Georgia felt anger whip through her. Did he take her for an idiot? What kind of pathetic little fairy tale was he about to spin her now?
‘That’s a lie,’ she ground back at him. ‘I happen to know that she is. Last night, when we met in the hall, she asked me, “Where is Papa?”’
‘I don’t doubt that she did.’ Jean-Claude continued to look at her. ‘She’s always called me Papa, ever since she first knew me, which was when she was roughly seven years old. And, though I do tend to think of her as my natural daughter, I’m afraid she’s actually nothing of the sort. She’s my stepdaughter. Though, really, not even that any more. Nicole is the daughter of my ex-wife.’
Georgia froze. ‘What did you say? Did you say ex-wife?’
He nodded. ‘We divorced just over four years ago. I didn’t tell you—though I came close that time you asked if I was married because it really isn’t something I enjoy talking about. I did my best to make the marriage work and it rankles that it failed, even though I realise now that we were totally unsuited.’
There was no doubt at all that he was speaking the truth. As she sat there looking back at him, quite speechless for a moment, Georgia could sense all too acutely the painful emotion behind his words. Though his pain, she felt quite certain, was the pain of failure, not of loss. Failure, after all, was not something Jean-Claude was accustomed to and the collapse of his marriage must have been a bitter pill to swallow.
‘So, you discovered that you’re human. That you can’t actually control the world.’ She spoke softly, though there was an edge of censure in her voice. Her hazel eyes narrowed. ‘You know,’ she continued, ‘the fact that you’ve been married is a pretty basic piece of information. It would have been nice if you’d trusted me enough to tell me before.’
‘I’ve explained why I didn’t tell you. It had nothing to do with trust. It just happens to be something I don’t like to talk about.’
‘Maybe so, but I’m not suggesting you should’ve gone into details. Just the plain, simple facts would have been enough.’
For a moment, he said nothing. Detaching his gaze from hers, he stared down at his untouched cup of coffee.
Georgia watched him. Maybe he’s mad at me for daring to criticise, she thought. Well, that’s just too bad. Some things have to be said.
‘The worst bit about it was that there was a child involved. Nicole, I’m afraid, took the break-up very hard.’
Without raising his eyes, Jean-Claude had started to speak again, his tone quietly reflective, almost as though he was talking to himself.
‘She’s never known her real father and she and I have always been very close. Like I said, she’s always regarded me as her father and I think she was terrified—as I was—that we might lose touch. The first few months after the break-up were very difficult.’
Georgia remained silent, not really sure what to say. She was aware of a new, different emotion flowing out of him. True regret. Genuine sorrow. Sharp and raw and real. This was more than just the pain of failure. This, she sensed, had touched his soul.
‘But we came through it and, thank heavens, we’re still as close as we ever were. Even closer, perhaps. Like two battered soldiers who’ve managed to survive together through a war.’
He glanced up at her and smiled, a wry little smile, sad and triumphant at the same time. ‘If we’d lost each other, I would never have forgiven myself,’ he added.
Quite unexpectedly, Georgia found herself moved by the fierce emotion that shone from his face. He plainly loved Nicole as though she were his own daughter and held their relationship to be an immensely precious thing. Georgia watched him, a little thrown. This was a side of him she’d never guessed at—this tender, protective, deeply caring side. It felt a little like catching a glimpse inside a secret room.
For he’d actually revealed a very great deal. Not just the strength of his feelings for the girl, but also the fact that he was as vulnerable as the next man. His fear of losing her had obviously been deeply felt.
But through the softening of sympathy Georgia could feel growing inside her a tiny crumb of suspicion remained.
She looked into his eyes. ‘Why are you telling me these things?’ Was this a ploy to win her round? Was he trying to gain her sympathy in order to persuade her to forgive him?
He didn’t answer at once. He narrowed his eyes, as though searching inside himself for the answer. Then, surprising her, he reached across the table for her hand, and, when she didn’t resist, held it softly in both of his.
