‘Maybe...’ Juliette sighed and leaned her cheek against his chest. ‘They say time is a great healer, but how much time?’
‘As long as it takes, I guess.’
There was a small silence, broken only by the sound of his hand stroking the back of her head and their quiet breathing.
It was an enormous comfort to her that he felt the same sense of loss. She had unfairly assumed he was less affected because he hadn’t been the one to carry the baby, to physically give birth, and that he hadn’t been there to witness the birth. But she realised now his expression of grief was different from hers.
Not wrong, but different.
Juliette lifted her head off his chest and looked up at him. ‘I can’t avoid social events for ever. I want to go with you. It’s important to support such valuable fundraising.’
A small smile flicked up the corners of his mouth and illuminated his gaze. ‘We could make a long weekend of it. How does that sound?’
She linked her arms around his neck and smiled. ‘It sounds wonderful. I haven’t been to Paris for years.’
He pressed a kiss to her upturned mouth. ‘How remiss of me not to have taken you before now.’
Juliette played with the ends of his hair that brushed his collar. But she was conscious of a small grey cloud of unease creeping closer. Paris. The city of love. Had he taken anyone else in the past? She wasn’t aware she was frowning until Joe inched up her chin and smoothed the crease away from her forehead with a gentle finger.
‘What’s wrong, mio piccolo?’
Juliette forced a smile but it fell a little short of the mark. ‘I guess you’ve been to Paris heaps and heaps of times with lots of other...people...’ She couldn’t bring herself to say the word lovers—the pang of jealousy was too intense.
His eyes softened and he drew her closer with one hand resting in the dip of her spine, the other gliding to the sensitive nape of her neck. ‘You have no need to feel jealous, cara.’
Juliette slipped out of his hold and pretended an interest in straightening her sketches on the table. ‘I’m not jealous. I know you’ve been to lots of places with lots of different people.’
‘But none of them have been my wife.’
My wife. The words sounded so...so permanent. But they hadn’t decided anything permanent about their relationship. They had discussed a lot of issues, yes. And grown closer in so many new ways. But Juliette knew there would be other issues to discuss. Difficult, painful issues—whether or not to have another child, for instance. That was one of the questions she most dreaded. For months and months since the loss of her baby, she couldn’t bear the thought of trying again. Going through another pregnancy with fear and dread on board as well as a baby. A baby there was no guarantee she would deliver alive.
Juliette held onto the back of one of the chairs and glanced down at her ring finger. The vacant space seemed to mock her. He referred to her as his wife but there had been no renewed promises. No official reconciliation. No renewed commitment. No declaration of love.
She brought her gaze back to his. ‘Have you told anyone we’re...?’ She left the sentence hanging, not sure how to describe their relationship. A fling sounded so tawdry. An affair even worse.
‘No. Have you?’
She pressed her lips together and released her grip on the chair, using one hand to sweep her hair back over one shoulder. ‘I didn’t think it was necessary...under the circumstances.’
‘Precisely.’ Something about the delivery of the word was jarring. Discordant. Like the wrong note played during a musical performance.
Juliette ran the tip of her tongue over her lower lip. ‘It would be silly to get people’s hopes up. Lucy and Damon, for instance.’ Not to mention her own hopes.
‘But what if the fundraiser draws a lot of press attention? Aren’t people going to assume we’re back together permanently?’
The ensuing silence was too long. Why wasn’t he asking her to come back to him for ever? Why wasn’t he dismissing her concerns with a declaration of love?
‘There isn’t a law about divorcing couples attending a social function together.’ Joe’s voice sounded tight. Constricted. ‘If anything, it will demonstrate how civilised we’re being about the whole damn thing.’
She studied his tense features for a moment, wondering if he was having second thoughts about their divorce. But, if so, why hadn’t he said anything? ‘Joe...?’
He scraped a hand through his hair and released a rough sigh. ‘The press will probably make a big thing of it, but that’s to be expected. I’ll try and shield you as much as possible.’
Juliette approached him, touching him on the forearm. ‘I want to be with you.’ She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more. Not just the Paris trip but with him all the time. For ever. Was she a fool for hoping he would agree to a reconciliation? Maybe the Paris trip would cement their relationship—take it to a new level that would make him realise they had a chance to make it.
The tension in his face relaxed slightly and he cupped her face in his hands. His eyes searched hers as if he was looking for something he’d lost and hoped desperately to find again. ‘The dinner is only for a couple of hours. We can spend the rest of the time doing our own thing.’
She linked her arms around his neck and pressed closer. ‘I can’t wait.’
CHAPTER TEN
THEY ARRIVED IN Paris on Friday afternoon and once they had settled into their luxury hotel Joe suggested they go shopping.
‘Shopping?’ Juliette looked at him in wary surprise. ‘But I don’t need anything.’
‘How about a new outfit for tomorrow night?’ He wanted to spoil her. To make this weekend as special for her as he could. To make this weekend last for as long as he could.
‘I brought one with me. You don’t have to waste money buying me expensive—’
‘I insist, cara.’
Something flickered across her features. A tightening. A guardedness. ‘Are you concerned I won’t dress appropriately?’
