Lost In France (Firebird Trilogy)

by Kay, Jani

  “Mel is fine,” he replied. “She is holding on—recovering well after her last chemo. All clear for now. But we never know for how long till the cancer strikes again. She’s visiting her sister for a while, to get away and regain her strength. That’s when I saw the chance to come and find you.”

  “Poor Melanie,” I said, genuinely feeling sorry for her. It couldn’t be easy having cancer, trying to make a life when you didn’t know how much time you had left.

  “I know, Mel has it tough,” he said, “but my life has been hell without you there. It was more bearable when I had you to lean on, to support me. I miss you.” The sadness had crept back into his voice.

  He took a step closer, his eyes clouded. His familiar scent twisted my insides into a knot. Julian reached for me and I automatically stepped into his arms. I was more a creature of habit than I ever realized. Holding me tightly, he inhaled deeply.

  “Sweet Jesus. It’s so good to hold you, to feel you against me, to inhale your familiar scent,” he said, his voice breaking.

  Paralyzed, I stood in his embrace, trying to figure out how I felt after all this time. My palms were clammy, my heart racing at being so close to him.

  “Come home to me. Please,” he pleaded. “Life is not worth living if you aren’t in it.”

  I stiffened. “You know I can’t,” I said softly. “She needs you now more than ever. I will always be your friend, but that’s all.”

  Julian shoved his hand into his blond hair. “Friend? Did you say friend?” he asked incredulously. “We love one another, Becca. Remember? Ever since high school. I’ve never stopped loving you. Not even for a moment. I want you back in my life. I’ve come to take you home with me.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You’re forgetting a few things, Julian. You are married to Melanie.”

  “Melanie is stronger now. I want to tell her it’s over. She has always known it’s you I love. If it wasn’t for that one fucking night—” He squeezed his eyes closed. I understood his pain. It became my pain too.

  I rubbed at the ache in my heart. “I know. But that night happened and it can never be undone. You know that. And you can’t leave while she has cancer. It’s just wrong. And I don’t want to be a part of that.”

  Julian gripped my shoulders. “No. Listen, Becca. Mel and I have spoken about it. She understands. I think she will even be happy for us, knowing I’ll have you when she is gone.”

  I inhaled a shaky breath. “Julian. How can you talk like this? Melanie adores you. You will break her heart and her spirit. She may still be alive for a number of years, especially if the new drug works. You have to be strong and be there for her. She needs you.”

  “But, I need you. There’s not a minute that goes by that I don’t yearn for you. To touch you, to be with you. Don’t be so goddamn stubborn. Say you will come back with me.” His eyes were pleading.

  “I…I can’t,” I stammered, “I have a new life now. And, a work contract. I can’t be with you while Melanie still needs you…”

  “What about my needs? Don’t they count for anything? How can you be so hard on me? Baby, I need you, don’t you see that?” He grabbed both my hands and squeezed them.

  “No, Julian. You think you need me, but you’ll be just fine. Melanie is a good wife, she deserves your loyalty. She needs you to be there for her.” I gazed into his eyes, unwavering. “You have to go back to her.”

  Julian sucked in a breath. He slowly shook his head as if he didn’t want to hear what I’d just said. “You can’t mean that. It’s no good trying to pretend. You know I fucking love you.” His mouth came down on mine, gently at first, then more insistently. He held me as if he would never let me go again. The familiar feel of him melted my heart; his soft lips and gentle touch, sensations that I had yearned for.

  Realizing that we were a spectacle standing in the hallway like this, I pulled away and quickly swiped the card to gain access to my hotel room and let Julian in. Wearily, I placed my jacket over the back of the chair as I walked to the bar fridge to get us each a drink.

  This was fucking with my mind. I needed a drink. I poured two little bottles of Jack into a glass and threw it back in one gulp. It burned down my throat. I needed more.

  Julian grabbed around my waist and pulled me to him. I pushed my palms against his chest and took a few steps backward. I didn’t want to be so close to him. My mind was reeling. First Alain and now this. I couldn’t fucking think straight.

  Why were all the men in my life making it unbearable? I wanted to scream!

  Alain screwing Adrienne. Julian professing his love and wanting me to go back to Australia with him. Maxwell the chameleon. My head hurt. I felt sick to the stomach.

  I don’t want to deal with all this shit.

  “Baby, stop this madness. It’s time we started a real life together. If anything, you leaving has shown me just how much I need you. You’ve always been my rock.”

  The way he said baby, in the familiar Julian way with just a little lisp—the way I’d heard him say it a thousand times before, cracked me.

  I almost shouted. “I know. But now it’s my turn…I need someone to be my rock.”

  Screw that. I needed someone to take care of me. I was sick of always giving and getting nothing in return.

  “It’s time I stepped up to the plate, baby. It’s time I took care of you.” His voice was soft, almost pleading.

  He closed the distance between us and pulled me to his chest. All the familiar longing overwhelmed my senses. A part of me wanted to just surrender to him, to let him sweep me up and take me home. I knew how much he loved me. It wasn’t his fault fate dealt us an unfair hand.

