A French Kiss in London

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A French Kiss in London Page 15

by De Ross, Melinda


  They made love quietly, like two teenagers sneaking in an isolated corner to relieve the smoldering passion, which threatened to consume them.

  He shook uncontrollably in her arms. Spent, he lowered his head on her chest, his heart drumming in a rhythm that seemed to convey something special only to her.

  “I love you,” she whispered, stroking his hair, then his slightly abrasive cheek, covered by stubble.

  “I love you too, Linda. More than you could ever imagine. Trust me, if you would know the intensity of what I feel for you, it would scare you more than our surreal experience in the woods.”

  Her heart fluttered, jolted by a strange emotion. She smiled serenely, drawing him even closer against her breast.

  “How can you think that?” she asked softly. “Your love is what makes me wake up every day with a smile on my lips and in my heart. On the other hand, what happened in that forest…I wish it had never happened. Or, at least, I wish we wouldn’t remember it.”

  “Not a chance, baby. Even if it would be best not to think about it and not to torment ourselves with questions that will forever remain unanswered, we’ll never forget that night.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  On the day of their departure, the neighbors’ infamous rooster woke them up again. While they dressed and packed, Linda kept muttering in Italian all kinds of culinary recipes, whose main ingredient was the feathered enemy. Suddenly she turned to Gerard, smiling diabolically.

  “Do you think we could buy that cock for Pirata? He would have so much fun with it!”

  He burst into laughter. Glancing out the window, he said, “Judging by the size of that beast, I think Pirata would be its appetizer.”

  Mariana served breakfast, insisting that Linda and Gerard must eat well before getting on the road. The table atmosphere was cheerful, but they all had their hearts heavy with sorrow. They had gotten attached with each other, these couples, so different in age, nationality and life style, but still having so many things in common.

  The two women were teary-eyed when they said goodbye, as the men loaded the bags in the back of the Jeep. Mariana had given them some of the knick-knacks she’d created. She said they were small parts of her soul.

  Even in Jean-Paul’s eyes there was a trace of sad nostalgia. That morning he seemed older, and not as tall as before.

  Although the Battistes had promised to come visit London when time and money would allow it, none of them truly believed they’d see each other again.

  Every hug carried an ambiguous finality. Linda imagined that responsible for the somewhat somber atmosphere were also the odd events they’d shared, the four of them, during those three days.

  Gerard squeezed his friend’s hand and Jean-Paul spoke to him, emotion vibrating in his scratchy voice.

  “Remember what I told you, my son. You are strong, noble. Michèl would be proud of you,” he went on, referring to Gerard’s father. “I, for one, am damned proud. If Mariana and I would have had children, I wish they would have been as good as you.”

  Impressed and touched, Gerard looked down at the tips of his shoes for a moment, before lifting his gaze to his old friend.

  “Thank you, Jean, for everything. Take care of yourselves.”

  He hugged him hard, then he embraced Mariana and kissed her hand. He opened the car door for Linda and, with a last regretful glance at his closest friends, climbed into the car.

  The return trip was very different from the initial one. Their mindset was different. When coming to Romania, they were heading toward adventure, toward a welcoming and fascinating unknown. Now, they were leaving behind the same unknown, fascinating in a bizarre way, but far from welcoming. Their spirit of adventure had evaporated. They had gotten a lot more than they’d bargained for.

  The only thing uplifting their spirits was the fact that, in an old briefcase camouflaged in Gerard’s dusty backpack, they were bringing home a priceless treasure.

  “What do you plan to do with the file Jean gave you?” Linda asked him, gazing through the windshield at the kilometers of road they rapidly left behind.

  His vague answer came out on a long exhale of breath.

  “To be honest, I don’t even know where to start. I have a couple of trustworthy workmates. I think I could count on them. I have to share this with someone, I can’t work by myself. I have to account higher and we need to make tests. It’s an extremely long way until we’ll manage to patent a treatment. But we have hope, and that’s the most important thing.”

  She squeezed his hand gently, then turned on the radio to brighten the mood.

  The road was clear, so the trip didn’t take as long as the first one. Thanks to the copious breakfast cooked by Mariana, neither of them wanted to stop and eat. They reached Bucharest and drove straight to the agency, to return the rented Jeep. After all formalities were concluded and all fees paid, the couple took their luggage and got into the first available cab, asking the driver to take them at the airport.

  When the boarding process was finalized, they settled into their destined seats and the plane took off. Not taking any notice of the distance between their chairs, or the uncomfortable position, Linda rested her head on her lover’s shoulder.

  “I can’t wait to get home,” she whispered. “To forget everything that happened, to resume our lives, our daily routine.”

  He stroked her cheek, thoughtfully.

  “So do I, my love. So do I.”

  Tired, they slept most of the way. It seemed like only an hour or so had passed, when their arrival was announced.

  As they stepped again onto the dusty London streets, they felt revived. The dry and stuffy air, the infernal traffic, all seemed like corners of heaven now.

  After a short debate, they decided for each to go to their respective residences to deal with their business, so each took a separate cab.

