Ivy chewed one side of her lip and looked down at their joined hands. She recalled his hands on her most intimate flesh and something turned over in her stomach. One night was never going to be enough but would another five cure this sweet, torturous ache he alone triggered in her body? Probably not, but she would at least have more memories to keep when the time was over. She slowly brought her gaze back up to his. ‘I’ll come with you to Paris.’
His smile was lazy, but it ignited a flare in his eyes that made her heart skip another beat. ‘Good.’ He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her bent knuckles, still holding her gaze. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’ He released her hand, his expression turning rueful. ‘I would have suggested dinner tonight but it’s my mother’s birthday. I wouldn’t want to give her the wrong impression about us.’
Ivy would have liked to meet his parents in an effort to understand him better, but she was reluctant to voice it out loud. They were having a fling, not a relationship that followed a more traditional pattern of dating, courtship, marriage. She had no right to be offended that he didn’t offer to introduce her to his family. She wasn’t a permanent fixture in his life or at least not in a romantic sense. She had never envisaged him as a romantic partner, never allowed herself to think of him in any way other than as her brother’s friend. But one kiss had changed something inside her, which was faintly worrying. She was meant to have kept her emotions out of their arrangement. The last thing she needed was to complicate her life by falling in love with a man who had locked his heart away.
‘I totally understand. Just imagine if I brought you home with me to see my mum. She’d book a wedding planner on the spot and she’d probably beg to be my bridesmaid.’
Louis’ smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘Then it’s best we keep this trip to Paris to ourselves.’
‘Fine. Good plan.’
He moved closer again and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, her lips clung to his like silk snagging on something rough. His mouth came down again, firmer, warmer, more insistent, and her senses skyrocketed. She opened to him and wound her arms around his neck, her body pressing against the hard planes of his frame.
His tongue met hers in a silken thrust that set off fireworks in her blood. Molten heat flared in her core and her legs trembled with the effort of keeping upright. He made a rough sound at the back of his throat and brought her even closer, one of his hands pressed against the curve of her bottom, the other buried in the tresses of her hair. The slight tether of his fingers in her hair felt almost primal, possessive, and a shiver coursed down her spine like a shower of champagne bubbles. Louis angled his head to change position, deepening the kiss even further. An intense ache spread through her flesh, centred in her core where a heavy pulse thrummed.
He lifted his mouth off hers, his breathing heavy, his eyes glinting with desire. ‘Hold that thought, ma chérie. I’d better not be late for my mother’s birthday dinner. I’ll finish this in Paris.’
‘Is that a promise?’
He smiled a sexy smile that made her inner core shiver in anticipation. ‘Damn right it is.’
‘So, Paris this week with Louis, huh?’ Millie said, watching Ivy pack her bag in her bedroom later that evening. ‘What happened to the one-night-only rule? Who changed it? You or him?’
Ivy folded a silk evening blouse and placed it in her bag on the bed. ‘He did.’
‘Woo-hoo. You go, girl. You must have some serious chemistry going on between you.’
Ivy put a matching skirt next to the blouse in her bag. ‘It’s just a fling, Millie. Don’t get too excited. He’s not the falling in love type.’
‘Maybe not, but you definitely are. Are you sure you’re not falling a teensy weensy bit in love with him?’ Millie pressed her thumb and index finger together in a tiny pinching gesture.
‘It would be crazy for me to develop feelings for him.’ Crazy, crazy, crazy—so she had to try even harder to ignore those soft little flutters in her heart every time he looked at her.
Millie picked up a pendant she’d designed for Ivy’s last birthday and ran the fine silver chain through her fingers. ‘Let me know if you want me to design your engagement and wedding rings for you. Mates’ rates and all.’ Her friend might not be able to keep a secret, but she was excellent at spotting a white lie when she heard one.
Ivy turned to pick out some underwear from the wardrobe. ‘Don’t be silly. There’s not going to be an engagement or wedding. We’re calling it quits after Paris.’