Joe mentally kicked himself. He should know by now how proud and sensitive she was. He took her by the hands and brought her close to his body. ‘You always look amazing in whatever you wear. Indulge me, tesoro. Let me spoil you this weekend.’
Her gaze slipped to the open collar of his shirt, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. ‘I feel guilty about all the money you’re spending. This hotel, first class airfares, designer clothes.’
He tipped up her face to meet her gaze. ‘Don’t you think you’re worth it?’
Her eyes swam with doubt. ‘It’s not about that...’
‘Then what is it about?’
Her teeth did another nibble of her lip and she slipped out of his hold. ‘We’re not exactly acting like a soon-to-be-divorced couple, are we?’
‘I wasn’t aware there was a strict protocol we had to follow.’ Joe couldn’t remove the note of bitterness from his tone. The divorce word was becoming worse to him than the birthday and funeral words. Every time he heard it, his heart stopped and his gut clenched like a fist.
Juliette turned to pick up her silk scarf from where she had left it on the bed. She looped it around her neck and turned back to face him. ‘It feels wrong, taking gifts off you when we’re not—’
‘Does it feel wrong sleeping with me?’
Her expression faltered for a moment. ‘No.’ Her cheeks pooled with a tinge of pink and her gaze drifted to his mouth. ‘It doesn’t feel wrong at all.’ Her voice was a few decibels shy of a whisper. ‘But I can’t help feeling it should.’ A frown pulled at her forehead as if she was trying to solve a deeply puzzling mystery.
Joe placed his hands on her hips, his body responding to her closeness with a hot rush of blood to his groin. ‘It would only be wrong if one of us didn’t want to. Or if one of us was involved with someone else. But, for now, we�
�re involved with each other.’
Her mouth flickered with a vestige of a smile. ‘Right.’ She took a serrated breath and released it. ‘For now.’ She said the two words as if she was underlining them.
‘If you’re not okay with that, then you need to tell me.’
Her grey-blue eyes were clear and still as a lake but he sensed a disturbance just below the surface. ‘I’m okay with it.’ Her tone was confident, assured. Her smile a little too bright to be believed.
Joe reached for one of her hands and brought it up to his mouth. He pressed his lips to her bent knuckles, holding her gaze with his. ‘Then let’s make the most of it.’
* * *
A couple of hours later, Juliette felt as if she had stepped into Cinderella’s shoes. Joe took her to various designer stores, where he proceeded to buy her not one, but several gorgeous outfits. She tried not to think about the money he was spending or why he was spending it on her. It was wonderful to be spoilt like a princess and wonderful to be in his company, walking hand in hand along the streets as if they were just like any other couple.
‘Time for a coffee?’ Joe said when they came across a street café.
‘Lovely.’ Juliette sat opposite him and took in the surroundings while they waited for the waiter to arrive. The leafy trees along the footpath created a canopy of dappled shade. The afternoon was mild with a light breeze that every now and again set the leaves above them into a shivery dance that sounded like thousands of pieces of tinsel. In the distance she could see the ancient cathedral of Notre Dame in various stages of repair after the devastating fire that had threatened the entire structure. It reminded her of her relationship with Joe—the savage fire of loss had ripped through their lives and left them both scarred shells of themselves. But maybe this time together would rebuild the framework of their marriage, making it stronger and more resistant to damage.
The waiter took their order and within a short time an espresso was placed in front of Joe and tea and a buttery croissant set in front of Juliette. She was conscious of Joe’s gaze resting on her as she broke off pieces of the croissant. She glanced at him and held up a portion. ‘Want some?’
He shook his head, his smile indulgent, and he patted his rock-hard abdomen. ‘No, thanks. I have to think of my figure.’
Juliette laughed and put the piece of croissant back on her plate. ‘Now you’re making me feel guilty.’
There was a small silence.
‘I’ve missed hearing your laugh.’ He brought his cup up to his mouth, taking a sip without his gaze leaving her face.
Juliette could feel a light blush heating her cheeks. ‘I can’t remember the last time I laughed.’ She sighed and added, ‘It seems like a lifetime ago.’
He put his cup back on its saucer and reached for her hand across the table. His fingers gently squeezed hers, his expression sombre as he looked down at their joined hands. ‘I think I was probably five or six years old when I first heard my father laugh. A proper laugh, I mean.’ His thumb stroked the empty space on her ring finger. ‘I asked him about it once. He said he felt guilty about being happy.’ His eyes met hers. ‘Like he was betraying my mother’s memory.’
Juliette placed her other hand on top of his. ‘It must have been so hard growing up without your mother. Mine drives me crazy at times but I can’t imagine not having her in my life.’
His mouth flickered with a smile touched by sadness. ‘I could mostly put it out of my mind but now and again something would remind me I wasn’t like the other kids at school. Lots of them were in single parent families but mostly it was from divorce or separation, not the death of a parent. Parent-teacher interviews were difficult, and on Mother’s Day, when the teacher got us to make cards, I made one for my nonna instead.’
‘Were you close to your nonna?’
