Summer Of My Secret Angel
Page 13
Ugh. After what had just happened? I wasn’t sure.
I shrugged one shoulder.
“If your mother was already dead, and Marie had offered to bring you to her home, would you have come?”
Of course was the answer I should have shot at him that very instant. But for a very strange reason I couldn’t lie to him. Didn’t want to. After a few seconds of deliberating, I slowly said, “No.”
Julian nodded. “I thought so.”
Swallowing hard, I tucked my hair behind my ears, let my hands rest behind my neck, and dropped my head. One particular reason would have kept me from coming. I didn’t want to get attached to anyone again in my life. Ever.
That was why I’d had no boyfriend yet. Why I’d had no real friends in the orphanage. And why I refused to let Marie get any closer than she had already managed in the past couple days. I had to protect myself from being abandoned, which was going to happen in the end.
To get my attention again, Julian tugged softly at one leg of my jeans. “It doesn’t mean everyone will leave you just because your mother did.”
My head snapped up with the feeling of being read like an open book once again. “Yes, it does. If my own mother could do that to me, what stops a total stranger from doing the same?”
My furious tone didn’t affect his soft one. “You know, sometimes people are sorry for what they did and try to make up for it.”
A warning light went off in my head. This conversation was going downhill and fast. Anger boiled and threatened to spill out. “And you know, sometimes they just make the same damn mistake twice.”
A sad expression settled in Julian’s face. Yep, he knew what I was talking about.
My voice took on a sickly sweet note. “I believe my mother told you that she came to the orphanage once before, when I was already twelve years old.” I rolled my eyes. “Uttered incessant apologies. She promised to get me out of that hole in a few days when she’d arranged her new life.” I paused, took a furious breath. “How stupid of me to finally believe her. The pain only cut deeper when she didn’t show up a few days later as she’d promised. In fact, she didn’t show up for another five years.”
Until three days ago.
I feigned a smile. “She wouldn’t have kept that part of her past a secret from you when you’re so close, would she?”
“Maybe she had reasons not to come.”
Oh yes, he knew.
I folded my arms over my chest. “What kind of reasons could that be? And why had she forgotten to inform me?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?” A hint of innocence laced his voice, just enough to make me understand that he knew very well but wouldn’t betray my mother and give the reasons away before she had a chance to explain.
A laugh escaped me at his ridiculous words. “Yeah, right. As if I really wanted to know. She can tell her lies to the reaper when he comes for her at the end of her goddamned life.”
Julian’s lips thinned to a line, and I went silent. He always seemed so hurt when I slagged my mother. I didn’t want to hurt him. Not now. Not tonight.
A few minutes later, I cleared my throat and tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. “How long have you known Charlene?”
“A while.”
“Oh, that says a lot.” Behind closed lids, I rolled my eyes. “Was she already ill when you met her?”
Julian nodded. Of course, why would he know her before he started taking care of her?
A sudden curiosity kept me firing questions at him. “Does she pay you for your services?”
“I’m paid for the work I do for Albert in the vineyard.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
When Julian inclined his head to lock gazes with me, I could see that he chose his words very carefully. “I don’t get any money from your mother. But she’s paying a price to someone else. It’s a high price, too.”
“And that agency or whoever she’s paying sent you to take care of her?”
His soft chuckle warmed the atmosphere around us. “Sort of.”
Suddenly, Valentine’s angry hiss cut through the night. She was underneath the balcony and cussed in French. Julian didn’t bother to stifle a hearty laugh. He switched to the language that was all Greek to me when he replied to her.
When we heard her disappear down the path, I asked Julian, “What did she say?”
“She cursed the birds for pooping on her slippers and threatened to shoot them all with Henri’s old shotgun.”
The image of the teapot going berserk over a handful of birdies brought a grin to my face. “And what did you tell her?”
“To be careful not to shred the façade. The old, twisted gun backfires more often than it hits a target.”
The laugh we share freed me like nothing before. When he didn’t pester me about my mother, I actually really liked this man.
During the following half hour, Julian told me everything he knew about Valentine and Henri, how old they were, about their three grown up children who occasionally visited here, and what their main work in the vines was. But it was more the soothing sound of his voice that kept me intrigued than the actual information he gave me.
I studied his beautiful blue eyes as he spoke. The sight of his tongue whisking over his lips from time to time to wet them sent a shiver through my body. And I noticed how he would rub the back of his neck and stare into the distance when he tried to remember something in particular.
A yawn stretched my mouth. I tried to smother it in the crook of my arm.
Gentle fingers hooked strands of hair behind my ear. “Your day has been long enough. You better go to sleep now. I can tell you more about the people here tomorrow if you like.”
“No,” I said quickly. “Please, tell me now.”
The shine in Julian’s eyes seemed to intensify for a moment, then he continued.
Nothing could have stopped me from listening to him. Not even sleep as it crept over me. I still heard his mellow voice long after my eyes had closed, and my head rested heavily on my knees.
