by Jules Wake
‘Pink it is for Lisa, blue for Karla and purple for Amelia. And I’ve seen a lovely print for Marcus and Al. It’s so them. They’ll love it. A hat for Lisa’s nan which matches her slippers perfectly.’
Why that was of any relevance he had no idea. Maybe it was a French thing.
‘Now I need to find something for Will.’
‘He won’t be expecting anything from you.’
She looked horrified. ‘That’s not the point. I want to get him something. But it’s got to be the right thing. It’s easy to order something. Have it delivered. I want my presents to show I’ve put some thought in.’
That was all well and good when you had all the time in the world and nothing to do but shop all day.
He had to admit her final choice, a wooden wine stand, was very tasteful.
A successful day. She’d managed to get something for everyone. Things she was sure they’d like. Nanna was going to love that hat. She squirmed in her seat at the thought of Lisa, Marcus and Al opening her presents. She couldn’t wait to wrap them with the gorgeous paper she’d seen with Lisa in John Lewis and she’d buy ribbon and matching tags, making all her presents look beautiful.
Jason had been quite patient as she’d browsed but he’d started to get bored towards the end. Now replete after a meal of steak-frites polished off with red wine, he looked much happier.
Jason asked for the bill as Siena fidgeted on her chair. She’d wanted to share the bill but he’d insisted on paying for dinner. ‘For services rendered.’ He winked. ‘As well as flights and hotel rooms.’
‘Have you finished your coffee yet?’ She’d already pulled on her coat. He was taking forever. She wanted to show him something. She hadn’t managed to get him a present today. A bit tricky with him underfoot. This would be a memory for him.
‘Where’s the fire, hot pants?’
She tapped her foot under the table. At last he drained his cup.
‘Ready?’
She’d been ready for ages. It was truly dark outside now.
‘Come on,’ she grabbed his hand and dragged him outside. It had become much busier and they had to slow down to weave through the crowded lanes. She knew the way and kept up her pace. They skirted the cathedral, dramatically up lit, the milky walls looking more like a fairy castle than a religious centre. She barely gave Jason chance to look up or take a second look.
Then she stopped and pushed him to the side of the lane up against the wall.
‘Close your eyes,’ she said.
‘What are you planning to do with me?’ His voice held a trace of amusement. She didn’t put it past him to cheat.
‘Take off your scarf.’
‘It’s not going to get kinky is it?’
‘No,’ she laughed, ‘I don’t trust you not to peek.’
She tied the scarf around his eyes and took his arm, guiding him through. People smiling at her, moving out of their way, so that when they approached the balustrade on the terrace a gap magically appeared.
With a flourish, she whipped the scarf off.
‘Paris!’
Spread out below them the city shimmered with light. Together they stood there without saying a word. Like a golden sentinel standing guard, the Eiffel Tower dominated the distant skyline. He reached for her hand and squeezed it.
‘I can see where it gets its name,’ said Jason looking down at her.
‘I love this view. It never gets old.’ She smiled up at him. His eyes locked with hers and for a moment her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes fluttered closed.
‘Thanks for a great day,’ his voice sounded brusque. When she opened her eyes, he’d turned to look back out over the city.
She swallowed hard, battling to hide leaden disappointment.
She darted forward. ‘Excusez-moi?’ She held out her phone. ‘Est-ce que vous-pouvez prendre une photo?’
The man obliged and she went back to stand next to Jason, he slung his arm around her and she squeezed in close to him.
‘That’s lovely, merci,’ she said as the man handed back her phone. ‘A nice memory of the day.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it.’ Jason nudged her. Matey and jolly. ‘More than I thought I would.’ He gave a small laugh. ‘I expected you’d take me on a tour of all the designer shops and art galleries.’
‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘There wasn’t time today.’
Mustering her spirits, she added. ‘But tomorrow’s a whole other day. Our appointment’s at nine fifteen and our flight’s at six. There are a few hours of shopping time in between.’
He groaned. ‘I thought I’d got off lightly.’