‘I adored her. She was a widow herself so she understood what my father was going through but she died when I was nine.’ His mouth twisted. ‘I never met my mother’s parents. They refused to have anything to do with my father. They weren’t keen on him as a son-in-law in the first place, so you can imagine how they felt once she died. They blamed him for her death. I’m sure it didn’t help his grieving process.’
Juliette’s heart ached for what he had been through. So much sadness. So much loss. So much grief. Somehow it made what she had been through a little easier to bear. Just a little. ‘I don’t know how you coped with all that sadness. Did things improve at all once your dad remarried?’
‘Yes and no.’ Joe released her hand and picked up his coffee cup, cradling it baseball mitt style in one hand. ‘My father was certainly happier. And my stepmother was nice enough but it was hard for her bringing up someone else’s kid. A kid she had no history with, who she suddenly had to mother when she married my father. When they had two kids together, I felt even more of an outsider.’ He lifted his cup to his lips and drained the contents, placing it back down on the saucer. ‘And when my father died my stepmother no longer had to pretend to play happy blended families any more.’
If only he had told her this in the past. If only she had understood the trauma and sadness that had shaped his personality—the grief that had robbed him of a normal childhood and made him so cautious about relationships.
Juliette pushed her plate to one side and touched his hand where it was resting on the table. ‘I wish I’d known more about your background when we first met.’
His eyes met hers, his fingers wrapping around hers in a gentle hold. ‘I can’t remember the last time I told anyone about any of this. It’s not something I like talking about. Plenty of people have it much worse than I did.’
‘Yes, but we were married and I should’ve understood you better.’ She frowned and looked down at their joined hands. His wedding ring was a reminder that she was the one to leave their marriage, not him. Would he remove it once their divorce was finalised? Her stomach pitched at the thought of him being with someone else. She swallowed a tight lump and continued, ‘I should’ve made more of an effort.’
Joe leaned forward and stroked a lazy finger down the curve of her cheek. ‘None of this is your fault. You had your own stuff going on with your ex.’
Juliette sat back in her chair with a little thump and folded her arms and frowned. ‘I wish you’d stop mentioning my ex. I don’t even think I was truly in love with Harvey. I think I only continued with the relationship as long as I did as it seemed to please my parents.’
He studied her for a long moment. ‘Were they pleased when we broke up?’
Juliette unfolded her arms and slumped her shoulders on a sigh. ‘No. If anything, they thought I was being impulsive and letting my emotions overshadow everything. But I shut them down pretty quickly and they’ve said nothing since.’
‘One could hardly blame you for being emotional, given the circumstances.’ His tone was a disarming blend of gruffness and tenderness.
Juliette lowered her gaze, leaned forward and pushed a piece of croissant around her plate with her finger. ‘I don’t see much of them these days. They’re always so busy with work. I know their careers are important to them but it always makes me feel I’m way down on their list of priorities.’ She sighed and added, ‘I wonder if it will change when they retire. If they retire, that is.’
There was a long silence.
Juliette chanced a glance at him but he was looking into the distance as if his thoughts had been pulled elsewhere. It gave her a moment to study his features—the frown of concentration, the sharply intelligent gaze, the chiselled jaw with its peppered regrowth, the sculptured contours of his mouth. Her belly flip-flopped when she thought about his mouth on hers, the silken thrust of his tongue, the heat and fire of his kiss.
He stirred his coffee even though she knew he didn’t take sugar, his gaze focused on the tiny whirlpool he created in his cup. ‘Some people live to work—others work to live.’
Juliette shifted uncomfortably in her chair. ‘I suppose you think that makes me sound like a spoilt brat, insisting on being the centre of my parents’ world.’
His gaze met hers. ‘I don’t think that at all. It can be difficult when our caregivers don’t meet our expectations. Sometimes it’s down to circumstances, other times to personality.’
Another silence ticked past.
Juliette shifted her gaze to the left of his. ‘I was a change of life baby. An accident. A mistake.’
His expression clouded. ‘Surely they didn’t say they didn’t want you?’
Juliette chewed the side of her lip. ‘No. Never—it’s just a feeling I’ve had over the years. Having a child at their stage of life must have been an inconvenience. My brothers were eighteen and twenty. I spent a lot of time with nannies and babysitters and, of course, boarding school, which I hated. I think that’s why I never did that well at school. I disengaged out of emotional distress.’
He touched her hand where it was resting on the table. ‘Don’t be fooled into thinking a bunch of letters after your name makes you smart. You are an intelligent and hugely talented artist.’
Juliette hoped her creative drive would come back stronger than before but it had taken such a blow with the death of her baby. Her motivation had been totally crushed and was only now flickering into life. ‘Thanks.’
He smiled and waved a hand at her teacup. ‘Would you like a refill?’
‘No. I’m done.’ She pushed back her chair while he gathered the array of shopping bags around his chair.
He paid the bill and within a short time they were on their way back to the hotel. Once they arrived, Joe handed the porter the bags and accompanied Juliette to the private lift to the penthouse.
‘Why don’t you have a bit of a rest before dinner?’ he said as the lift arrived at their suite. ‘I have a couple of things to see to.’
The Return 0f Her Billionaire Husband (HQR Presents) Page 11