“I don’t know how it will all work out, Titine, but you have to trust that it will. The alternative is that you give your child to your parents, they raise her, and someday, when you are ready to have kids, you’ll have this child out there who doesn’t know you, who thinks you don’t love her. I know you, Titine. And I know you will regret it.”
A tear streamed down her cheek as she squeezed my hand. “Thank you, Ruby. Thank you for being there for me. I’m so sorry about what I said to you earlier. What happened to Robert is not your fault. And I had no right to say those things to you. You’re my best friend. You’re my family. I wouldn’t be who I am without you.”
I took Titine’s other hand in mine, feeling our pulses beating in tune yet again, and I smiled at her. “You’re my best friend too, Titine. And you always will be. You’ll get through all of this. I promise you, you’ll be okay.”
Titine’s eyelids began to droop, and I noticed the fatigue, the weariness settling into the tiny lines around her eyes.
“You should get some rest,” I said, wiping one last tear from her cheek.
But before her eyelids closed, she turned to me, her voice barely a whisper. “If the police come to talk to you again, remember, don’t mention Thomas Riley’s name.”
She drifted off to sleep, leaving me to wonder what exactly I didn’t know about Thomas yet, and why I shouldn’t have mentioned his name to the police.
I needed to talk all of this through with Antoine. Of anyone in this life, I knew that he would help me.
As I stood to leave, I noticed my red journal protruding out of the top of my purse. I remembered the way the pages had been fading right in front of my eyes. After the conversation I’d just had with Titine, I needed to see if my future life was still disappearing.
I sat back down and opened the worn, old book.
Goose bumps prickled my arms as I found that every single entry had faded away to almost nothing. I flipped to the page I’d read only a day earlier—the entry about my mother and my grandmother—but when I reached the spot in the journal where I was certain it had been, I only found a blank page. My words had vanished completely.
I clutched the scarlet binding, hoping against all hope that the disappearance of my words on the page meant that I was changing the future—for the better. But when I flipped another page, my hope vanished.
Because there, staring back at me, was my faded sonogram photo, the black-and-white specs almost completely gone, the date at the bottom erased.
Fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks, I emerged from Titine’s hospital room and spotted Antoine waiting for me in his long white coat, just as he’d said he would be.
He paid no attention to the nurses swirling around us in the hallway and instead wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. I buried my face in his chest, willing myself to pull it together, to keep the truth inside, even though I so desperately wanted to tell Antoine everything. Tell him who I really was. That in my other life I was pregnant.
And that I had to find a way back or I would lose my baby. I was losing her already.
“Come, Ruby. I’ll take you back to my office.” Antoine took my hand in his, our fingers intertwined in a perfect fit as I followed him through the hospital back to the labor and delivery wing.
Inside Antoine’s dark, cozy office, he leaned against the desk and pulled me close, tucking a wavy strand of blonde hair behind my ear.
“Where were you today, Ruby? I came back to your apartment, I searched the club, but no one knew where you had gone.”
I blinked, trying to avoid Antoine’s gaze, but I couldn’t. He was so honest, so caring, and I hated lying to him. But what was I supposed to tell him?
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I…I had a few things I needed to take care of, and I thought I would be back in time, but it took longer than I expected.”
Antoine brushed his fingers up and down my arms, his touch sending tingles throughout my entire body. “It is not safe for you to be out alone, especially after what just happened to Robert Maxwell.” Antoine cupped my face in his hands, then leaned down and kissed me tenderly on the lips. “I can’t let anything happen to you. I won’t.”
I let my body relax into the safety of his kiss, my tense muscles softening at his touch.
And as he pressed his lips a little harder into mine, his hands roaming down to the curves of my waist, I felt the fear, the exhaustion, and the confusion that had been consuming me these past few days melt away. And in their place came an intense desire, an overwhelming urge to be with Antoine again, to feel his body against mine. Because in his arms, I felt safe. In his arms, I could forget about my worries for the future.
I pulled my lips from his and whispered in his ear, “Make love to me.”
Antoine raised an eyebrow, and normally I would’ve raised an eyebrow at me too. In my life as Claudia, I would’ve never dreamed of making love to someone inside an office with people milling around just outside the door, especially when smack in the middle of figuring out some insane past-life murder crisis.
But I felt different now. I wasn’t only Claudia anymore. I was bolder, more daring, more confident—more like Ruby.
“Right now,” I breathed into his ear before brushing my lips across his flushed cheek and squeezing his shoulders in my palms.
I didn’t have to ask twice.
Antoine pulled me closer to him as he ran his lips down my neck and sent his hands roaming up under my shirt. Then he sat me down on the desk in front of him, and while I slipped off his white coat and unbuttoned his red collared shirt, I wrapped my legs around his body and felt his firm groin press into me. He slipped my sweater over my head then cupped my breasts in his strong hands before unhooking my bra and pushing his heaving body against my bare chest.
I reached down and unhooked his belt, wanting him, needing him inside of me. His pants fell to his ankles, followed by his underwear, as I admired his lean, firm body, the cuts of muscle in his stomach and arms so defined, so unbearably sexy I could hardly stand it.