Half asleep, I barely noticed the strong arms that shoved under my bent legs and spine. As I was lifted from the floor, my head rolled to the side to rest on a comforting shoulder. My nose brushed against the warm skin of Julian’s throat, and I buried deeper into the crook, savoring his enchanting scent of fresh wind wafting along a shore.
My hand wandered up his chest and cupped his neck for better hold. The cropped hair at the back of his head tickled my palm. If sleep hadn’t captured me already, I would have started to explore the sensation and tangled my fingers in his soft tousled hair.
Holding on to him tight, I made him bend down with me when he lowered me onto my bed. His breath feathered against my face. I opened my eyes briefly. A smile that came mostly from his eyes bid me goodnight.
Please stay.
My knees dipped to one side as he let go of my legs. Gently, he removed my hands from his neck and placed them over my stomach. “Sleep tight, princess,” he whispered, brushing a wisp of hair from my forehead.
I blinked in slow motion, my cheek buried deeper into the soft pillow. Through a haze of sleep, I watched him turn away. His fingers swept over the clock on my nightstand. The hands on the clock spun madly.
“See you tomorrow,” he crooned before he slipped out through the curtains.
A REASON TO STAY
I STOOD NEXT to Julian on the balcony, the little chick with the button eyes comfortably nestled on his palms.
Julian flashed a toothpaste commercial grin at me. “Are you ready?”
I nodded and he crouched. With his next stretch, he pushed off the ground, levitating toward the roof. All the while, I saluted and sang “God save the Queen,” but the chirrups of the birds overhead overlapped my blaring. When I got to the part “long may she reign,” I jolted upright in my bed, wide awake.
The sound of my gasp echoed through the otherwise silent room. I pressed a sweaty palm to my
brow, trying to get a clear view.
“Crap, what a weird dream.”
Bright daylight floated in through the windows. I snapped my head right and left, trying to figure out why I woke in this room again and not on an airplane to London.
Then memories of a glorious time on the balcony popped into my mind. Warmth filled me as I recalled being enclosed in Julian’s arms. His scent still wafted all around me. A deep breath filled my head with a stunning sea breeze. Only when I wrapped my arms around me and my hands dug into soft cotton, did I realize the scent was coming from his hoodie that still shrouded me. I hadn’t returned it to him last night.
And I never will.
But how had I gotten into bed? And why hadn’t I taken off my jeans? The last thing I remembered clearly was his melodious laughter as he had told me of Valentine’s landing on her broad behind while she tried to uproot an ill plant the other day.
I raked a hand through my bed hair and brushed the bangs off my face. My fingers skimmed over my right temple—saluting? There had been something…in my dream.
Then I whined. Levitating. Julian had become airborne.
And you hailed the Queen, silly. Weird things happen in dreams. Get a grip.
My eyes narrowed at the balcony door. The dream seemed so real. Julian had crouched before he took off, just like yesterday evening when he wanted to set the bird back in its nest. He prepared to—
To what? To fly?
Be serious. He wasn’t a mutant, Superman, or anything like that. He was Julian, the ordinary guy next door. Lovely, but ordinary.
A sigh of frustration pushed through my nose as I dropped onto my pillow. A second later, the siren of an alarm clock blared next to me and gave me a jump-start out of bed. I beat the device with my flat hand. Three times, to make sure the blaring really stopped. With one hand clutched to my pounding heart, I sank into the swivel chair at my desk and let my head tilt over the backrest.
Boy, things were turning out really weird this morning. If I could judge the kind of day I was going to have by its beginning, I might do better to climb back into bed.
I snatched the clock from my nightstand to check why it had gone off in the morning when I had set it for—
“Midnight?”
My stomach dropped, my mouth sagged open. Both clock hands were aimed up.
A picture of Cogsworth, the living pendulum clock from Beauty and the Beast, sitting on my nightstand danced through my mind, the hands on his Disney face spinning madly. According to this overgrown pocket watch, it was twelve exactly.
I couldn’t make any sense of it.
A frown pulled my brows together and I cut a glance to the French door, as if the answer to my confusion lay just outside. But what was there to see, other than the familiar scenery of a few trees in the garden and five hectares of vine?
Julian.
At the moment, a lot of things didn’t make sense, but most of all him. Every time he came within an arm’s reach, jittery feelings swamped me. And this went far beyond the average crazy. There was something very not normal about the guy.
Since I’d already missed my flight home—again—I thought maybe I should delay the escape for a little longer and instead do some detective work. Considering the nice time I’d had with him the previous night, I supposed I could survive a few more days in this place. Maybe a week even. Of course, it would be my first priority to stay out of the dragon’s reach. But finding out more about Julian tempted me sorely. My stomach went all bloomy at the thought of spending a few more days around him.
From a drawer, I picked out a pencil and paper and started scribbling a list. After all, this was the first step Sherlock Holmes would take to resolve a case—take notes of anything unusual. It took only a couple of minutes to jot down everything weird about Julian.
There was the surreal happiness he infected me with every time he touched me. I stared at the wall in front of me for a moment. Was feeling happy so bad? No, no. Stay focused. I blinked and returned my attention to the list.
