by Anna Katmore
“We will, of course, pay you for the work.” Marie gave a reassuring nod which, together with her words, made my jaw drop to my chest. “How does two hundred euro a week sound to you?”
For about thirty seconds I said absolutely nothing but struggled to come back to my senses. “Did you just say two hundred? Euro?”
The dragon must have forgotten to mention I was bound by law to be their slave until my birthday. Old Abe definitely hadn’t said anything about payment when we last met.
Albert nodded, pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his trousers and slipped out a one-hundred euro note. He placed it on the table then shoved it toward me, just like the jam before. “This is your salary for the past two days.”
Or, as I liked to call it, my ticket back to England.
The little red devil on my left shoulder rubbed his hands while his horned head bobbed with conspiratorial snickers. If Albert meant what he’d said, and I could endure another week in this house, I might be able to walk off with three of those pretty green bills in my pocket.
To make sure none of them would go back on their offer, I gave both a daring glance before my hand slowly crept forward to snatch the money.
“You agree?” My uncle’s mien did a good imitation of his wife’s beam.
I nodded slowly, still unable to utter a single word.
“Great. Now, I wish you two a nice day.” His gaze switched between me and my aunt. “I will be out in the vineyard and see if Henri needs a hand with the scans.” He winked at me then turned to silence Marie with a kiss before she could tell him off in her sweet manner.
As he disappeared through the door, Aunt Marie sighed and planted her chin on her palm. “He is incorrigible.” The devoted spark in her eyes had me wondering if she already missed him.
“If you are finished, can I get you to clear the table while I shove a load into the washer?”
“Sure.” When she was gone, I hummed my little melody as I stored the butter and jam into the giant fridge then cleaned my plate. Water soaked into my shirt and, after rubbing the front dry, I bounced into Julian on the way out of the kitchen.
If he hadn’t wrapped his arm around my middle so fast to prevent me from falling, I might have taken a vase from the waist-high credenza down with me. Marie certainly wouldn’t have liked that, so I was happy to find myself in Julian’s hug instead.
But this was definitely not the only reason.
“Whoa, sorry,” he said, although his tightening grip revealed he was anything but. Also a smirk undermined his credibility a little too much.
I liked it when only one corner of his lips came up and he quirked his brows. All that was missing was the growl of a tiger that had claimed his victim.
For a fraction of a second, a very scary thought crossed my mind. What would happen if I took his face between my hands and pulled his head down for a kiss?
Are you nuts? You don’t do kisses.
Right. A kiss meant giving up protection and showing affections. And this was something I could never let happen. When my stance was steady again, I shoved against Julian’s chest, wrenched out of his embrace, and silenced the part of me that pleaded to stay in his arms just a little longer. “Get off. You’re crushing me.”
He tucked his hands into the pockets of his black pants and gave me a suggestive glance. “Sorry. I guess there’s no immediate danger on the ground floor.”
“None that would break my neck if I fell.”
Ignoring my snappy tone, he leaned around the doorframe to survey the kitchen. “Is your aunt around?”
“Doing the laundry.”
“I am here, Julian!” Marie climbed the stairs from the cellar and approached us, a basket full of freshly laundered clothes braced on her right hip while her hand clasped the brim. “What do you need, dear?”
“Can I borrow your car? I need to get something from town.”
Marie’s gaze darted to my eyes and back to him. Then her lips pursed. “Actually, Jona and I are going to town. You could come with us.”
Julian frowned, luckily not at me but at my aunt. “I thought you two were going to have a ladies’ day. I don’t want to disturb.”
Fingers laced behind my back, my mouth curved. “You’re not disturbing.” Oh my god, had I really just invited him? And with that silly sweet voice? Pivoting to Marie, I gave her an expectant look. “Right?”
Can someone slap me? Hard, please.
“Not at all.”
Julian’s eyes traveled to my side before his head inclined. “Okay,” he agreed slowly. “I’ll just check on your mother and then meet you two outside.”
