Page 17 of Madam Alana

His shoulders fell and he tilted his head as thoughresigned. “Then we will both be sad, because we will have lost what could havebeen the greatest love of all time.”

Suddenly he uncurled his legs, stood, and came around thebed where I had slowly crept into a ball, just then realizing I’d scrunched myknees up to my chest protectively. He leaned down, curled a finger under mychin, and pressed his lips to mine.

It was a soft, barely there press of his mouth, but I feltit ease the ache of my contorted position.

“I will call room service and have them deliver an Americanbreakfast. I love how big and boldly Americans do things. Especially theirfood. It’smagnifique, non?” he asked, positively giddy at the idea.

I nodded. “I’m not a picky eater. Anything is fine.”

“This is good. We are the same. See, my wife,” he said andkissed me again, keeping his face only a few inches from my own, “we alreadyhave things in common.” He smiled, pecked me a third time, and then stood.“I’ll leave you to gather your thoughts and wait for you in the living space. Ihave a fun idea for our second date.”

The heaviness of our intense discussion moments ago was justgone, slipping into the ether as if it was all the same to him. While theechoes of what he’d said—and more,what he’d drawn—still bubbleduncomfortably within me.

It was incredible how heartfelt and powerful conversationsbetween us could be and then suddenly disappear into a light, playful manneronly moments later.

I wondered if I’d ever get used to the extremes when it cameto Christophe.

“Second date?” I called out as he reached the bedroom door.

“Oui. Last night was our first. Today is oursecond. I am courting you properly as a woman of your stature, intelligence,and beauty deserves. Dress comfortably,” he said with a flourish and left theroom.

He was going to court me.

Why? He’d already purchased me—signed, sealed, anddelivered. He didn’t need to earn my favor.

Perhaps he wants to earn your favor, Alana?

I eased out of bed, went to my suitcase, and removed my bestpair of denim jeans and a beautiful forest-green sweater. Celine and I hadpurchased matching ones as our combined birthdaypresentslast year. We’d gotten them in a buy one, get one sale and had received manycompliments asking if we were sisters when we’d worn them. It was a goodmemory, and I decided I’d take that happy feeling and the anticipation of goingon a second date with my husband into this new day.

The first day of my new life.

Chapter 7

SecondDate

“Alana! The food is getting cold,cheri!”Christophe called from the other room.

I’d taken my time showering and dressing in jeans and asweater. I grabbed socks and a pair of tennis shoes along with my sandals andbrought them into the living space. Christophe was pulling metal dome coveringsoff ofa series of dishes that were displayed on thelarge dining table that could seat eight.

He was beaming with energy this morning as he shimmiedaround the table assessing the options. “Look at all of this! So many wonderfulchoices,non? Grab your plate and load up. We have a long, excitingday ahead of us!”

“Really?” I set my shoes on the floor near the wall sothey’d be out of the way. I’d ask him which would be more appropriate after weate.

Christophe handed me a warm ceramic plate. I hadn’t theslightest clue how it was kept hot. Then again, a lot of things about highsociety—especially hotel dining—were foreign to me.

I watched as my husband eagerly plopped two pancakes in thecenter of his plate. Then he added sausage links, a few slices of bacon, abiscuit, and a scoop of scrambled eggs but skipped the fruit, yogurt, andgranola completely. “Americans!” he exclaimed with awe. “They really know howto do breakfast.”

I giggled, enjoying seeing his delight with everything setbefore him. He had been the same at dinner. Each new thing presented to him wasan opportunity, not a hardship. I hoped I too could learn to take things asthey came instead of analyzing and worrying about the potential downside. Lifehad trained me to be leery of anything pleasant. There was always a dark side.Christophe, however, seemed determined to live in the light. Maybe some of thatwould rub off on me during our time together.

Christophe pulled out a chair for me and nodded as his mouthwas full of bacon, the edge of one crispy piece sticking halfway out.

“You couldn’t even wait to sit down before stuffing yourface!” I laughed, then promptly snapped my mouth shut, worried I’d spoken outof turn. My palms became clammy as I chanced a glance at him.

He shook his head in a silly manner, the piece moving withhim as he put on a show. I couldn’t help but laugh even harder. The nervousnessof my outburst dissipated instantly at his playful demeanor.

Christophe bit down on the bacon and held the remaining bitbetween two fingers. “I couldn’t wait. It smelled so good!”

“You love food,” I surmised as I added one pancake, a smallscoop of eggs, two slices of bacon, and two sausage links before also ploppinga couple strawberries, a little quartet of grapes, and a dollop of yogurt allonto my plate.

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