I Promise You This (Love in Provence Book 3)

by Patricia Sands

  “TMI, thank you very much,” Andrea said with a snort.

  “Of course you’ll stay with us,” Katherine insisted. “I promise we’ll behave.”

  As they all said good night, Philippe thanked them again for meeting him at the airport.

  Alone at last, Katherine lit a candle in the master bedroom.

  “I feel like a schoolgirl, having you in what was my parents’ bedroom. I’ve never slept with a man in this house. Imagine that. Silly, huh?”

  “Remember the first time we made love?” Philippe whispered as he sat on the bed and drew her to him. He unbuttoned her blouse as he ran his tongue lightly across her lips and down her neck. Lifting his head, he studied her face, intimately tracing his fingers over her breasts.

  Katherine leaned into him, pressing his hands on her breasts. Her eyes closed and her voice caught. “I’ll never forget it. Our romantic box seats at the Nice Opera House and that sizzling performance of La Bohème.”

  They shared a look of pure desire before he grinned. “Then our unexpected swim in the Med . . .”

  They laughed, remembering how Katherine had lost her balance on the pebbles and pulled him into the warm sea with her.

  They shushed each other now and tried to control their voices.

  Philippe’s lips hungrily found her mouth, her face, her neck. He whispered in between kisses, “It began in the shower.”

  “Oh yes it did.” Kat whispered back, between returning his kisses, her voice full of passion. She took his hand and led him into the master bathroom. He smiled, seeing a candle already lit in there too.

  Still holding her hand, he reached in to turn on the water in the shower. “You went in first to wash off the saltwater . . .”

  Their clothes fell to the floor as they kissed more urgently, their lips asking and taking. Their caresses touched all the right places. Philippe slowly turned her around, his eyes smoldering, “Je suis fou amoureux de toi . . .”

  Katherine tingled with burning desire. Every nerve felt ignited. She smiled seductively, her voice throaty as she said, “And then I brazenly turned and beckoned you in. You made me crazy for you—like you are now.”

  Naked, she stepped into the shower and turned to press herself against him as he followed. She moved readily to his touch, their arms wrapped around each other.

  “It’s so good to feel you again,” she sighed. Her hands moved slowly over his strong shoulders before her fingers played with the dark curls at his neck.

  “I missed you so much . . .” Philippe ran his fingers through her hair. Their lips parted, and their tongues danced a slow rhythm together. His hands slid down her back, and her heart beat wildly before he gently grasped her buttocks and pulled her to him.

  Steam enveloped them.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The following day, Molly was stronger and more focused. She put in a written request for sashimi when the others left for lunch. The rawness in her throat, from all the tubes they had removed, was much improved and she could eat most foods now.

  She hugged Andrea and Terrence good-bye as they explained they were going home for a few days. Her eyes glistened as she nodded at them and scribbled a huge “Thank You!” on the whiteboard.

  At the sushi restaurant, Nick encouraged Kat and Philippe to go to Andrea’s farm that weekend while he spent time with Molly. “I’ve got to blow this pop stand on Sunday night. We’re heading back to Oz via Tokyo and Singapore.”

  “We’ll plan to arrive at the farm for lunch on Saturday and then come back for lunch with Molly on Sunday,” Kat suggested. “How does that sound?”

  “Take your time, mates,” Nick said. “Why not plan to be back with Moll by supper time. Then you don’t have to rush and I get more time to have her all to myself.” He finished his sentence off with a sly wink.

  “Nick, you’re proving yourself to be an outrageous flirt. Your reputation preceded you and you’re validating it in fine fashion!” Andrea teased as they prepared to leave.

  Katherine enjoyed watching Nick and Philippe laugh and chat comfortably with each other. She’d been nervous that there might be some tension between them, but now berated herself for thinking she might be the cause.

  This isn’t high school, for heaven’s sake! Still, it was awkward to think of herself as an object of desire at her age. Nevertheless, the proof was there—and she loved it!

  The two men appeared to be the same good friends they were in Antibes. She was thankful for that. Philippe told Nick about the work that was going on with the villa, and they all made tentative plans for a summer reunion.

  Nick discreetly left the hospital in the middle of the afternoon but insisted that Mohammed would drive them home. Katherine agreed that 6:30 would be fine so they could help Molly with dinner.

  In the backseat of the car, Philippe caressed Katherine’s hand and pulled her close to him. The sensuality of their reunion the night before still lingered. “Nick certainly knows how to live the high life! That hasn’t changed.”

  Kat laughed. “Unbelievable, really! He’s a genuinely decent soul, though, and his generosity is amazing.”

  Philippe agreed. “He’s seriously wealthy, bien sûr. I’ve never known anyone like him.”

  The few silent moments that followed felt almost awkward to Katherine, but she quickly dismissed them. She thought it was simply her imagination that Philippe might feel jealous about the time she had spent with Nick.

  Philippe changed the subject by engaging in conversation with Mohammed, and soon Katherine joined in. Traffic was light, and they were home in good time.

  Once in the house, Philippe suggested he build a fire.

  “That’s a great idea! And let’s eat in front of it when we get hungry. There are plenty of leftovers.”