  Linda had called Mrs. Adams as soon as they’d gotten out of the airport, so the woman was waiting for her at home with Pirata. When he spotted her, the cat began meowing desperately. If it was a sign of joy or reproach, she didn’t know, nor did she care. She took him in her arms and sank her cheek in his clean fur. She murmured endearments against his furry ears, caressing him with all the love a mother can feel for her child.

  Assuring her that the house was clean, the pool water had been changed, the fridge was full and everything was fine, Mrs. Adams left Linda to enjoy the reunion with her adored cat, in the cozy comfort of her home.

  She unpacked, assisted by Pirata, then spent some time arranging onto shelves the souvenirs from Mariana and those she’d bought herself. Others she put aside, intending to send them as gifts to her family, as well as to a dear childhood friend from her beloved Italy.

  After finishing this chore, she took some ice cream from the fridge and snuggled on the couch with Pirata, turning on the TV set. Darkness had fallen by now. Outside, her elves and dwarfs spread multi-colored lights from their torches.

  “There’s no place like home, honey,” she told the cat, offering him a finger covered in ice cream, which he promptly licked, using his pink, sandpaper-like tongue. “I wonder what my sexy lover is doing now.”

  * * * *

  Back to his flat, Gerard unpacked quickly, then headed to the shower. He sat for a long time under the purifying spray of scalding water, trying to relax. He felt unjustifiably tired, not only physically, but first of all, mentally. Wearing only a towel wrapped around his hips, he sat on the sofa, watching absently the fish undulating carelessly into the aquarium. On the coffee table in front of him was Jean-Paul’s file. He studied it reflectively, thinking of everything that lay there, enciphered in ink on paper. The potential of saving hundreds, thousands of lives. A vicious fight awaiting for him, against all those who would set traps and obstacles from the shadows. A huge responsibility weighing on his shoulders. He wondered for a moment if Jean wasn’t putting too much hope in his abilities, if he was capable to take this fight to the end.

  Then he
thought of Linda, of the way she looked at him, as if he were a god. Apollo, he thought, smiling to himself and remembering her sculpture. If he had her love and her support, he could do anything.

  “Anything! If I have you beside me, I can do anything, Linda,” he said aloud, suddenly feeling invincible. He’d taken the decision he was contemplating for a few days and stood abruptly, heading toward the bedroom.

  Right at that moment, the doorbell rang. He walked down the hall, wondering who his visitor was. He looked through the peephole before opening the door.

  “Hi, Danielle,” he greeted the blonde woman dressed in a minuscule red outfit, which outlined her voluptuous curves.

  Danielle analyzed him from head to toe, feeling an acute desire to snatch away his towel, which was the only garment he wore. She called herself an exotic dancer, but she’d offered so many private lap-dances that she could have easily competed with a first class whore. The first time she had seen Gerard her heart had jolted in an unfamiliar way. Since then, she often had steamy fantasies whose protagonist was her sexy neighbor. However, he gallantly ignored her advances, making it clear he wasn’t interested in anything more than a cordial friendship. To her regret, Danielle considered Gerard much too good for her. Especially since he had a woman. Danielle didn’t know her, but it was much too obvious. Where else could a man spend his nights? And how could he refuse a woman like her, if he weren’t in love with another? She even suspected who his lover was. The woman from the paper he always kept in sight, an artist or something like that.

  “I saw your windows open, handsome,” she said, brushing past him and entering without an invitation. “I just returned from shopping, went upstairs to leave my bags and came down to bring you the keys. And to collect my present,” she added slyly, walking into his living room.

  He followed her, smiling indulgently.

  “My fish look kind of fat. How much did you feed them?”

  “About twice as much as it says on the box,” she replied nonchalantly and sat on the sofa, stretching her long legs. “That towel is close to falling. Want me to help you take it off?” she offered, her voice dripping invitation.

  He smiled again, good-naturedly, and secured the towel more firmly around his hips.

  “Thanks for your generosity, darling neighbor, but I’d better go change. Look, here are your presents,” he said, indicating a bag on a shelf.

  “Presents, in plural? Hmm…”

  Forgetting for a moment her intention of trailing him into the bedroom, Danielle began taking out of the bag the souvenirs and all kinds of knick-knacks.

  When he came back, dressed in jeans and a blue shirt, she said, “Thank you, precious! Your tactic was successful. This was bait so I wouldn’t follow you into the bedroom.”

  He let out a rich laugh, exposing his well-tanned throat.

  “I know you’re too much of a lady to do such a thing. Do you like them?”

  “Very much. How was your trip in Transylvania?” she asked, rolling her R-s like in the old vampire movies.

  His smile faltered. For a moment, he thought about telling her of all the strange happenings he and Linda had experienced. It was pointless though. He liked and respected Danielle, but she was a simple, ignorant woman. She wouldn’t have understood, and things would have complicated for him.

  “It was interesting,” he finally replied. “All in all, it was worth the effort. We returned in possession of some extremely valuable information for the clinic’s researches.”

  “I’m glad,” she said seriously, watching him intensely. “You’re a hell of a guy. Too bad I’m not the lucky woman to have you.”

  He was speechless for a moment, not knowing exactly what words to choose.

