Authors: Lucy Felthouse
Sydney’s heart sunk right into her shoes. Damn, she should have known that question was coming, prepared for it somehow. Unfortunately, though, she hadn’t seen it coming and therefore sat there, opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, unable to form the words and make them leave her lips. Eventually, she let out a heavy sigh, then drained the rest of her wine.
‘I think you’d better fill me up,’ she said, holding her glass out to Harry. ‘We appear to have got to the sticky part of us getting to know each other.’
‘God, I’m sorry,’ he replied, quickly taking her glass, filling it up, and handing it back. ‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I just thought it was a pretty natural question to follow what you said.’
She took a long, slow sip of her wine to buy her a few seconds to formulate a response. ‘No, it’s OK. It was a natural question, and one you’ve got every right to ask. I should have expected it, but it’s just that everything seems to be moving so fast. One minute I think you’re married and I’m trying to be friendly but on a purely platonic basis, and the next I learn that not only are you single, but you like me as much as I like you. My head’s spinning a little, if I’m honest.’
Harry nodded slowly, and sipped his own wine. It seemed despite the awkwardness of their conversation, he was sticking to his guns and only having one glass and therefore was trying to make it last. ‘I know what you mean, and I’m really sorry if things have moved at warp speed. It’s just that I had a head start, if you get what I mean, because obviously all along I knew I was single, and that I liked you. For me there was no barrier, no reason to be at arm’s length. Also, Shelly dying so young has made me appreciate life more, and really hit home for me that life is short and we should grasp every moment of fun and happiness we possibly can.’
‘I couldn’t agree more. Though I hasten to add that I have been happy and having fun without a man.’
‘I don’t doubt it. I’ve been happy single too, though of course I still miss Shelly every day. That’s not why I haven’t been with anyone, though. In fact, when she knew the end was near, she forced me to promise to find someone else, not to be alone. It’s just that, until now, there hasn’t been anyone I wanted to fulfil that promise with.’
God, she really had to answer his question now, didn’t she? Harry had already spilled a great deal of personal information and emotional stuff. The least she could do was tell him a little bit about her last relationship. Plus, they’d agreed not to talk about depressing topics today, so although that plan had clearly gone out of the window, maybe the sooner they got the baggage out of the way, the sooner they could continue having fun.
‘She sounds like a wonderful woman. Unfortunately, my ex wasn’t wonderful at all. We were together for just over a year and everything was great …’ Sydney could see the growing confusion on Harry’s face as she spoke. ‘That was, until I found out he was married. As in, not even separated. Still living with his wife, as man and wife, and as far as she was concerned, they were happily married. Neither of us had the slightest inkling about the other. Needless to say, I ditched him as soon as I found out. I felt as though my heart had been ripped from my chest and fed into an industrial shredder. I’ve never felt so betrayed and lied to in all my life.’
Harry’s expression went through a series of changes. Shocked, angry, disbelieving, and finally sympathetic. ‘Christ, what a wanker. Sorry, Sydney, I apologise for my language, but really that was quite mild compared to the words I’m saying in my head.’
‘No need to apologise. I’m sure I’ve already called him all the words in your head, and then some. Plus I don’t mind swearing, anyway. You go for it.’
He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me all that. Now I totally understand why seeing my wedding ring made you back off. In fact –’ he reached down and grasped the band encircling his finger ‘– I’m going to take it off. I mean no disrespect to Shelly, but I’m doing my best to follow her wishes, and if this helps, then I know she won’t mind.’
‘You don’t have to do that,’ Sydney replied. She didn’t know why she’d believed Harry from the beginning, when he’d said he was widowed, but for some reason she did. Despite what
he
had done to her – and his poor wife – she trusted Harry. Possibly because he’d already invited her into his home – albeit his holiday home. Her ex had never done that, and it had taken her 13 damn months to find out why.
Harry’s words pulled her from her reverie. ‘I know I don’t. But knowing what I know now, I don’t want to give you reason to doubt me. I’m kind of stuck over here until the renovation of the other half of the barn is done, but when it’s finished and I come home, I would love for you to meet my kids. Providing things are going well between us, that is. I don’t want to confuse them by bringing a woman into their lives if we’re not serious.’
‘I understand,’ she replied. ‘And I guess we should see how things go. I mean, we haven’t even kissed yet. You might be a lousy kisser!’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, but she suspected her subconscious had conjured them up, fed up of the dismal conversation and wanting to lighten things up.
Harry laughed long and loud, startling a couple of the other diners, and drawing amused glances from the staff. Just then, the swinging doors from the kitchen opened and a waiter came out, carrying a few plates and heading in their direction.
Harry leant over the table a little and lowered his voice. ‘Just so you know, this conversation isn’t over. You’re going to pay for that comment. Not to mention I’m going to prove it’s not true.’