As a low moan escaped from his lips, he pulled my pants and lacy pink-and-white panties off in one quick swoop, squared his face in front of mine, and with eyes full of lust, need, and love, he wrapped his arms around my bare waist, then thrust deep inside of me. I gripped the side of the desk as Antoine pushed deeper and deeper into me, both his body and his passion so strong, I could hardly take in another breath.
He ran his tongue down my neck and over the tops of my breasts before gently grazing my nipples, his hands making their way to my inner thighs, and finally massaging me while he continued to thrust farther inside. My entire body pulsated with pleasure as I grabbed on to his shoulders and tipped my head back, letting him take me, letting this new love that somehow felt timeless and more pure than anything I’d ever felt before engulf me and erase all of my doubts or worries about what might happen when this perfect moment was over.
Because in that moment, the future didn’t exist. There was only me and Antoine, and all I needed in this world, in this life, was his love.
He laid me down on the desk, his lean body fitting perfectly on top of mine, and sent neat stacks of papers and yellow file folders flying to the ground. I let out a moan of pure ecstasy as I wrapped my legs around Antoine’s back and felt him press into me once more. He went so deep this time, I could barely see straight. Then, as his hips rocked with mine, our bodies shaking the desk, making it pound into the floor, he sped up and I felt him growing harder and firmer inside of me.
His hand cupped my breast, his fingers running back and forth over my sensitive nipple as his other hand pushed down in between my thighs and caressed that even more sensitive area. He continued to press into me in firm, even strokes that became harder and faster while his lips roamed over my neck, breasts, and shoulders until finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt the desire rising in my chest and shooting down in between my thighs before I let out a muffled cry, an explos
ion setting off inside of me.
Antoine wasn’t far behind. He lifted his face to mine and kissed me on the lips as his body tensed up, then released while he throbbed and pulsated inside of me, his ultimate pleasure, his climax reached.
He collapsed on top of me, his breath rough and heavy in my ear, our naked bodies still connected in the most perfect way. And in that moment, as I listened to Antoine’s heart beating, his chest pulsing into mine, I knew without a doubt that I loved this man. Nothing about these last few days had made as much sense as me being here with Antoine.
He propped himself up on his elbows and gazed down at me with a sweet, inquisitive look in his eyes. “Do you believe in fate, Ruby?”
Fate. There was that infamous word again. “I…I’m not sure. I’m beginning to think I do. What about you?”
“I never believed in fate before. I did not believe in much of anything after I lost my parents. But now, even though I have lost Gisèle, I am realizing that this strange course of events has led me to you. And, Ruby, I do not know what has gotten into me, but I feel as if I’ve known you forever. I feel like I was meant to be with you, to spend my life with you. I’ve never felt this way before. Not even close. And if it is fate that has brought me to you, then yes, I believe in it.”
Antoine’s words momentarily erased all of the angst I’d been carrying around since I’d arrived in this life, and especially since this morning’s grueling string of events. I stared deep into his smoky-gray eyes, never wanting to leave his side, never wanting to have another moment without his face in front of mine, his warm hands on my skin.
“I’ve never felt this way either, Antoine. And I can’t explain it, but I know it’s right. In fact, it’s the only thing in this life that feels right to me.”
Antoine leaned down, kissing me softly on the lips. “I’m falling in love with you, Ruby. I’m falling head over heels in love with you.”
I smiled, feeling as though nothing in the world could be more perfect, more fulfilling than this feeling. “I love you too, Antoine.”
He brushed a strand of hair off my cheek and smiled. “Fate brought us together. And I won’t let anything take you from me. I promise.”
As I melted into the sincerity of his words, I refused to acknowledge the voice in the back of my head reminding me that my time here was limited. And I rejected the doubt that had lodged itself in my chest like an ax in a tree trunk.
The love I felt for Antoine was an entity all unto its own—something I’d never known I was capable of feeling. So even with the fear that at any moment I could be ripped away from him and sent back to my future life, I had to trust that a love this strong could survive anything.
Because no matter what awaited me, I knew I wasn’t willing to lose Antoine.
But then, I wasn’t willing to lose my baby either.
If only I could have them both.
TWENTY-NINE
Once we’d dressed and caught our breath, we sat together at the desk, trying to piece together the confusing events of the past few days.
“Let’s start with the most recent incident. How did you find out about Robert Maxwell’s murder?” Antoine asked.
“Detective Duval came to my apartment to question me. I was the last one seen with Robert last night outside the club, so now I’m a suspect. But they found Robert’s body on the quai of the Seine early this morning, with a bullet wound to his chest.”
“Which means someone killed him late last night, while you were with me,” Antoine said.
“Yes, and I’m afraid that whoever did it also may have had something to do with François’s murder…and possibly with Gisèle’s. And they’re trying to frame me for all three.”
Suddenly I remembered the note I’d received when I’d first arrived here. The one telling me not to talk to A. “There’s something else I forgot to show you.” I riffled through my purse to find the square piece of paper I’d stuffed inside earlier.
“Ruby, did you tell the detective that you were with me last night? That you have an alibi?”