Next point was the revitalization of my mother when no one was watching—or when he thought no one was. The awkward incident last night, when he tried to see the world through my eyes and I almost turned into an aura-sucking vampire. And of course, his strange behavior when he put the chick back in its nest—the crouch before takeoff. Was there anything else?
Flying.
No, the dream was too weird to mention. Maybe the alarm clock? I pursed my lips. I could hardly blame it on him that the alarm went off at the wrong time. Grabbing the clock, I examined it from all sides. For the past five minutes, it had worked accurately; the minute hand was pointing at one.
Tapping the pencil against my pursed lips, I spun in the chair and thought of what else I could jot down about Julian. But a knock on the door made me jump right out of my seat. Rushed by panic, I shoved the list into the drawer and slammed it shut.
“Come on in!” My voice resonated with the awkward feeling of being caught.
Marie’s friendly eyes peeked into my room. “Oh good, you are up. I was concerned when you did not come down for breakfast this morning.”
“Yeah, sorry, I slept in. The alarm went a little crazy.” I shrugged and held the clock out to her. “It didn’t wake me at the right time.” Which should have been hours ago.
“Do not worry. It is Saturday, you are allowed to sleep in. Are we still on for a girls’ day out?”
Now that I had decided to stay for a little longer, the idea of spending a few hours with Marie alone appealed to me. It would be nice to get to know this friendly woman with her ever beaming face. Also it came to me that she had known Julian for a much longer time than I had, and she might come in handy on my expedition to discover his secret. The longer I thought about it, the more I believed he had one. So why not mix business with pleasure? Marie could at least answer some questions for me.
Step two of resolving a case: investigate.
A broad grin crept to my lips. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”
Marie stepped over the threshold, but didn’t let go of the door handle. “Would you like to go to town? I have to stock the fridge for next week and I could use some help. Afterward we could go shopping for you, have lunch together, or get ice cream.”
Shopping for me? Lady, I’ve got no money. And you don’t want to be seen with a criminal. But ice cream sounded fabulous. We had never gotten any in the orphanage, and to run off with a cone in one hand had actually been a very bad idea. After I’d lost the entire load on a spectacular escape through Hyde Park a couple of years ago, I’d refrained from repeating that silly act just for one sweet lick.
“I’ll get dressed and meet you downstairs in a minute.”
The corners of her mouth tugged up. “But you are dressed, chérie.”
“Oh, right.”
Marie chuckled and left.
Swirling back to my desk, I shrugged out of Julian’s hoodie and took a final deep breath of its scent. Mmm, this sea breeze cologne was the stuff that dreams were made of.
Downstairs, the remnants of a small breakfast Marie had served were visible, and she urged me to sit down at the neatly decked table with violets in a small pot in the middle. I’d barely swallowed the first draught of coffee, when Albert walked in and joined me at the table with a quirky look upon his face.
My gulp echoed through the room. Should I ask him why he was staring at me, or just pretend not to notice? From the plate in front of me, I stole a croissant and tore off a small piece, while my eyes remained on my uncle’s face. Slowly, I shoved the bite into my mouth.
Albert nudged the glass of strawberry jam toward me then laced his fingers on the table. “How did you like your first two days in the vineyard?”
“It’s okay, I guess. It’s just work.” I shrugged and dipped the knife into the jam, then smeared it on my pastry. “I really liked the dirt scanner,” I said in between bites, and a grin slipped to my lips.
Albert unbuttoned the cuf
fs of his white shirt and rolled up the sleeves. “Oui, that is my favorite, too.” His voice had dropped a notch and he mirrored my grin, which gave me a strange feeling of connection to this man.
With another sip from the hot drink, I washed the croissant down. “Is there no one tending to the shrubs today?”
“Saturdays and Sundays we normally run shorter shifts. Today Valentine and Henri are working outside. Everyone else can take the day off. Although, I might take a look later and make sure everything is okay.” He cast a sideways grin at my aunt, who snorted in response.
“Of course you will be out there later. When has there ever been a day in the past ten years that you have not?” Marie’s loving tone didn’t match her accusing words.
Albert pulled her to his side and planted a kiss on her palm. “But you knew that well when you married me.” He chuckled. Then he turned his gaze back to me. “I watched you work, Jona.”
“So?” If he intended to tell me off for not giving my best in the vines, I would have to enlighten him that this was, after all, slave labor and he should be happy I helped at all.
“It seems you had a good time out there,” Marie teased as she eased into the corner seat next to me.
Taken by surprise, I arched a brow, but didn’t find the right words to contradict her. Maybe because she was right.
“And you really were a great help,” Albert continued. “You may not be too happy about the way you came to France.” He curled his lip and scratched his head, appearing slightly uncomfortable. “But it seems like you are going to stay with us for a while.”
A very short while. I licked a drop of jam from my middle finger, then leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. My eyes darted from one to the other. What next?
“Your aunt and I do not want to force you into anything, but we could do with another pair of hands on the vineyard, especially in this busy season. So we wanted to ask you if you would like to do this as a real job. Just for as long as you will be our guest.”
I liked how my uncle put it. Unlike everyone else, he understood this was only temporary quarters and not my new home.