  He kissed me hungrily. I let him. I had to know how I felt after being away from him for all these weeks. His tongue invaded the silkiness of my mouth. The sweet familiar taste of Julian—the taste that still tormented my soul—made my knees go weak.

  Julian had always been a gentle lover, but tonight his passion was raging, his need for me overwhelming us both. He lifted me roughly and carried me to the bed, his intentions clear.

  “Baby. I need to fuck you. It’s been too long.” His mouth claimed mine once more as laid me down, his weight heavy on top of me. I stared up at him, hopeless to resist. This had been the stuff of my dreams since forever. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me—maybe this was just another of those vivid dreams.

  I watched in stunned silence, as he pulled his navy polo shirt over his head. His beautiful golden chest heaved from his shallow breathing.

  Julian crawled over the bed toward me like a lion catching his prey. Folding me into his arms, he pressed me into his chest. Kisses rained on my face, tears spilling from his eyes as he repeated my name over and over. I was spellbound.

  His hands slipped to my hips, pushing my skirt up high, his fingers digging into the flesh on my thighs. How I had dreamed of Julian, of his lithe athletic body, of him inside me, making love to me, possessing every part of me.

  “Julian, no. We…can’t. I won’t.”

  A look of disbelief crossed his face. He shook his head, as if trying to figure out if he heard correctly. I’d never denied Julian before.

  “Baby. I want you—now and forever…I fucking love you.” The way he called me baby had always been my weakness. But not now. I found an inner strength.

  “No. Melanie.” The words rasped from my dry mouth.

  “Melanie? Are you fucking kidding me? It’s because of her—” I watched as a vein ticked in his jaw. Her name was more than a safe word. She was the barrier between us. Ever since that night.

  He sat back, his hands in his hair. Indescribable pain radiated from his hazel eyes. “Fuck Melanie.” It was the first time he’d ever spoken of her like that.

  Trembling, I pulled my knees up to my chin, hugging myself, biting my bottom lip till I tasted blood.

  I have to stay strong.

  He turned to sit on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, his eyes closed.


  “I’ve fucked up big time, haven’t I?” The despair in his voice was palpable. “You’re never coming back to me, are you?”

  “No, Julian. I'm not coming back. As long as Melanie is alive, I can’t. Ever. You made a choice that night. I know it was a mistake. But it’s changed our path forever.”

  He let out a row of expletives, tumbling from his lips as if they’d cure his raw pain.

  “You’ve got to go home, Julian. It’s over between us. I mean it.”

  “Who is he? Who is the guy you’re fucking, Rebecca?” he roared. He only ever called me Rebecca when he was angry.

  “N…nobody,” I said. It was true, I’d left Alain.

  “Didn’t lie to me, Becca. Please, not to me…”

  I cast my eyes down. I couldn’t bear to see the hurt in his. “I met a guy…” I whispered, “But, he doesn’t want me.” My voice was hardly audible as I spilled the truth.

  “I could kill him,” Julian roared. “The fool.”

  Alain said the same about you, Julian. And here I was— with neither of you.

  I curled into a ball. Wanting to die.

  In France.

  Lost.

  Chapter 51

  The two weeks that followed were torture. Being lost and alone was not fun. I kept on second guessing my decision to send Julian home. After all, he’d come all this way to see me, to fetch me home.

  It was what I’d secretly hoped for when I left, right?

  I’d loved Julian since high school; it would have been my dream come true to finally be with him. But during our first year at university the dream got fucked up.

  Melanie happened.

  One drunken night with her happened.

  Their baby happened.

  A new precious and innocent life that deserved more.

  Irreversible.

  Julian and I—fucked up forever.

  He wanted to start over. He loved me. I knew that. Because I had always loved him too.

  But what about his promises to Melanie?

  In sickness and in health.

  I couldn’t live with myself if I allowed him to leave her and she died because of heartbreak. Not with the cancer. I also knew that Melanie loved Julian; her love would keep them going to the end.

  Her end.

  My heart squeezed. I rubbed at the pain. Even after all this time, it hurt like hell.

  Although I had humiliated him, turned him down and sent him away, I knew Julian would honor his promises to me. And I didn’t hate Melanie in spite of her ruining my dreams.

  Dreams of being with Julian.

  Julian. I was glad that I’d stopped him, I didn’t want more guilt racking my mind. I’d found an inner strength I’d never had before.

  I’d moved hotels. Using the excuse that I wanted to be closer to the university so I could do research in the evenings, I had convinced Maxwell’s secretary to find a room in a smaller and homelier hotel for me. Cheaper rates too. It didn’t have the spectacular views of the grand suite I had been staying in till now, yet I was more at ease in my new surroundings. It was within walking distance to cafes and bars frequented by students and I’d hoped I could make a few new friends too.

  But mainly I’d moved because I wanted to disappear. I didn’t want Alain to find me. I’d been screwed over again. My heart was bleeding, my soul crushed. I needed time to lick my wounds and heal.

  I would bounce back. Eventually. I always did. It just became harder with every setback. But I’d get through this and come out the other side stronger.