  Lounging on the sofa, Philippe watched as Katherine opened a cabinet full of record albums. After taking out several, she lifted the top of the cabinet to reveal a turntable. She stacked the albums and flipped the switch.

  “Mon dieu! John Coltrane . . .” Philippe took Katherine in his arms, and they slow danced for a moment before he walked her to the stereo cabinet. “You are the one full of surprises now, Minou. Who still has records and a turntable like this?”

  “Isn’t that something? It’s my parents’ stereo cabinet from 1965. They always loved music and had record players, but this was the latest technology at the time and my dad was so proud of it. When he turned seventy, we bought him an updated turntable. So this one is only fifteen years old.”

  “Incroyable!”

  “On Friday evenings they would play music and dance.”

  “C’est romantique! Just Fridays?”

  “Yes, Saturday is hockey night in Canada, come hell or high water.” She laughed at Philippe’s quizzical expression and explained what she meant. Then they sat down and she gave him a quick history of the Canadian obsession with hockey.

  Philippe laughed at her description of fans’ loyalty when the National Hockey League was small and everyone knew all the players like relatives. “It truly was a family tradition, with everyone gathered at the radio to listen—before television arrived.”

  Coltrane’s music continued, and they sat on the floor with their plates on the coffee table, chatting and eating dinner.

  Philippe insisted Kat remain where she sat while he cleared their dishes. Upon his return, with a wide grin, he presented a plate with a grand flourish. On it were sea salt crackers and a heart-shaped cheese that Kat recognized immediately. “Oh my! That’s the same romantic cheese you gave me on my birthday. Neufchâtel! You brought it with you?”

  He nodded: “Séduisant!” They laughed at the memory.

  “Has any other woman been so wooed by delicious cheese?” Kat pondered, her eyes crinkling with delight. “This came by private plane with you, I presume?”

  Savoring the delicate, creamy Neufchâtel slowly, they reminisced about Kat’s birthday. Their bodies melded as they nestled into the down-filled cushions of the so
fa. The melody of the mellow sax wafted through the room, and the pressures of the past week eased in both of them.

  Katherine said softly, “My father often said music was their religion. I never thought about that comment until my mother wrote that letter to me about their life during World War Two. Her letter definitely gave me greater understanding about how they raised me and how they lived their lives.”

  “Of course, you told me about that letter before you went to their village in the Ukraine last summer with your nephew. I’ll never forget how upset you were when you returned. You didn’t talk much about it then, you know.”

  She nodded, and her hand went to her mother’s necklace around her neck. “This was my mother’s. I’ve decided that wearing it will keep her close to me no matter where I live.”

  Philippe admired the delicate piece. “C’est joli. It’s so meaningful to know the story that goes with it.”

  Katherine was quiet for a moment. “Would you like to read her letter? I have it set aside because I’m going to give it to Andrew to keep. I never want to read it again. It’s just too painful. But maybe you should.”

  Philippe hugged her. “Absoluement. That’s an important part of your family history. You have been immersed in mine: the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

  Katherine went to get the binder that held the letter and arrived back with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew as well. Philippe poured them each a glass and he began to read as Katherine rested her head on his shoulder. She shut her eyes and let the smooth strains of the music envelop her.

  Philippe closed the binder when he finished reading. He leaned his head against the sofa, took Katherine’s hand in his, and said nothing. They sat that way for some time.

  He wiped his eyes. His voice was subdued when he spoke. “There are no words, Kat . . . no words. But I thank you for letting me read that. It explains a vital part of who your parents were. We need to know those stories. I’m glad you shared it with me.”

  “While you were reading that, I was remembering when we drove with Mirella to Céreste. The stories that day were powerful.”

  “Oui. That was a most special day. There are so many tales to be told.”

  “That’s the thing,” Katherine said. “To me, that’s a major difference between life in Europe and North America. Those stories captivate me. The history lives on.”

  They sipped the wine as they talked about their childhoods and families and the experiences that had helped shape them. Their histories and personal journeys had taken them down such dissimilar paths. It was a conversation different from any they had shared before, and it felt like a new depth in their connection to each other.

  “Kat, this is all so meaningful: the music, the memories you’re sharing with me . . .”

  He had been sitting with his arm around her, but Philippe moved and made some space between them. His face grew serious and his eyes became downcast as he turned to her.

  The puzzled expression on her face registered her confusion. “What’s wrong?”

  “The entire time we’ve been apart, I’ve been struggling with this, and now with you making our time here together so special—I’m concerned. You’ve been giving off some worrying vibes this past week.”

  Katherine’s breath caught. As she reached for him, Philippe stood, increasing his distance from her. As though on instinct, her fingers rubbed her bracelet.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Kat broke the silence that settled between them. “You’re right. I’ve been struggling with myself . . .”

  Philippe interrupted, “Before you go any further, I have something I need to say. Something that has come back to haunt me since we’ve been apart.”

  Pacing, he took a while to speak again.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  Katherine sat stunned, with no idea where this was going. She thought she was the one with a problem. Did it have something to do with Anyu’s letter? With the evil Idelle and Dimitri, who had turned life upside down for Kat and Philippe last year? What was he talking about?