Chapter 19
‘I do love a good breakfast,’ said Jason as he set down the plate he’d piled high with croissant, cheese, ham and little packs of Nutella.
‘So I see. How come at home,’ she paused, Laurie’s house did feel like home now.
‘How come at home … what?’
‘You don’t eat in the mornings. You drink coffee.’
‘Because, sounds awful, I know but, I can scrounge something at the pub later. There’s always something left over, so I feel I can justify it.’
He didn’t need to justify it to her either but it was rather sweet that he did.
‘Sleep well?’
She nodded, although sleep hadn’t come quickly. She couldn’t get that near miss of a kiss out of her head last night. When had grumpy Jason turned into this teasing man with a hidden sensitive side?
‘So where are you taking me after our meeting?’ asked Jason, as she gave a small sigh.
‘We’re going to Saint-Denis. It has a very nice mediaeval church there and an excellent museum of art and history.’ She didn’t actually say that they were going to visit them.
‘Sounds fun.’
She hid a smile, watching him manfully try to summon up some enthusiasm as he swallowed down his coffee.
‘I need to take a quick detour this morning. Before the meeting.’ Toying with her napkin, she folded it into a neat square before changing her mind and pleating the white linen. ‘It won’t take long.’ She rearranged the salt, pepper and toothpick holder in the centre of the table. ‘Straight in and out, really.’ She took a toothpick and ran her fingers up and down it. ‘We’ll need to leave half an hour earlier or,’ she lifted her shoulders, ‘I could meet you there?’
Jason leaned over and removed the toothpick from her fingers. ‘It’s not a problem. I’m ready to go whenever you are.’
From the hotel they turned left down the busy street, took a right, another left and another right. Less than five minutes after leaving the hotel, she stopped outside an elegant mansion block, its tall windows bordered by beautiful wrought iron balconies. Thankfully the street was empty but she took a quick look around in case.
‘Come on.’ She nodded her head towards the tall entrance door and ran lightly up the stone stairs. Punching in the code as quickly as she could, she hauled Jason through the front door and tapped quickly across the black and white tiled hallway to the internal staircase.
‘Are we meeting a Russian spy or something?’ Jason asked.
She ignored him, taking the shallow stairs two at a time without bothering to check that Jason kept up, her hand running lightly along the brass hand rail spiralling up the centre of the stairs which gleamed from years of tender care by the concierge and his family. She wanted to be in and out as quickly as possible.
‘Where are we?’ asked Jason when they came to an abrupt stop outside a glossily painted door.
‘Shhh,’ whispered Siena. The Amiens who lived in the apartment across the way didn’t spend much time here but they could be in town for some Christmas shopping.
Finding her key, she unlocked the door and glancing down the empty hall with a sigh of relief, she pulled him in, quietly shutting the door. The burglar alarm flashed, which was a good sign; it meant no one was home. Tapping in the code, she silenced the beep.
‘Should we be here?’ asked Jason
with a worried frown.
‘Technically. Yes.’ But in reality being here was horribly uncomfortable. She wanted to grab what she’d come for and go as quickly as possible.
She opened the first door on the right and peeped in even though she knew the place was empty.
The kitchen with its grey hi-gloss cabinets, dark granite worktops and hidden appliances felt ominously quiet. A whisper of unease prickled along her skin.
Jason stepped into the centre of the room and looked around, hands planted on his hips. ‘Design by Darth Vader? The Death Star range? Installed by a team of storm troopers?’
‘It is a bit grim isn’t it? But it was the feature spread in Homes & Interiors when it was done, so it set a trend.’ One her mother was inordinately proud of.
Without stopping to gauge his reaction to the high ceilinged salon, she cut through, coming onto a second corridor but behind her she could hear him muttering. Walking straight through the bedroom, she opened the doors to her dressing room and threw open the first set of doors.
Dropping to the floor, she cast her eye along the rows of shoeboxes. On the front of each was a digital print of the shoes inside. The boxes were arranged by colour, which made it easier as all the pink and red tones were at the far end.
