoked a very seductive and real sense of the period, as well as the passions of the characters. I warm to them all in different ways, and find myself already feeling sad to lose them. You have only now to write the final chapter?'