‘Perhaps to prove to you that you’re wrong. I do trust you enough to tell you things. It wasn’t because I don’t trust you that I didn’t tell you I’d been married. I suspect it was probably more just out of habit. It tends to be a subject I avoid.’
Georgia could feel the hand he held between his start to relax. When he’d taken it, she’d wondered about snatching it away, but something—she wasn’t sure what—had stopped her. Perhaps some sense that he really was being genuinely honest with her. A realisation that she’d judged him a little too harshly, after all.
She smiled at him. ‘I’m glad it turned out well between you and Nicole.’ Then, on an impulse, she decided to be a little more generous.
‘Actually, I think it’s marvellous that you’ve managed to remain so close to her. A young girl needs a loving, stable father figure in her life.’ She thought of her uncle David, who, in the absence of her real farther, had filled that essential role for her.
‘Nicole’s very lucky having someone like you around,’ she added. For she could sense very strongly, as she looked into his eyes, that he would be to Nicole the same ultra-dependable rock that uncle David had always been to her. ‘Very lucky indeed, I’d say.’
He smiled, his expression softening. ‘It’s me who’s lucky, really. It gives me a great deal of satisfaction to be a part of her life which, I have to say, I seem to be more than usual at the moment.’ He shook his head in a proud, happy, fatherly sort of way. ‘She’s trying to decide what career she wants to follow and is forever phoning me up to ask my advice on this or that, so we’re in touch even more frequently than usual. Life is one long, endless round of telephone messages these days.’
Georgia smiled at the evident pleasure in his face. Then a thought suddenly struck her. ‘Didn’t your ex-wife remarry?’
‘As a matter of fact, she did, but that marriage ran into trouble too. She and her new husband separated about a year ago. He’s an American, from Philadelphia, and he went back to the States.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘That was another blow for Nicole, of course.’
‘Which makes it even more important that she still has you.’
‘That’s what I tend to think too.’ He smiled a grateful smile. ‘It’s why I always try to make myself available for her and make sure she knows where I am so she can find me if she ever needs me.’ He frowned. ‘Though I’m afraid I didn’t get round to telling her I was staying here, which is why she moved in last night without letting me know.
‘She often uses the flat if she’s been out late with friends and doesn’t feel like a long cab journey home.’ He paused, a smile and a frown colliding on his face. ‘Normally, I’m more than happy for her to do so, just as long as she okays it first with her mother, but last night, you could say, was rather bad timing.’
Georgia pulled a face too, suddenly feeling really foolish. ‘I’m sorry about last night. I should have let you explain. But I was just too upset. I thought that—’
She broke off, abruptly dropping her eyes to the table-top. She was saying too much. Giving away her foolish feelings, which had suddenly flared up inside her again.
Once more, she felt the anger, the hurt, the betrayal and the overpowering sense of loss that had enclosed her last night, as though something that mattered desperately had been cruelly snatched away. She felt crushed and bereft, things she’d no right to feel. Things she didn’t want to think about and certainly would never reveal to him.
She shook her head a
nd finished evasively, ‘I really didn’t know what to think.’
‘I don’t blame you.’ Jean-Claude raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘It was my fault for not explaining the situation, but it never crossed my mind that Nicole might show up.’ Then he smiled. ‘But at least we’ve got things clear now.’ He looked deep into her eyes. ‘They are clear, aren’t they?’
‘Perfectly clear.’ As Georgia smiled back at him, she was trying to control the sudden surging in her heart at the warm, sensuous look in his eyes. She felt a hot, sharp twist of longing inside her.
‘And you’re not planning to move out now, I hope?’ He gave her hand a light squeeze. As he smiled, the blue eyes were dark with promise, making the longing inside her twist even more tightly. ‘And you’re going to give me the chance to make it up to you for last night...?’
Georgia looked back at him, weak with happiness and relief. ‘And I’ll try to make it up to you for instantly jumping to the wrong conclusion.’