  And as always, I would focus on my career. At least it was one constant in my life. Something I loved and that rewarded me handsomely. Thank God.

  Rebecca Clarke did not give up on life, nor her dreams.

  Back to tossing and turning in my bed at night, dreams of Alain and Julian twisted my mind so that I woke up frazzled in the mornings. I needed another break; I couldn’t keep up with the men in my life. They all wanted to fuck me. I got that.

  Yet nothing was forever.

  How did I get into these fucking complicated relationships? Would there ever be a happy ever after for me?

  Fortunately, the workshops finished next week. I dragged myself down to the hotel’s breakfast room. Although I had no appetite, I had to get something into my body. My once tight skirts were hanging loose on my frame.

  I stared out over the river. It was a beautiful Saturday morning. I was exploring Paris by myself. My heart ached when I thought of Alain, my sexy tour guide. He’d shown me most of Paris, yet I hadn’t been to the Louvre.

  It was time I paid it a visit.

  Chapter 52 - Alain

  I was desperate. Rebecca had booked out of the hotel she’d been staying at. My secretary had rung every hotel, every pension in Paris in search of Rebecca. So far my search had been futile.

  How would I find her, explain what happened? I had to convince her that what she saw was not as it seemed.

  Damn Adrienne and her family. In a rage, I’d sent her and her father to hell. One way. I didn’t want to do business with them. I didn’t want to partner with them in any deal, no matter how lucrative.

  I’d run out of ideas on how to find Rebecca. Other than to ring Grant personally. That was the last fucking thing I wanted to do. I didn’t want to give Grant the fucking pleasure, so I resolved to give it one last shot the coming weekend. If nothing else worked, well, I’d have to call the arrogant fucker. I’d already tried to contact some of Rebecca’s co-workers. They had refused to help me out.

  Had she instructed them not to?

  My plan for the day had been to go to the Louvre. Last weekend, I’d had Gaston drive around all the touristy spots in Paris, hoping to find her amongst the crowds. Like every day before it was useless. Frustrating. Unrewarding.

  It was turning into a nightmare.

  Rebecca was stubborn. A true fiery redhead. My cock yearned for her whenever I thought of running my fingers through her luscious mane. And my fucking heart? It was shattered.

  Fuck. Would I ever win her back?

  I could kick myself for not telling her how I felt about her. My fear of losing her far outweighed my pride. I should have told her how much she meant to me. How much I wanted her in my life.

  Yes, how much I loved her.

  Panic gripped my heart. It was as if the oxygen was sucked from my lungs.

  What if she’d changed her phone number? If only she’d take my goddamn calls. Her message bank was full. I ran a hand through my hair. Fuck if I’d give up that easily.

  Once I had my heart and mind set on something, I’d fight to the end to get it.

  I want Rebecca. My Cherie.

  Gaston circled the Louvre for the fifth time. I sighed in despair. This fucking plan wasn’t working. Mon Dieu. I took another swig from the cognac bottle. It was early for a drink, but I needed a stiff one. Paris was stifling hot, and I was equally hot in my seething desperation to find her.

  Gaston laughed out loud. “Look, monsieur, look.”

  My gaze followed to where he pointed. What could make Gaston laugh? Did he have sunstroke? There was nothing funny about this goddamn situation. Then I saw a redhead alight from the open-top tourist bus. My heart tore through my chest. It was Rebecca.

  Fuck. She was even more beautiful than I’d remembered. Her hair, caught in a ponytail in an attempt to keep cool, made her look younger and more vulnerable, too.

  Exposed by the ridiculous denim shorts she wore, her long legs were sexy as hell. I swallowed hard. The skin on her shoulders glistened in the sun and her breasts bounced slightly as she made her way to the queue. Hard just by the sight of her, I adjusted my cock and smiled.

  But, talking to her wasn’t going to be easy. I’d have to surprise her, preferably in a place where she couldn’t run away. I knew exactly where she was headed.

  Chapter 53

  I took a sip from my water bottle. Damn, it was hot. Standing in the long queues made me appreciate how Alain had just whizzed u
s past the red tape before. I’d just have to get it the same way every other tourist did. I missed him. I wished he were there to share his knowledge of the Louvre with me.

  I was there to see three things. First up, the glass pyramid, a famous icon of Paris, which I glimpsed from the top deck of the bus. The other two were inside, so I paid for a ticket and made my way in.

  Signposts marked the way to the Mona Lisa, so I followed the crowds through the halls. Hundreds of people thronged around me to see the small heavily framed picture which was protected by thick glass. The painting was so much smaller than I expected, it was a bit of a disappointment and not nearly as grand as I’d always imagined it to be.

  Leisurely roaming around the cavernous rooms, glancing at rows and rows of artworks on the walls, I made my way to the Venus de Milo, the goddess shrouded in mystery whose arms had never been found. Intrigued, I wanted to see her. I admired her sensual feminine curves which were only half covered by a draping cloth around her hips.

  I walked into the large cool space and switched on the little camera Alain had given me, a pang going through my heart as I took a picture of the beautiful statue. In a heavy French accent, a recognizable man’s voice floated to me.