‘Bloody hell. What is this?’ Jason’s semi-horrified tones startled her but she’d found what she was looking for – the pink satin Dolce & Gabbana sandals she’d worn at her birthday ball on a boat on the Seine last year and a pair of unworn Yves Saint Laurent rose coloured leather peep toes.
‘Can I ask? Are we breaking and entering? Or is it allowed under French law to wander around some Russian oligarch or oil rich sheikh’s place?’ asked Jason watching her pop both pairs, along with matching clutch bags, into a wheelie case she’d grabbed from the cupboard opposite. ‘Are you stealing shoes?’
Ignoring him, she crossed to the chest behind him and rifled through to find a pair of thermal long johns and vest, some ski gloves and a hat.
‘And ugly underwear?’
‘I had no idea it was going to be so cold in England.’
‘Quite.’
From the last wardrobe on the run, she pulled out a pair of snow boots and a pair of UGG boots and tossed both into the case.
‘You certainly seem to know your way around.’
‘All done.’ With brisk efficiency, she zipped up the case and pulled it past Jason, back out to the front entrance.
‘Come on,’ she said, waiting impatiently by the alarm panel.
He looked completely bemused but followed nonetheless.
‘Jason you can stop worrying. It’s my stuff. This is the family apartment. Where we stay when we’re in Paris. But I didn’t feel we could stay here. Maman’s cancelled my cards. It’s a point of principle.’ She tossed her hair over her shoulders and gave the black gloss door a final backward glance. Staying here would have been an admission of defeat.
‘You’re fucking kidding me.’ He looked back over his shoulder.
‘I think that’s a done deal,’ said Jason as they boarded the Métro at Invalides. Will would be pleased with the outcome. Selling beer to the French. Who’d have thought it?
‘Much nicer people to deal with,’ agreed Siena, settling her bag on her knees.
‘Nicer everything. Offices. Coffee. Cake. Old Lefoute was too busy peering at us like we were a pair of slugs to offer us a drink yesterday, let alone take us out to a cake shop.’
‘Pâtisserie,’ corrected Siena. ‘You can’t call it a cake shop!’
‘I’m not sure I’ll need to eat again before we get on the plane.’ He didn’t normally have that much of a sweet tooth but the amazing gateaux and desserts on display had been too mouth-wateringly enticing to refuse. ‘Are you sure we’ve got time to go to this church and museum place?’ An afternoon in a café drinking coffee and watching the world go by sounded peachy to him.
‘Where’s your sense of adventure?’ teased Siena.
That’s when he realised she was up to something. She was about as interested in old churches as he was. Every now and then he caught a secretive smirk on her face.
Yesterday had been a surprise. He’d resigned himself to a lot of high end window shopping and a visit to a gallery or two but she’d gauged his preference for being outdoors perfectly. There was no way she’d inflict a church on him. What was she up to?
Twenty minutes later they arrived at Saint-Denis Porte de Paris Métro station and Siena got out her iPhone and sent a quick text.
‘Any clues yet?’ asked Jason.
‘Non.’ She shook her head, an impish look upon her face, dancing out of reach when he grabbed her, pretending to shake her. ‘Patience is a virtue.’
‘So is not being irritating.’ She walked backwards for a minute facing him and poked out her tongue.
They were walking along a busy road in a not particularly attractive area and he was clueless until they rounded a corner and a huge stadium rose above them.
‘Is that …’ Words eluded him. Speechless. Genuinely. He didn’t know what to say.
Siena beamed at him, her face lit up with delight at his surprise and her eyes wide with anticipation. ‘Surprise. Stade de France. The home of French rugby. It was the best I could do. Unfortunately there isn’t a match until the twenty-first, although Harry will be using the box that day. It’s his birthday. Maman was a bit cross that she had to rearrange his birthday party for the twenty-third.’ She was babbling and he could tell it was nerves.
‘I thought you might like a tour. I called Georges. He’s the event manager who looks after the boxes. I told you Harry has one.’
