Page 42 of Falling for Provence

‘Which is what makes this so perfect,’ he said. ‘You have your own life to go back to, and I will never try to replace Theo’s mother – for his sake or my own. It simply isn’t going to happen. This is a moment in our lifetimes thatwillnever happen again,ma chérie, so…on devrait en profiter tant que ça dure… we should enjoy it while it lasts.’

Ma chérie?Didn’t that mean ‘darling’? The tone of Julien’s voice certainly made it an endearment that sent a prickle of sensation from Ellie’s ears right down to her toes.

And Julien was right. Thiswasperfect.

What they had together had a shape. A beginning, a middle and, most importantly, an end.

And that made it safe.

Perhaps he could see relief inherface now, because he was smiling.

‘Have you been driving in your car yet?’ he asked, changing the subject as if it was no big deal to discuss the time frame of an affair.

‘The tin snail?’

‘The…’ Julien blinked. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

‘It’s the shape,’ Ellie said. ‘That’s what Mike the builder said they used to call them, because they look like snails.’

‘Ah…un escargot. I see that.’ Julien laughed. ‘Perhaps you should call her Margot?’

‘Margot theescargot?’ Ellie was laughing now, too. ‘I love it.’

Their laughter was lost amongst the sounds of the restaurant, but Ellie knew she would hear the echoes of it later.

You could fall in love so easily with a man who could make you laugh.

Maybe she already had – just a little bit.

Because it wasn’t going to last very long, and that made it so much safer.

Her house.

Her room.

Her bed.

It was the choice Ellie would have made because this was her safe place in this new, very different life, and there was still enough of an edge of danger in doing this to make it daunting. So daunting that the butterflies in her stomach were battering themselves senseless by the time Julien had driven them home, and it was impossible to find the words to tell him she didn’t want to go to his house.

And she didn’t need to.

It seemed that Julien knew where she would feel most safe. That he knew there was a fine line between wanting this and being scared enough to run from it. That had to be why he paused just inside her front door, holding her gaze with his own. Why he reached out to touch her face, stroking her cheek with his fingers before cupping her chin gently, bending his head as her eyes drifted shut, to touch her lips with his.

A soft touch. A question that needed no words.

Did she want this?

As much as he did?

Oh…yes…

This was the point that Ellie had anticipated above all else. The moment when it was absolutely clear that this was whatthey both wanted. The moment when the need to touch – and be touched – could be released from any restraints. After being stoked so slowly by sharing a long, summer evening of food and laughter and being so physically close without being able to touch, Ellie had been sure that, given its freedom, anticipation would explode into reality as an uncontrollable force.

She couldn’t have been more wrong. and it couldn’t have been any more perfect because of that. Instead of passionate flames that would burn themselves out far too quickly, it seemed that time slowed to a point where its passage became meaningless. Every moment stretched far enough to be aware of details that Ellie might never have thought of before, and each one of those impressions added to an intensity that was unprecedented.

She could hear the rub of fabric as Julien undid the tiny buttons on the front of her dress, and she could feel goosebumps forming on her skin as she felt his breath on the side of her neck. His lips found hers again at the same moment the pad of his thumb stroked one of her nipples through the lace of her bra, making it harden so fast it almost hurt. The sound that escaped Ellie’s mouth was a mixture of ecstasy and a need so deep she had no idea where it came from.

She pressed into the hand cupping her breast, but she could feel the chill of his warmth leaving her skin, and she pulled away from the kiss to search his face. Oh, God… it would be unbearable if he’d changed his mind.

---