She gripped the edge of the drawer and tried to imagine going back to being friends with Louis instead of lovers. How would she be able to do it? How could she look at him and not think of how it felt to be in his arms? To have his mouth clamped to hers, his body buried deep inside her? To feel the stroke of his hand down her spine or to feel his arm slip around her waist and draw her closer? Her body literally ached when she wasn’t with him. She had relived his love-making hundreds of times since coming home from work that evening. Her body was still humming and thrumming with the need he awakened.
Millie put down the pendant and met Ivy’s gaze. ‘But you don’t want it to end it, do you?’
Ivy sat on the bed with a sigh. ‘No. Not yet.’
Millie sat beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders. ‘I won’t tell you I told you so.’
Ivy gave her the side-eye. ‘Thanks.’
‘I’ll save that phrase for my mother. Did I tell you she’s getting divorced again?’
‘Again? How many times is that? Three?’
Millie flicked her eyes upwards in a despairing manner. ‘Four. And each time she’s been royally screwed over.’ She bounced off the bed and turned to face Ivy, her expression determined. ‘I’m not going to watch her get done over again. I’m saving up to get the best lawyer for her I can.’
‘They don’t come cheap. What about asking the guy you went on that blind date with a couple of months ago... Hunter Addison? Isn’t he a celebrity divorce lawyer? I’ve heard he’s brilliant. He might do it pro bono for you. It can’t hurt to ask him.’
Millie’s cheeks went as pink as the silk shirt in Ivy’s weekend bag. ‘Erm...well... I kind of burned my boats with him.’
‘Oh, really? What happened that night? You’ve always been a little cagey about talking about it.’
Millie shrugged one shoulder in an off-hand manner. ‘Nothing happened other than we both decided our mutual friends got it wrong in thinking we might ever hit it off. We had nothing in common and spent the whole ghastly evening annoying each other.’
Ivy wondered if her friend had deliberately sabotaged the date out of her unwillingness to move on from the death of her fiancé. ‘Hmm, well, all I can say is, he might be the worst blind date but word has it he’s one of the best divorce lawyers in London. If you don’t get him for your mum, then her ex will get him and, believe you me, you don’t want the best in the business working for your enemy.’
Millie chewed at the corner of her mouth; her eyes were troubled. ‘Gosh, I hadn’t thought of it that way...’ She straightened her shoulders and painted a bright smile on her face that didn’t fool Ivy for a second. ‘I’d better let you finish packing. Enjoy Paris.’
‘I will.’
It didn’t matter where she went with Louis, it would be impossible not to enjoy herself. The only trouble was...what would she have after Paris?
Memories. That was all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THEY FLEW TO PARIS the following morning and a short time afterwards Louis took her to his apartment in the Sixteenth Arrondissement in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The historic architecture was stunning, and many of the beautiful old buildings had been turned into modern apartments—including Louis’.
Ivy stepped over the threshold and stood for a moment, struck speechless by the elegance and design. The cryst
al chandeliers overhead tinkled from the slight draught from the door opening and closing. The marble floor was covered in places with hand-woven silk rugs that were so soft to step on, she thought her ankles were going to be swallowed. The pieces of antique furniture were priceless and came from various periods—from as early as the Renaissance, through to Louis XIV, Louis XV, Regency, Art Deco and Art Nouveau to modern times.
‘Oh, my God.’ She stepped farther into the foyer, touching various pieces with worshipful fingers. ‘Your taste is amazing. And your budget. Some of these things must’ve cost a fortune.’
‘If I like something, I buy it. I don’t allow the expense to influence my decision.’
‘Lucky you.’ Ivy leaned down to look more closely at a Louis XV rosewood and gold-inlaid writing desk she was sure she had seen before at work. ‘Hey, I’m sure we had this piece in the show room last year. I seem to remember a French interior designer bought it with a whole shipment of other stuff.’ She straightened and looked at Louis. ‘Did she buy it on your behalf?’