When he walked past me his eyes still fixed mine with a stare as though he doubted my good will and expected me to start laughing any second at his silliness to fall for my joke.
A sweet grin was all I granted him. “Hurry up.”
“That was very nice of you, chérie,” my aunt approved after Julian had disappeared in the dragon’s hole.
Shrugging it off with one shoulder, I turned on my heel and sauntered outside. My grin spread wider and wider. Inwardly, I jubilated at the thought that Julian would be around us all day with no chance to run back to Charlene every half an hour. Oh, today was shaping up to be one fine day indeed.
THE MENU IN FRENCH
THE BACKSEAT OF Marie’s SUV provided a good view at Julian, who’d climbed into the passenger seat. As far as the seatbelt allowed, I lounged in the corner with my legs pulled up and scanned every inch of his handsome face while the tires rolled over the unpaved country road. His straight nose perfected the harmony between his high cheekbones and intelligent eyes.
The corners of his lips twitched slightly when he cast me a knowing glance halfway over his shoulder. I probably turned red as a stop sign, but that didn’t stop me from studying him. If at all, my gaze dropped for merely a second. The seawater blue of his shirt accentuated his midnight eyes. He blinked twice before he faced front again.
Outside, the beautiful French landscape rushed by on our ten-minute drive to town.
“I believe it best we start off with a little shopping,” my aunt said while she steered the car onto the main road. “Afterward we can eat lunch together.”
“Fine with me,” Julian exclaimed, and I agreed with a low um-hm from the back.
After we passed the Fontvieille sign, Marie turned into a one-way street lined with colorful two story houses blending in perfectly with the mountains in the distance. In the city’s public parking lot, she maneuvered the car between a green van and a convertible and cut the engine. As soon as we climbed out, the busy murmur of Saturday morning shoppers drifted to us and curiosity built high within me.
We rounded a corner, and then I halted mid-step, holding my breath. A whiff of home surrounded me, bringing with it memories of Friday raids in old Blighty.
“It looks like Oxford Street,” I cheered, and spun on the spot to take in the neat marketplace, lined with fancy boutiques and shops.
Nudging my ribs with his elbow, Julian chuckled. “Just a wee bit smaller, I suppose.”
“Much smaller.” But it didn’t matter. The sunny place was a good enough imitation.
We came past a stand where the reflection of the sun in silver caught my eye. A manifold of watches and filigree bracelets covered the velvety countertop, pendants in various shapes and all colors of the rainbow.
Seeing the fine jewelry, a tingle started in my fingers. Oh yeah, the Dodger was back. But my promise to Quinn virtually tied my hands. I shoved them deep into my pockets and swallowed hard at the temptation as I forced myself to walk on with the others.
Nevertheless, this crowded market presented another alluring opportunity. It’d be too easy to fall behind and take a wrong turn, then shake Marie and Julian off. Yesterday, I might have even considered a move like this to escape my punishment called family. But this morning, I’d come to a decision, and for now, I’d stick with it.
Julian startled me when he inched closer a
nd said so low that only I could hear, “I didn’t expect that a place like this would make you so happy. Should we keep a watch on you in case you get lost in the crowd?”
Had he gotten another sneak peek into my mind? I criticized him with a scowl. “If that is what’s on your mind you should have brought Quinn’s handcuffs.”
Julian snaked his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “Maybe I did.”
My focus zoomed in on the stainless steel loop he half-tugged out of the pocket of his pants; it glinted viciously in the sun.
Stunned, I pushed away from him. “Jeez, Julian! Who are you? Abe’s twin brother? You’re not going to use them on me.”
His chest shook with another laugh. He shoved the cuffs back into his pocket. “Don’t worry, I don’t intend to.” Hands raised in surrender, he moved closer with a smirk. “As long as you’re staying near.”
You keep your amazing smile on and I’ll do whatever you say.