  “You’re a very special lady, Danielle,” he said eventually, in a soft voice. “I’m absolutely convinced you’ll soon meet a guy who will see you the way I do.”

  “He’d better look like Richard Gere too,” she joked, rising. “I’ll leave you to your business. You must be in a hurry to go to your girl. Here’s the key, and thanks for the presents.”

  He led her to the front door, then opened it for her. Before she got out, Danielle turned to face him and, standing on tiptoes, kissed him quickly on the lips.

  The kiss was so swift he didn’t have the chance to make any gesture, although an involuntary protest was the first reaction that stolen kiss triggered in him.

  Not looking him in the eyes, she spun around and headed rapidly toward the stairs leading up to her apartment.

  Still stunned, Gerard got back into his flat, closing and locking the door.

  Neither he, nor Danielle had seen the silhouette of the woman who was just climbing the stairs, and who had remained frozen at the sight that greeted her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Linda stood motionless in the semi-darkness, watching astonished as a vulgar-looking woman kissed her lover. She felt a terrible pain, almost physical, as though thousands of spears were brutally piercing her entire body. The first one went straight through her heart. For a split second, it seemed to stop beating. Never in her life had she experienced such an agonizing feeling. It was as though the entire world had ended and was now collapsing over her, crushing her mercilessly.

  With a painful sob tightening her throat, she descended the stairs quietly before anyone could see her. She got out of the building and looked around, at a loss, feeling numb. Like in a trance, she walked to the place where she’d left her car.

  She jerked violently when her cell phone started ringing inside her jacket’s pocket. She took it out and stared at the bright display. It was him. Gerard. He probably hadn’t even had time to wipe that whore’s lipstick from his mouth, before calling her. She bit her lower lip until she felt the metallic taste of her own blood, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. She hurled the still ringing phone with all her force. It smashed against a tree, shattering into dozens of small pieces. She stood for a few seconds, listening to her own ragged breathing in the abrupt silence. Then she got into her car, slamming the door. She revved the engine and floored the accelerator, launching at full speed onto the streets of London.

  It was dark, and the tears that wouldn’t stop falling blurred her vision. She wondered for a mad moment if it would be better for her just to die. To simply drive straight into the first obstacle she’d encounter. In that instant, she felt that was indeed what she wanted to do.

  But reason and pride took precedence in her mind and heart. To die for a man! How pathetic she was. Never! No one deserved this kind of honor, this sort of sacrifice. Especially that lying worm! How could she let her cat be orphaned, for a man?

  Her Italian ego was the only weapon she had against the wound bleeding deep into her soul. Pride had helped her get over all the bad memories, over Tony, over everything that had hurt her. It was going to help her now. After all, she’d been the one to declare from the start that she didn’t need, nor want, a serious relationship. Why was she complaining? What could be more un-serious than the man to whom she had offered herself—body and soul—kissing another woman?

  Well, it had looked like the woman was the one to do the kissing, but Linda’s reasoning—or the lack there of—rejected the continuation of this idea. No one could force a man of Gerard’s size and build. That woman hadn’t kissed him by physically constraining him, that was certain.

  But why? Why? What could that slut have offered him that I haven’t? What has a common whore over me? she thought, with the inbred superiority of high-class women.

  The she remembered Tony’s words, that night of the exhibit. All of her old hang-ups, which she’d thought Gerard had wiped from her subconscious, surfaced once more. Maybe she really was a lousy lover, not good in bed, or outside of it.

  She jerked the car to a stop on the side of a road she didn’t know. She lowered her head onto the steering wheel, her chest shaken by sobs. She wondered if this horrible pain would ever go away, or at least diminish. She wondered what he would feel if
he’d see her in another man’s arms. Would it be worth it to repay him with the same coin?

  No, it wouldn’t. That would mean lowering herself to his level, and she had too much self-respect. Or, she tried to. Besides, no man was going to make her feel what she felt with Gerard. Ever. She was sure of that.

  Why, oh why, had she listened to Giovanni and started this relationship? Why had she given Gerard the vote of confidence? She bitterly cursed herself for that. She wanted to call her brother. She longed for comfort, just as a person covered by burns feels the desperate need for ice, for a soothing balm, for anything that could bring relief.

  But she remembered her phone was now in pieces, somewhere near Gerard’s building. She swore aloud and rummaged in her bag for some tissues.

  Her jaw dropped at the sight of the object she discovered in one of the inner pockets of her handbag. She bent and studied it in the dim light, then shook her head in dismay. After a moment, she let it fall back on the headrest. What difference did it make now? It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did.

  After driving aimlessly for hours, she headed home, feeling that she had a stone instead of a heart. But stones couldn’t feel pain, while her heart was in agony.

  She saw Gerard from a distance as she drove toward her gate, and involuntarily bit her lip, which started bleeding again. She gritted her teeth, punching the steering wheel hard. Somewhere in her subconscious, she’d predicted she was going to find him here, but he was the last person she wanted to see.

  She jerked the car to a stop behind his Jeep, and Gerard ran toward her. She took a restorative breath, grabbed her handbag and stormed out of the car. He reached her in two strides. Putting his arms around her, he drew her close against him, holding her tightly.

 

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