His expression was indecipherable. ‘I told her to buy from your shop because I know you have good quality, genuine antiques.’
Ivy gave a rueful smile. ‘It’s not my shop, it’s Mr Thornley’s and I have a horrible feeling he’s going to sell it now that his wife’s health is going downhill.’
‘Would you like to own your own business rather than work for someone else?’
Ivy ran a lazy finger over the gold inlay on the writing desk. ‘I don’t know... I want to keep working in antiques, but I want to have a family one day, and running a business is hard work and very time-consuming.’ She lowered her hand from the table and glanced at him. ‘And I certainly don’t have the money to buy Mr Thornley’s business. Not with Mum needing financial top-ups all the time.’
A frown settled on his brow. ‘Your mother’s financial problems are not your responsibility.’
She gave him an ironic look. ‘And nor are they yours, but you still bail her out from time to time.’
He gave a crooked smile. ‘Touché.’ His smile faded and he continued, ‘But it’s hard not to feel sorry for her. She’s never really got over your father leaving, has she?’
Ivy shook her head and sighed. ‘No. They were childhood sweethearts. He was her first lover. She thought they’d be together forever and then he traded her in for someone half her age.’
‘Marriage doesn’t suit all men.’
Ivy had come to realise, since sleeping with Louis, how much her mother’s lifestyle choices had affected her while growing up. The fear of being rejected by someone you thought loved you was too terrifying.
‘Remember how I told you how my mother was so out of control with her drinking and flings with men she’d met at the pub? Well, it embarrassed me so much, and I think it’s why I locked down my own budding sexuality. Mum was so open about sex that it made me all the more uncomfortable. She would talk about her latest lover and what they’d got up to and I’d cringe with embarrassment. I became the disapproving, prudish parent rather than the young teenage girl I really was.
‘And I couldn’t talk to Dad about it, because it might have made him fight for full custody, and no way did I want to live with him and his younger girlfriend. I’d then have to watch him acting like a born-again teenager with her every day instead of only the occasional weekend. And I didn’t want to worry Ronan because he was having enough trouble dealing with his own issues. I’m sure he would have come out about his sexuality a whole lot sooner if it hadn’t been for my parents breaking up and carrying on the way they did.’
Louis squeezed both her hands. ‘You’ve both done an amazing job of surviving what was and still is a difficult time. Parents can be so annoying when they let us down. But we let them down too, I guess. And those of us who choose to be parents will one day do the same to their children.’
Ivy tilted her head at him. ‘Have you ever been unfaithful to a partner?’
‘I’m never with them long enough to think of straying.’
‘But would you, if you were?’
‘No.’ There was a firm edge of finality about his tone. ‘An affair hurts everyone in the end. No one wins. I admire people who can move on from it but I’m not sure I could.’
‘Nor me. It’s a deal breaker for me. One of my flatmates, Zoey, was cheated on by a long-term boyfriend over a year ago. She’s still not over it.’
Louis picked up their bags from where he’d left them on the floor. ‘I’ll take these upstairs. Have you got to be somewhere by a certain time?’
‘This afternoon I have to meet with the daughter of the man who died at the villa in Montmartre, where the deceased estate is being housed. Mr Thornley wants me to check the quality and authenticity of the Victorian china before we commit to buying anything.’
‘Have you got time for a quick lunch?’
Ivy glanced at her watch. ‘Sure. But don’t you have meetings too?’
‘They can wait.’
A short time later, Louis took Ivy to one of the cafés nearby. He watched her work her way through a crispy baguette and soft, creamy cheese, marinated olives and a glass of white wine, her enjoyment obvious with the little ‘Mmm’ sounds she made. She caught him looking at her and her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. ‘Why are you looking at me like that? Haven’t you seen a woman eat before?’
Louis smiled and reached for his barely touched wine. ‘It is indeed a rare occurrence for me to be with a woman who really enjoys her food.’