The little girl within me sighed in hopeless devotion to her Prince Charming. On the surface, I built a wall of protection with the only thing I knew always worked a hundred percent. “Okay, Dad. Do you want to hold my hand, too?”
His lips curled, and I could barely hold back an outraged laugh about him really contemplating this option.
“You can’t be serious,” I snarled before he could even insist on me taking his hand.
Julian raised a suggestive brow.
“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” My laugh softened, since this definitely was one of the most bizarre conversations I’d ever had. With a person anyway. Talking to the pigeons in the park didn’t count.
We followed Marie, who’d walked a few steps down the street and peered through the window of a clothing shop. Julian nudged me again and offered me his bent elbow.
“Is this your insurance for me not to fall behind? An alternative to the shackles in your pocket?” In spite of my teasing tone, I wanted nothing more than to hold onto him and let him guide me through the maze of shoppers loaded with bags.
Julian blinked slowly. His arm didn’t budge. “Come on, I won’t wait forever.”
“Oh, you’re so pushy.” I rolled my eyes at him, but then I happily looped my arm through his. My fingers curled around his firm biceps that flexed lightly when he tucked his hand into his pocket. With a firm squeeze of his arm against his body, he ensured my hand wouldn’t slip away.
A few feet in front of us, Marie halted and took a step back to peek into another shop window. “Oh, this is just lovely,” she cooed over a caramel colored blouse. Straightening, she pivoted to us and at the same instant caught our joined arms. Her mouth dropped open, her expression turned to an unambiguous Oh.
“It’s not what you think,” I whined. “He’s just worried I might…get lost in the crowd.”
“Oh.” Now the word came from her mouth, but before she turned to walk on, she cut us both a joyful glance. She definitely approved of us being linked.
Oh glee.
Marie led us to another shop, and this time she intended to go inside instead of just gaze through the windows.
Julian stopped in front of the sliding glass door as we entered. “I’m sure you ladies don’t need me for this. I’ll head back to Paul’s piano shop and see if he’s got anything new. Back in ten.” Then his eyes switched to me. “Have fun.” The door shut when he stepped away and headed back in the direction we’d come from.
Marie’s hand on my shoulder broke my staring after him. A warm shine lingered in her eyes. “The music store is only one block away. He will be back soon enough.”
Yeah, right. And what do I care? I harrumphed and strode after her when she walked off with a chuckle.
Marie demonstrated then what a French woman in shopping mood was capable of. Within minutes, she’d rushed through the spacious store with dapperly dressed mannequins lounging at each end. It was hard to spot her face behind piled up shirts, dresses, and pants on her arm.
With her free hand, she tugged on my sleeve and dragged me toward one of the many changing cubicles lining the back of the shop. “Come, chérie. Let us try them on.”
Shock slammed into me at her words, and I stopped in my tracks. With my abrupt halt, Marie whirled around because she still clasped my shirt. She struggled not to drop the entire load on the marble floor.
“What is wrong? I am sure I got your size right, and they are really lovely clothes.” She held the rainbow colored pile out to me.
“Ma’am, I don’t do lovely.” And most of all, I didn’t intend to spend a single cent of my traveling money in this shop. “Really, I don’t want any new things. What you gave me the other day will do for a decade.”
“Nonsense. You can never have too many clothes.” She waved a hand, but then doubt rushed across her face. Her shiny green eyes narrowed. “Or are you worried about the money? Of course, you do not have to pay for any of these. Albert and I will cover the costs of everything you need.”
This woman’s and her husband’s generosity went far beyond the levels of normal. An awkward fist clamped my stomach. “Why, thank you,” I stammered, shifting my weight to one foot. “But you shouldn’t. I really don’t need anything.”
Aunt Marie pouted. “All right then. But if you find something you would like to have, do not be shy to ask for it.”
Knowing that would never happen, I nodded just to be free of her insisting.
While she vanished into the cubicle, I roamed the shop looking at things I’d never own. In front of a tall, slender mannequin that was modeled after an African woman, I halted and gaped at her short, bright yellow summer dress.