I stopped my search for a moment to face Antoine. “Yes, I did. I’m sure they’ll want to question you about it later today. But they’ll probably be suspicious of anything you say too—” I stopped talking because the color had drained from Antoine’s face.
“Antoine, what is it?”
He shook his head, forced himself to take in a breath. “It’s…it’s nothing, Ruby. What were you going to show me?”
I found the small, creepy note inside my purse and handed it to Antoine. “After I fell the other morning, I came back up to my apartment to lie down. This was underneath my pillow. I’m not sure what it means or who it’s from, but I’m assuming whoever it was didn’t want me talking to you.”
I wished I could tell Antoine that the handwriting on this note matched the handwriting from the scary past-life journal entry I’d found earlier today, but this would have to do for now.
“I was thinking maybe you could pass this along to the private investigator you’re working—” I started, but Antoine’s startled expression stopped me cold.
“You said this was underneath your pillow? Are you certain?” Antoine said, his intense gaze not leaving the loopy handwriting on the page.
“Yes, I’m certain. Do you know who wrote it? Based on everything that’s happened so far, and by the initials on the note, I think it could be from Thomas, but it’s hard to make them out.”
Antoine rubbed his forehead, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath.
“What is it, Antoine? What’s going on?”
He stood from the desk, tucking the note into his pocket. Then he leaned down and grabbed my shoulders, his expression deadpanning into mine. “Lock the door behind me, and promise me you will not leave this room, Ruby. You are not safe anywhere else.”
“Of course, but where are you going? Tell me what’s going on.”
Antoine kissed me on the forehead then headed toward the door. “I’ll explain everything soon. But there isn’t time right now. You must promise me you won’t leave, Ruby. Promise me.”
“I promise,” I said breathlessly.
And with a whip of the door, he was gone, leaving me alone in his office wondering what he’d seen in that note that had spooked him so badly.
The clock ticking above Antoine’s desk told me he’d only been gone for five minutes, but it felt like an eternity. What was going on? What wasn’t he telling me?
With shaky legs, I stood from my seat at the desk and began cleaning up all of the papers we’d knocked to the floor just moments earlier. I couldn’t just sit here and wait patiently. Not with the way he’d run out of here like a bat out of hell after he’d seen that note. And why had he acted strangely about me telling the police he’d been with me the night before?
Bending down to gather the last stack of files from the floor, I was just about to stand up when something caught my eye. Half of a black-and-white photograph stuck out of Antoine’s top drawer, its corner bent and smashed into the desk. I stole a quick glance at the door, but with no sign of Antoine, curiosity overpowered my nerves.
After retrieving the old picture from the drawer, I tilted it toward the lamp to get a better look.
But the scene staring back at me made my stomach curl.
Antoine stood at the altar of a church, wearing a spiffy tux and a gleam in his eye. His arm was wrapped tightly around a petite woman whose long black hair cascaded in waves down the back of her sparkling white gown.
A bride. A wedding.
Oh, God.
Antoine is married.
I blinked away the tears that sprang to my eyes without warning, but gasped when I noticed something else in the photograph. Something that made this inconceivable situation even worse than it already was.
Amid the woman’s Medusa-like black locks, strings of diamonds dangled from her ears.
I closed my eyes and felt myself immediately being transported back to the night I�
��d found Gisèle.
I could see her now. The silhouette of the woman outside the club. That long, dangling diamond that sparkled underneath the dim light of the streetlamp.
Except she wasn’t a silhouette any longer.
It was her. The same woman in the photo.
Antoine’s wife.
In a frantic haze, I riffled through the rest of Antoine’s desk drawer, telling myself that this couldn’t be true. Antoine couldn’t really be married. He’d taken me to his apartment, and there’d been no sign of another woman, no sign of a wife. Surely he would have an explanation for the photograph. But what could possibly explain this woman’s presence at the club the night of Gisèle’s death? And her earring at the scene of François’s murder?
When my search yielded a silver wedding band hiding in the back of the drawer, I pounded my fists on the desk in frustration.
How could he have done this to me? Were the two of them in on this together? Framing me for all of these murders? What in the hell was going on? How could I have been so stupid to fall for him?
Gathering every ounce of courage I had left in me, I placed the ring on the desk where Antoine would see it when he returned, tucked the sickening photograph of him and his wife into my purse, and ran out of his office.
I didn’t care that I’d promised him I wouldn’t leave.
After all, his promises clearly hadn’t meant a thing.
Rain poured from the sky in sheets as I exited the hospital, my entire world turned upside down once again. The fat raindrops running down my face were the only tears I could cry at the moment.
Antoine, the only person who’d made me feel safe in this godforsaken life, had betrayed me. My baby was disappearing by the minute. I was wanted for three murders. And Titine was passed out in a hospital bed.
My numb legs carried me down the sidewalk, toward the wet, busy Parisian street. Where would I go? Who could help me now?
When the rain had sufficiently soaked through my clothes and I began to shiver so hard I could barely feel my hands, I spotted a black taxicab coming to a stop just ahead. Running to catch up with it, I yanked open the door and slid into the backseat, my wet clothes squeaking against the cool leather.
Dancing with Paris (A Paris Time Travel Romance) Page 23