‘It’s a deal.’ He leaned towards her, one hand reaching to take hold of her, his long, strong fingers curling through her hair as he drew her wide-eyed, expectant face towards his.
Georgia’s heart was turning somersaults. Then it seemed to stand still as the clean, sharp scent of him filled her nostrils and his lips crushed warmly, hungrily against hers. She clung to him, happily drowning, excitement pouring through her veins. This moment and this kiss were only the beginning.
But the moment and the kiss were all too quickly cut short. Suddenly, the kitchen door burst open and Nicole, still in her nightshirt, walked into the room.
‘Good morning, you two,’ she greeted them without batting an eyelid. Then she glanced round and demanded, ‘OK, what’s for breakfast?’
‘So, tell me, what do you think of my terrible stepdaughter?’
It was several hours later and Georgia and Jean-Claude were heading back towards the centre of Paris, having just driven to Vincennes to drop Nicole off at her home. Jean-Claude was smiling proudly as he asked the question, apparently in no doubt about how Georgia would respond.
She smiled back at him. He had good reason to be proud and she had absolutely no problem providing the answer he expected.
‘I like her a lot. I really think she’s a great kid. I’m glad I got the chance to meet her.’
‘So am I. And she liked you, too. You got the seal of approval, which I can assure you is an extremely rare occurrence indeed. Nicole tends to be hyper-critical of people.’
‘We all are at that age.’
Georgia glanced across at him. No doubt the spirited sixteen-year-old tended to be hyper-critical of his girlfriends, for she clearly thought the world of her handsome stepfather, with whom, it had been plain to see, she had an excellent relationship. It had been wonderful to watch the easy affection between them.
Her eyes swept over the strong profile, feeling something close to affection in her own heart. He was turning out to be not at all what she’d judged him and each new discovery she made pleased her more and more. It had begun to look as though she’d stumbled upon a remarkable human being.
And she was glad that she and Nicole, for whom he cared so deeply, should have hit it off so easily and so instantly, for the sympathy between them had been totally instinctive. She’d been flattered and touched when they’d been dropping Nicole off and Nicole had embraced her, saying, ‘I hope we’ll meet again.’ Georgia very much hoped the same, though hoping it scared her. It would depend on what happened between herself and Jean-Claude and it would be dangerous to start having too many hopes about that.
Yet it was impossible not to, especially when he was glancing across at her with that warm look in his eyes and telling her, ‘I insist you stay on for the rest of the weekend. Not just because there are still some people I want to speak to about those missing clothes of yours. But because I want you here. I want to spend time with you. I want to make this weekend special.’
He held her gaze. ‘Let’s go and have lunch now and decide what we’re going to do for the rest of the day. Though I’ve already decided how we’re going to spend this evening. I have a surprise in store. One I think you’ll like this time.’
‘OK.’ Georgia smiled back at him. She was actually rather glad that last night’s little fiasco had happened.
Today, she was much more sure of her feelings for him. All her doubts about what kind of man he was had finally vanished. He was a decent man, with scruples. And that meant a lot.
As they headed for the city centre, she felt a tug of excitement and the sudden urgent need to put up a small prayer.
Please let there be more to it than just this weekend, she begged silently. Otherwise, what on earth is going to happen to my heart?
They had a wonderful lunch together in the Rue Muffatard, a chic little area full of ethnic restaurants.
‘How about Algerian?’ Jean-Claude had suggested. And Georgia had nodded enthusiastically. ‘Sounds great and it’ll be a first. I’ve never had Algerian before.’
Over the couscous and roast lamb they told each other all about their respective childhoods—though this time it was Jean-Claude who started asking questions first. And as Georgia regaled him with stories about growing up in Bidcombe, then listened as he told her about his boyhood in Paris, she was aware that something between them had altered.
There was a new warmth in the way they related to one another. As though they’d finally decided they genuinely liked each other and could trust one another enough to be totally free and honest.
After lunch, they spent an hour or so just wandering round the area, looking in shop windows and exploring the wonderful food market. And all the while they chatted, for they seemed to have endless things to say to each other, and being together suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world.