The halter neck top provided a stunning view of the upper bow of her breasts, and the waist of the dress was set high. The mannequin’s bare legs were silhouetted against the three thin layers of laced fabric and her feet were clad in breakneck high heels. Though the design and style of the dress were simple, I’d barely seen a more beautiful thing in my life.
“You would look amazing in that dress.”
I shot around to find Julian sprawled in a square leather chair across the way.
He was back. And I’d missed him in this—what? Eleven minutes?
Head on the low backrest, he’d laced his fingers on top of his stomach and eyed me through relaxed slits. His lips twitched.
I laughed low. “You’re crazy. Me in this dress? Never.”
“What’s wrong with it?” He straightened, leaned forward, with his elbows on his thighs.
Stepping aside to grant him a better view of the dress, I motioned up and down the mannequin on the square pedestal. “It’s bright yellow.”
“So?” Smooth like a cat, Julian rose from the chair, and with his hands shoved into his pockets, he joined me by the dummy. “A little color would suit you. Why are you wearing black all the time? You aren’t going to a funeral.”
I shrugged. “Maybe I am.” Sooner or later. “Actually, I like to stay invisible. Blend in.”
“Which comes in handy when you’re on the run from the police or a mad shop owner, I suppose.” A tick in his jaw and a dimple—he was suppressing a grin.
Great. Anger ate at my insides that escapades of my old reality seemed to amuse the man I felt so strangely attracted to.
“Why miss out on all the action?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “The adrenalin rush from a close escape would bring some excitement even to your straight life.”
“Diva,” he drawled. “Do you bite, too?” Julian clicked his teeth twice, spun on his heel, and walked away, chuckling.
I flipped him the bird, but he didn’t see it.
My attention returned to the dress. Me…in yellow. The guy was nuts.
“I think I’ll get these shirts and a pair of trousers.” Marie’s voice made me snap my head in her direction. She strolled toward me holding the clothes in front of her as if to examine them one last time before making her purchase.
Stopping next to me, she looked up. “Do you like that dress?”
“Really?” Marie scanned the mannequin from bottom to top. “I think it would look nice on you.”
Oh no. Her, too? “I don’t think so. Are you done here? I’ve seen a nice shop across the street. We could drop in there as well.” The lie would distract her so she wouldn’t make me try the gown on.
“Sorry.” She scurried to the cash register with me in tow. “I got caught up with my shopping.” Pulling her wallet out of her purse, she glanced around the store. “Is Julian back?”
“He’s waiting outside.”
The shop assistant scanned the price tags and shoved the clothes into a big plastic bag. The digital display on the counter flashed one hundred twenty-nine euro and seventy cents.
“Bloody hell, that much for a pair of pants and two shirts?” I blurted before I could think better of it.
The blonde woman stared hard at me, but my aunt didn’t even blink at the total. She took my hand and led me toward the exit, where Julian waited, drinking from a small bottle of mineral water. He wiped the bottle’s mouth then held it out to me.
I took a swig. “Thanks.”
He nodded once.
The three of us made a tour through four more shops. The woman was insatiable, buying sweaters, blouses, skirts and shoes. Julian and I had to help her carry the bags or else she’d have been packed like a donkey in the veldt. She must have spent close to five hundred euro before we finally headed to a bistro with our stomachs rumbling.
We found seats at a table outside. Grabbing the menu, I scanned through the dishes, but they were all written in French. I flipped the card around to see if the other side would be in English. It only displayed a man slinging his arm around a man-shaped baguette. Brilliant.
Julian frowned at me over the edge of his card. “What’s wrong?”
Leaning toward him, I whispered, “This is all French. I can’t read the menu.”
He smiled and rolled his eyes. “You’re in France, girl. Of course it’s in French.” The legs of the metal chair scraped on the pavement as he scooted closer. “I’ll translate for you.”