Jason began to laugh. ‘We have the whole of Paris at our feet; the Louvre, the Musée d’Orsay, Notre-Dame, the Eiffel Tower and you bring me here?’ He grabbed the ends of her scarf and pulled her towards him, until her laughing face was within kissing distance.
A punch of longing seared, fast and sharp through him. With both hands he let go of her scarf as if the fabric had burned him. Shit, he’d nearly kissed her last night as well. What the hell was wrong with him? Keep it light. Keep it friendly.
He dropped a quick kiss on her nose.
‘Thanks Siena.’ He straightened, patting her shoulder, putting distance between them. Shit, that shook him up. ‘What a brilliant idea. Really thoughtful. Fantastic.’ Now he was the one babbling.
Bugger, she looked disappointed. He had to be more careful about keeping his distance. Truth was, he’d have happily snogged the living daylights out of her, but luckily the common sense fairy paid a visit in the nick of time. Kissing her came under the heading marked an extremely bad idea. He’d travelled down that road before.
‘My pleasure.’
He hated himself for dimming the happiness that had radiated from her eyes seconds before. Her mouth pursed. ‘Come on, we can’t be late. Georges will have pulled out all the stops.’
Chapter 20
‘I don’t fucking believe it.’
Jason shook his head, speaking out loud to no one in particular. ‘Welcome back and yes the trip to France went well, thanks very much for asking. Despite the fact we didn’t get in until three this morning.’
Heavy snow had started to fall as they’d left the stadium, a cold front advancing from Siberia which meant their plane had been delayed and when they landed, the snow had already begun to fall in London.
Will was jumping around, his blond hair loose for a change, looking like a very unhappy and demented elf – a far cry from his usual reserved, Legolas self. Siena often thought he looked like the character from Lord of the Rings. Today had her wondering if a pack of orcs had rampaged through the pub and murdered every last customer.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Jason, totally ignoring Will’s dancing histrionics. He strode past him into the pub, shaking the snow from his boots. The Land Rover had made short work of the snowy roads on the way back from Heathrow late last night and into the village this morning.
Siena followed mo
re slowly, eying Will doubtfully. His feet were bare, an unbuttoned white shirt flapped open over jeans which he had yet to zip up. Her eyes hastily slid upwards. Someone went commando.
‘Fucking, pissing, fucking power cut, thanks to the dump of snow overnight. How the hell am I supposed to run a pub with no power? The electricity board says it won’t be back on until tomorrow. The whole sodding village is out.’
Jason whirled round. ‘You’re kidding? Phew, thank God we bottled yesterday.’
‘Bully for you. I’ve got a wedding party in the barn in three hours. Fifty people expecting food. Booked for frigging months. The Elmsleys! They’ll go ape.’
‘You’ll have to cancel,’ said Jason, being a man and saying the most obvious thing. Much as she admired his calm, no nonsense attitude in the face of possible calamity, Siena nearly choked and for a minute wondered if Will might punch him. She stepped between them as Will danced over on the balls of his feet, his face dark with anger.
‘Why don’t we calm down and consider all the options?’ she suggested.
‘Why don’t we, Miss Polly-fucking-Anna?’ Will snarled, ‘You think a positive mental attitude is going to solve this, do you?’ He loomed over her. Like Yves. Siena froze, her feet welded to the floor, her heart in her mouth.
With incredible grace, Jason slid in front of her, grabbed Will’s arm and gently pushed him back up to the wall with the implacable force of a bulldozer at full throttle. It defused any sense of violence and a breath eased out of her lungs.
The simple action almost floored her. Warmth rushed through her with a flash of heat, her mouth went dry as she stared at Jason’s broad back, shielding her from Will.
‘Don’t,’ he said with deadly calm.
Will blanched and read something in Jason’s eyes. Siena saw the fight go out of him, like a hot air balloon deflating.
‘Shit, sorry Siena. I’m really sorry. That was uncalled for.’ Will stepped forward.
Jason whirled round, slapped a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back. His eyes blazed. ‘Just keep your distance.’