‘That’ll teach you for dating supermodels all the time.’ She picked up another olive and popped it in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, then added, ‘I forgot to ask you how your mother’s birthday dinner went.’
He took a slow sip of wine before answering. ‘It was...bearable.’ He put his glass back on the table and leaned back in his seat. ‘At least they didn’t bicker the whole time I was there.’
Ivy grimaced. ‘If they’re so unhappy, why do they stay together? Surely it would be better to call it quits or get counselling or something?’
‘They were happy once.’ Louis leaned forward to take a couple of olives off the plate between them. He put them on his side plate and then wiped his fingers on his napkin. Talking about his parents always ruined his appetite. ‘But my mother’s disappointment at not being able to give my father the large family he wanted ate away at that happiness.’
‘That’s so sad. But at least your dad didn’t trade your mum in for someone who could give him what he wanted. That’s something to be grateful for, I guess.’
Louis’ mind flashed back to his mother’s blank face and deadened personality while she’d been in the mental health clinic. His gut—even after all this time—tightened into hard knots and his skin went ice-cold. ‘Yes, that’s true.’
Ivy leaned forward across the table and placed her hand on his wrist. ‘What’s wrong?’
Louis rearranged his features into a blank mask. ‘Nothing, why?’
She leaned back and sighed. ‘I don’t know...it just looked like you were really upset about something but trying not to show it.’
He must be slipping. He had no idea he had become so transparent. Another good reason only to spend this week with her before she got even further under his guard. ‘Talking about my parents isn’t my favourite pastime.’
She looked at him for a long moment. ‘You care about them, don’t you? Even though they are difficult and annoying, deep down you love them, otherwise you wouldn’t make time for your mother’s birthday.’
Louis picked up his wine glass again. ‘You’re becoming quite the little psychologist, aren’t you?’ He kept his tone playful and accompanied it with an indolent smile.
She twitched her nose in her cute bunny way. ‘I’m always banging on about my parents, but I really love Mum. Dad, not so much. I guess I’ve taught myself not to care any m
ore about him. It’s less painful.’
Louis waited a beat before responding, ‘My father suggested separating to my mother when I was ten years old, but she had a mental health crisis as a result. A serious one. She ended up in a clinic for months. He has never mentioned the words separation or divorce since in case she took another overdose.’
Ivy blinked at him in shock. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. How terribly distressing.’
Louis flicked a baguette crumb off the table with his fingers. ‘I used to hate going to see her at the clinic. I don’t know if it was the heavy drugs the doctors gave her, or whether she had completely shut down, but she was blank and motionless, just a body lying on the bed. She didn’t talk, she didn’t smile, she didn’t even seem to know who I was most days.’
Ivy reached forward again and grasped his hand. ‘Oh, Louis, how frightened and confused you must have been. Does Ronan know about this? He’s never said anything.’
‘No, I didn’t tell him. It’s not something I ever talk about with anyone.’ He gave a rueful twist of his mouth. ‘It happened a long time ago. I’ve almost forgotten about it now.’ Almost. But every now and again his mother would get a vacant look in her eyes and a wave of dread would swamp him. Was it happening again? Was she thinking of taking another overdose? The torturous thoughts circled his brain for hours as he remembered the anguish he’d felt and his utter powerlessness at being unable to do anything to help her.
‘I’m not sure anyone could forget such a harrowing time,’ Ivy said, softly stroking the back of his hand. ‘Has she ever had a relapse?’
‘Thankfully, no.’
‘But you must be living in dread of it anyway.’ Her insight was spot on, which shouldn’t have surprised him. But he wasn’t used to being close enough to a person for them to see the structural cracks in his façade. His childhood foundation had been compromised like a building that had suffered a destabilising earthquake tremor. He had reinforced where he could but there were still hairline cracks if you looked close enough. And he had a feeling Ivy was looking very closely indeed. Too close for comfort.
One Night On The Virgin's Terms (Mills & Boon Modern) (Wanted: A Billionaire, Book 1) Page 11