His words and the look in his eyes sent a delicious shiver through her. She was happy for the distraction from the unpleasant part of the conversation they’d just had, and clung onto it, hard. If anything meaningful was going to happen between them, then they both had to let go of the past and move on together. She was sure it wouldn’t be easy, especially as there were children involved, but they’d never know unless they tried.
She managed to give him a cheeky wink just before the waiter arrived at their table, then she turned her attention to the man, giving a polite smile and murmuring words of thanks as her meal was placed before her. It looked delicious, but she had no idea where she was going to put it all. The serving was huge. She continued to stare at her plate, hardly noticing their server had gone.
‘I hope you’re hungry,’ Harry said, pulling her attention back to him.
She grinned. ‘I am, but I don’t think my appetite will stretch quite this far.’
He shrugged. ‘Just eat what you can. No sense in making yourself feel sick. Just enjoy it.’
‘I intend to.’
They shared a smile, their gazes lingering a while, before they picked up their cutlery and began to eat. They were silent for some time, except for the sounds of knives and forks scraping on plates, and the occasional pleasure-filled noise as the delicious food exploded over their taste buds.
Sydney managed to eat about two-thirds of her plateful before admitting defeat. She put her cutlery down and picked up her napkin, surreptitiously checking out Harry as she dabbed delicately at her mouth. He was still demolishing his lunch and looking thoroughly happy to be doing so. It was nice to be able to study him fairly close up without him realising.
He really was worth looking at. His thick, slightly too-long hair; his eyes, an unusual blue-grey mix that twinkled with mischief; the laughter lines that surrounded them. She was suddenly very glad he had those laughter lines. Not only did they add to his charm, but she was pleased that even though he’d had a hard time of it, things weren’t all bad. He’d had enough smiles in his life to create those lines, and she really hoped that, together, they’d have even more.
‘More wine?’ she said, realising he’d finally finished his. Her second glass was still half full.
‘No, thanks,’ he said, holding his hand over the rim of his glass. ‘I don’t want to risk drink-driving. The French roads are dangerous enough when you’re sober. I’d love some water, though, if you don’t mind pouring it for me.’
‘Of course not,’ she replied, reaching for the carafe. ‘You carry on eating. I’m done, I’m afraid. That huge dish of deliciousness has defeated me.’
‘Nice alliteration.’
‘What can I say? I’ve got a way with words.’
‘Thanks,’ he said as she slid the glass of water towards him, picking it up and taking a gulp. Her gaze was drawn to his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down, and she was in danger of falling into a smutty daydream about him when he dragged her attention back to the present.
‘So, what do you want to do when we’re finished here?’ he asked.
I’d really like to go back to your place and get naked and horizontal was her first thought. She bit her lip to avoid the smirk that threatened to emerge, and tried to turn the gesture into looking like she was thinking. A few seconds later, she spoke, ‘I really don’t know. There’s just so much to do in Paris, and because I’ve never been before, I just don’t know where to start. What would you advise? You totally hit the nail on the head with the Notre-Dame and Shakespeare and Company. I loved them both.’
Harry put his cutlery down and swiped at his lips with a napkin. Then he reached for his water once more and drained the glass, letting out a satisfied sigh when he was done. ‘Hmm, you’re right. There really is lots to do. OK, indoors or outdoors?’
‘Umm, I guess it depends if it’s still sunny outside. If it is, I vote for outdoors.’
‘Good choice.’ He gestured to the member of staff behind the bar for the bill. The Frenchman gave a nod of understanding, then busied himself with some pieces of paper stuck on a spike, before eventually bringing a small leather folder over and placing it next to Harry.
‘
Merci
,’ Harry said. Directing his words at Sydney, he asked, ‘Do you want to take that bottle of wine? Maybe we can share the rest of it together at some point when I’m not driving.’
‘Yes, if you like. Though it’ll be a nuisance to carry.’
‘I’m sure they’ll give us a plastic bag or something.’
‘In that case, OK. But you’re carrying it.’
He chuckled. ‘No problem. But you might want to finish what you’ve got. I’m not pouring it back into the bottle!’
She narrowed her eyes at him and picked up her glass. ‘Are you trying to get me drunk?’
‘Absolutely not. I don’t want to have to carry an inebriated woman on the Métro. Why, you’re not a lightweight, are you?’
‘Fortunately for you, no.’ She sipped at the remainder of the golden liquid as Harry pulled Euros out of his wallet and placed them inside the leather folder. Instead of waiting for it to be collected, he stood and took it over to the bar. Sydney watched as they exchanged words – they weren’t audible across the room – and then the man produced a carrier bag from underneath the counter and passed it to Harry. Nods and smiles were given, then Harry returned to their table, triumphant.