It was as they were stopping at a small café for a cup of coffee that Jean-Claude slipped his arm through Georgia’s and said, ‘I haven’t explained yet what my plans are for this evening—and I want your OK before I actually go ahead. If there’s anything else you’d rather do, all you’ve got to do is say.’
Georgia looked into his eyes and felt a shiver go through her. As long as he was planning for them to spend the evening together, there was really nothing else in the world she wanted. She rather wished she could tell him that, but it was too early for such things.
‘Tell me what you have in mind and I’ll let you know what I think,’ she said instead.
Jean-Claude said nothing for a moment, just continued to watch her. Then he reached out very softly and touched a strand of her hair. Instantly, her heart did a somersault in her chest.
‘I was thinking—’ he began, smiling. Then he broke off and bent to kiss her, a kiss as soft as a whisper that made her toes curl in her shoes.
It happened every time he bestowed one of those fleeting kisses, which he’d been doing with delightful frequency all afternoon. Georgia looked into his eyes and smiled. ‘What were you thinking?’ she prompted, teasing.
He kissed her again. ‘I was thinking,’ he continued, ‘that we could have dinner together in Gif sur Yvette. I could phone Miranda, my housekeeper, and get her to cook up something special, make sure there’s a bottle of Krug in the fridge, and the two of us could have a private little dinner party together...’
He gave her another fleeting kiss as he caressed her cheek with his fingers, sending skitters of excitement rushing down her spine. ‘How does that appeal to you?’ He paused and looked into her eyes. ‘And naturally, of course, we’ll stay overnight...’
Georgia looked back at him, not quite focusing as he kissed her again, his lips lingering for just a fraction longer this time. It was pretty plain what he was proposing. That they’d be spending the night together. And not only under the same roof, but also in the same bed. She knew it was what she wanted, but suddenly, unexpectedly, she was aware of an anxious clench inside her.
Was she sure of what she was walking into? Was
she prepared to embark on a brief affair? For he was offering no assurances that it would be anything more.
But she’d always known the score and she’d already come so close. If it hadn’t been for that surprise encounter with Nicole, she would almost certainly have slept with him last night.
So, why hesitate now? It seemed to make no sense—except that, last night, things had somehow been different. She’d been carried away on a tide of seductive magic that had made what was happening feel a little unreal. Now the shape of things had altered. The magic was still there, but her feelings for him had become much more grounded in reality.
It would be a great deal harder now to repeat last night’s madness and not quite so easy, she feared, to keep her heart safe.
She swallowed as she looked back at him. ‘I love the idea of dinner.’ Then she had to drop her eyes from his as she added, ‘But as for anything else, let’s just wait and see.’
‘Of course.’ He made no attempt to talk her round. He just kissed her very softly on the top of her bent head.
They went back to the Champs Elysées to pick up her things, and while they were there Jean-Claude made a quick call to Miranda.
‘Just as I expected, she’s absolutely thrilled.’ He was smiling broadly as he laid down the phone. ‘Miranda’s a first-class cook and she loves nothing better than being asked to produce a special dinner at short notice. That’s when she always manages to surpass herself.’
He reached for Georgia’s hand. ‘Come on. Let’s go and see her.’
The Gif sur Yvette villa was like something out of a fairy tale. Vast. Exquisite. Set in a magnificent garden with breathtaking views out over the river.
Dusk had already fallen when they arrived and the villa and garden were bathed in gentle floodlight. As they stepped out onto the terrace, Georgia was convinced that she’d never seen anything more amazing in her life.
How on earth could this have happened? It felt like a dream. How had she, Georgia Dee, an ordinary working girl, ended up in this magical place with this wonderful man? As he slipped an arm round her waist and kissed her on the cheek, she shivered and wondered if perhaps she ought to pinch herself. Surely any minute she was going to wake up and discover that the whole thing really had just been a dream?
Waiting for Mr. Wonderful! Page 10