  Philippe moved to the fireplace and added another log, poking the embers to revive the flames. Then he turned to face her. “Where to begin? I can’t stop thinking how sorry I am for everything I put you through last autumn. I’m sorry for putting you in danger. I’m sorry for not being honest right from the beginning. I know how important honesty is to you.”

  “Where is this coming from? We were well past all of that mess before Christmas. We had an amazing time during the holidays. I thought we’d come to terms with all that adversity.”

  “I thought so too, but having time on my own to think about what happened made me worry that everything was at risk. On my own, I couldn’t stop thinking about how lost I would be without you. I’ve never had this kind of closeness, such intimacy and openness, with anyone.”

  Still sitting, Katherine replied, “I would say the same thing. You know that. You have helped me become so much more than I was before. You’ve taught me to love with a passion I never knew I had. We’re giving each other a second chance at happiness.”

  Philippe nodded slowly. His shoulders slumped. Katherine had seen him look this dejected only once before, when Dimitri was threatening them and he had feared for her safety.

  Katherine got up and put her arms around him. “I love you, Philippe. Make no mistake about that. I know, without question, that I only want to be with you.”

  His voice was quiet now. “The more I learn about your life here, the more I realize how much you’re leaving behind to make your life with me in France. I hope you still feel it’s what you want. I’m sensing hesitation that wasn’t between us before.”

  “You’re right. Being here has made very clear what I’m leaving behind. I thought I would be fine with it. In many ways, I can’t wait to get back to Antibes and my life with you. Every day, on the one hand, I feel more strongly about that, about starting over. I’ll take wonderful memories from here with me and keep them forever. The bad ones I will leave behind. But on the other hand, I realize I need to know that I’m doing this for the right reason.”

  “And that is . . . ? Isn’t the love we share the right reason?”

  Kat knew what she wanted to say, but she floundered and said nothing.

  Surprised by her silence, Philippe looked at her with disbelief. “Are you questioning our commitment to each other?”

  The moment was difficult. Katherine could tell Philippe was hurting. She was too. This was harder than she imagined it would be. Her palms became clammy and her stomach twisted into a knot. She knew the moment had come.

  Philippe sat beside her and took her hand. “Kat. Dis-moi. Whatever is causing you this distress needs to be shared with me. We’re not kids. We can deal with this.”

  She began to speak, her heart pounding. “Being back here on my own was much more of a shock than I anticipated. Because it happened so unexpectedly, at first I really didn’t think of anything except Molly. As I spent more time at the house and around the city, though, my sense of home came flooding back, and I was filled with all sorts of anxieties about moving to France for good, about making my home there.”

  Philippe listened intently, without making a sound. His expression was strained.

  Katherine had found her rhythm. She continued, “I’ve been trying to make sense of what is confusing me. I think I have. This isn’t about you and me. I’m in love with you, without question. I believe in what we have together. I just need to know that I’m not going to be wholly dependent on our love in order for me to be happy making my life in a foreign country. I need to know that France can be my home because I want it to be. Does that make any sense?”

  Philippe blew out a long breath. Still he said nothing as he studied Katherine’s face.

  Her heart was beating even harder and she clenched and unclenched her hands. She wondered if he would understand or if he would feel she was diminishing their relationship. Nervously, she repeated, “Does it? Does it make any
sense to you?”

  At length he spoke. “Yes, it does. I’m just relieved that this is not about us. Je t’entends. I hear you, Minou. Tell me everything you are feeling.”

  Kat nodded. “I’m sad to be leaving all that is familiar to me and has been for my entire life. That hadn’t truly registered with me until I came back. I’m afraid that I will be leaning on you entirely for my happiness.”

  “How can I help you? You can lean on me as much as you want or need to.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to feel I need to lean on you. Maybe I need more time here to work through this.”

  Philippe’s silence worried Kat, and she had a flash of regret at spoiling things. She hoped he could understand her feelings and separate the issues of her love for him and her leaving her country.

  The last record had finished playing. The odd crackle from the fire was all that cut through the stillness.

  Philippe had been staring into the fire and now turned his head back to Kat, speaking softly. “You take as much time as you feel you need. I will be waiting. I want you to come home with me when you are ready.”

  “Thank you,” Kat whispered, looking down awkwardly and feeling unsettled.

  “Alors,” Philippe said, standing. “Let’s go for a walk. Fresh air always helps, even if it’s as cold as it is in this city of yours. Allons-y!”

  They put on their layers and walked through the quiet streets, hand in hand, saying little. At one point, Katherine told him, “Nick says I have a classic case of cold feet, and he wasn’t referring to the weather.”

  “Pieds froids?”

  “Yeah, cold feet. It means I’m afraid to stick to my decision, that I’m uncertain and fearful.”

  “Ah! Tu as des doutes! You aren’t sure about what you are doing.”

  “I think he may be right.”

  Philippe nodded but said nothing more. They continued to walk in silence, except for the crunching of their footsteps on the snow, each lost in thought.