‘Here we go, now we can enjoy the rest of it at our leisure. I’m pleased, as it’s bloody good wine.’
‘Agreed.’
‘OK, ready to go?’
She took a sip of her water, checked she had all her possessions with her, then moved to stand. Harry was beside her in the blink of an eye, helping her out of the chair. ‘Thank you,’ she said, flashing him a smile.
‘You’re welcome. Come on then, let’s go and see what the weather is doing. It’s just as changeable in Northern France as it is in Britain, so for all we know it could be snowing right now.’
Fortunately, it wasn’t snowing. The sun was out and shining brightly onto the Paris streets, and they made their way to the nearest Métro station. A couple of changes later, and they emerged from Concorde station and out into a massively busy area with roads that looked more like car parks, where cars, bikes – both motorised and with pedals – and Segways zipped around.
‘Christ,’ Sydney said, taking in the crazy scene. ‘Where exactly are we going, and how are we going to get there alive?’
‘We’re going to walk through the Tuileries Gardens down to The Louvre, if that’s OK? Maybe grab an ice cream and soak up some sun on the way down? And as for getting there, we’re going to use the crossings, and still run like hell.’
‘Oh, OK.’ She glanced down at her feet. ‘Thankfully I can run in these, because I don’t want to be road kill.’
He took her hand and squeezed it. ‘I wouldn’t let that happen to you. OK, come on, let’s go. I promise it’ll be worth it.’
They moved over to the nearest zebra crossing, and stood, hand in hand, at the edge of the pavement. Sydney soon realised just how insane it all was – some drivers stopped at the crossings, some didn’t, some went so fast that it appeared they weren’t going to stop, then braked at the last minute …
‘Fuck,’ she said, ‘are you sure we’re not going to end up as road kill?’
‘No, it’ll be fine. Just wait until there are a few more people waiting to cross, then hopefully the drivers will stop.’
‘OK,’ she said, though it was obvious she was going to do whatever he said. She didn’t want to be wandering alone in Paris – she had no idea where she was going, for starters. Plus it was much more fun exploring with someone else – particularly if they knew what they were talking about, and where to go.
‘Ready?’ he said, tightening his grip on her hand and leaning forward.
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘OK, go!’ With that, they scurried across half the road, then did the same again at the next crossing. A few minutes later they were free of the concrete jungle and heading into the Tuileries.
‘Wow,’ Sydney said, as they stood on the centre path that led further into the gardens. ‘This is gorgeous. And what’s that?’ She pointed at a huge stone arch right at the other end of the path.
‘Hang on, hang on. I’ll tell you what I know – which, I warn you, isn’t a great deal – as we go along.’
It was only when he squeezed her fingers she realised they were still holding hands. She, for one, couldn’t see any reason to stop either. ‘OK. You’re in charge, then.’
He cocked an eyebrow at her, and they started walking. There was so much to see – bars and cafés, statues, beautiful plants, and of course, lots of people. The place had a very laidback vibe; the men, women, and children they passed didn’t seem to be in a rush to get anywhere, and indeed, many had blankets or deckchairs and simply laid or sat soaking up the sun. Sydney decided it wasn’t a bad idea. She tipped her head back, enjoying the warming sensation on her skin. She’d always been a fan of that great big ball of fire in the sky, and had hoped to squeeze in some sunbathing or, at the very least, reading in the garden while she was away. She wondered if Harry had a decent garden at his place, because she certainly wasn’t going to get any peace and quiet at the barn.
‘Hey,’ Harry said gently, ‘want to stop and sit down for a bit?’
She looked back down and turned to him with a smile. ‘Yes, sounds good. I’m enjoying this sunshine.’
‘OK. We’ll see if there are any seats available at the pond.’
She didn’t know what he meant, but didn’t ask either. She figured she’d find out soon enough.
After a few minutes, as she’d expected, she discovered exactly what Harry had been talking about. For there, in front of them, was a large raised pond, surrounded by deckchairs. A pretty fountain sat in the middle, spurting water into the air. As it was such a beautiful day, predictably, many of the deckchairs were taken. But Lady Luck must have been shining down on them because a couple packed their bags up and left, and Sydney and Harry took their places immediately.
‘Phew,’ he said as he sunk into the seat, putting the carrier bag carefully on the ground, ‘that was lucky.’
‘It was. Anyone would think you had used the force to get them to move.’
Harry waggled his eyebrows. ‘Perhaps I did. You’ll never know. And if you try and tell anyone, I’ll use the force to stop you.’
She gave him a playful swipe on his arm, and he stuck his tongue out. Then, their silliness temporarily over, they sat back in their chairs and watched the world go by. The sun continued to beam down on them, people continued to feed the ducks and the pigeons in and around the pond, and the din of the surrounding city was muted, somehow, making it easy to forget it was there. Easy to think she was sitting beside a pond on a grand estate, right out in the countryside, at the end of a long drive and far away from everything.
Sighing contentedly, she shifted her bottom forward so she lay slightly flatter in the chair, clutching her bag to her stomach – Harry’s earlier comment about pickpockets had not gone unnoticed. Which is why she jumped so forcefully when a hand grasped hers. She jerked upright, squealed, her heart pounding painfully beneath her ribs. Even as all the reactions crashed through her, her brain realised just who had taken her hand, and it certainly wasn’t unwelcome.
Harry looked at her, an amused expression on his face. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you jump, but who the hell did you think it was?’
She pulled in a shaky breath. ‘It’s your bloody fault. All your talk of pickpockets has made me paranoid!’
‘All my talk? I mentioned it in passing, as a joke. And anyway, nobody would be able to pickpocket you with me sitting right here. They wouldn’t dare.’ He sat up straight and squared his shoulders. ‘See? I’m terrifying, me.’
‘Yes, I’m positively quaking in my boots,’ Sydney replied dryly. ‘But thanks anyway, I feel much better knowing you’re looking out for me.’
‘I’m doing more than that,’ he said quickly.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. I’m wishing I could kiss you.’
‘Oh …’
‘Can I?’
‘Now? Here?’
‘Why not? It’s pretty romantic.’
‘But people will see.’
‘No one will care. This is Paris – they’re all smutty and sex mad.’
‘Really? In that case, that would be lovely.’ She twisted her upper body to face him, leaning to meet him halfway. She kept her eyes open a little while, wanting to see his expression, but he quickly got so close he grew blurry, so she squeezed her lids shut. Opening her mouth slightly, a thrill ran through her as she felt his breath against her lips, then finally his mouth on hers. It was tentative at first – she remembered he was as out of practice as she was; even more so, in fact – then he grew more comfortable, more confident. His gentle movements grew more passionate, his lips taking hers as though he wanted nothing more in the world than to be kissing her. She certainly hoped that was the case, as it was the way she felt.
Eventually, the relatively chaste kisses were not enough. Harry slipped his hand around the back of her neck, pulled her harder onto him, and plunged his tongue between her lips. She had to work hard not to let a moan escape – she was sure the people around them were getting enough of a show without her making noises like she was in a porno. Instead, she shifted her own hand to mirror his, tangling her fingers into the thick hair at the nape of his neck and tugging it slightly.
He reacted by kissing her harder, his tongue slipping sensuously against hers, doing a little dance and exploring every sensitive millimetre of her mouth and lips. She was in serious danger of melting into a puddle of lust and being soaked up into the Parisian soil beneath them. Determined to hold her own, she kissed with as much fervour as he, forcing his tongue back into his mouth with hers and returning the favour.
Soon, she grew horribly aware that if they continued, they’d be likely to get carried away and end up being arrested for indecent exposure. Certainly, if they were in a private dwelling, she’d be itching to shove his jacket down his arms, then curl her fingers under the hem of his T-shirt and tug it off over his head. She was eager to get a better view of the slice of stomach and the dark hair that bisected it than the fairly distant peek she’d got from the barn conversion’s window the day before.
God, had it really only been a day since she’d met Harry? A day since her plans to write most of her planned novel had been blown to smithereens by the arrival of a bunch of noisy French builders? A day since he’d come into her retreat and apologised profusely, and made her uncomfortable with her attraction to him since he was married?
The swirling thoughts gave her serious pause, and she moved her hand to Harry’s shoulder and gently pushed him away.
‘W-what’s the matter?’ His pupils were dilated, grown large with lust, and his lips were swollen, showing serious signs of the kissing they’d just given and received.
‘N-nothing, it’s just …’ She tailed off and looked around, convinced they’d have a crowd standing around them, taking photographs and recordings on their mobile phones and broadcasting them to all the social networks. ‘I think things are probably going a little fast. We only met yesterday!’
A tiny line appeared between Harry’s eyebrows. ‘We were only kissing. There’s no law against it, is there?’
‘There was more intent behind what we were just doing, and you know it.’
He flopped back into the deckchair and ran his fingers through his hair, returning it to the crazy state it had been in when she’d first laid eyes on him the previous day. ‘You’re right.’ He offered her a sheepish grin. ‘What can I say? It’s been a while, and I fell upon you like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. But I’m not going to apologise. Maybe we are going too fast, but for some reason my heart and body lead my head when it comes to you, and I can’t help it. And honestly, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. We’ve both had a rough time of it, and we deserve some happiness, don’t you think?’