Page 53 of Falling for Provence

‘My bad,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve never, ever done this before.’

Julien’s foot moved to stroke her thigh as they both took a sip of their wine, studying each other’s face over the rim of the glasses.

‘And is it good?’

‘I like it,’ Ellie smiled. ‘Apart from the taps.’

‘Ah…’ Julien took their glasses and put them on the floor beside the bath. ‘Turn around,’ he commanded. ‘So you have your back to me.’

The candles flickered and small waves threatened to splash over the rim of the tub as Ellie turned herself around. Julien put his arms around her and drew her against his body, where she nestled between his legs. When she tilted her head back to rest it in the dip just under his collar bone she could look up and see his face.

He wasn’t looking down at her. He was reaching behind him now, to where the lavender-scented soap she had bought in Tourrettes-sur-Loup was sitting, along with an artificial spray of lavender bloom, in the small ceramic saucer that had come with it. She had a heartbeat to simply soak in the profile of his face, feeling his skin slip against hers at the same time. She was also feeling something very similar to that overwhelming rush of emotion she had been reintroduced to only a matter of hours ago. That warm, liquid, totally heart-melting sensation of pure love.

The words almost escaped her.

I love you, Julien…

But Ellie pressed her lips together to stop them being heard. Because she didn’t want to spoil this moment by reminding himof what he’d lost in his life. By creating an echo of what his wife must have told him a thousand times.

Besides, coherent words were about to get a lot harder to find. Julien had soaped his hands and placed them on her shoulders and was stroking them down the front of her body to cover and outline the shape of her breasts, just above the level of the water in the bath. He bent his head at the same time, and she could feel his lips and his tongue against her neck.

Her breath came out in a sigh that became a groan of pleasure as one of Julien’s hands slipped below the level of the water so that his touch became breathtakingly intimate. He knew exactly where to find what he knew would coax her over the edge very quickly, but she knew he was probably just teasing her a little now. He had a gift for taking her right to that edge and then slowing things down so that, the next time, it would become even more intense.

It felt like he had the ability to slow down time itself. Ellie could only hope that when it was her turn to give him this kind of pleasure – which might have to wait until they were out of the bath and in her bed – he would feel the same way. As if, for whatever time they had together, the outside world ceased to exist and the passage of time became completely irrelevant.

Le train-train?

Aye… that was going to be a joke for ever, because this was so special that Ellie knew she was never going to find it again.

18

Julien stayed away from La Maisonettewhile Ellie’s sister was visiting.

Had that been because he didn’t want to watch them getting ready to sell the house, which would make the ticking of that clock feel even louder? Or was it that meeting a member of her family might make it feel that things between them were more significant than they were and would mean it was time to escape?

Julien wasn’t ready to escape.

Not yet. Not until he had to.

Sitting on this terrace with Ellie close enough to touch without even having to reach for her, savouring the last drops of an excellent glass of wine, with a small, white dog sound asleep in shade that was merging with the fading light of sunset, was…

It was perfect, that’s what it was.

It felt like Julien had come home after being away for too long, which was strange because it had only been a couple of days.

Not that he was about to try and analyse why it felt like this. He simply wanted to enjoy it.

‘So it was good? To have your sister here? She must have been very happy with what you’ve done to the house.’

‘She was.’ Ellie opened a big envelope that was on the table. ‘She printed out some of the photographs she took while she was here. Look… here’s one of the donkeys asleep under the olive trees. And one of my bicycle.’

Julien smiled, remembering the day that Ellie had fallen off that bicycle because Pascal had run out in front of her. He, shifted his hand just enough to brush the skin of her arm with the back of his hand. He knew it would still be there. The sensation that was like a faint electric current. Something he’d never felt with any other woman, no matter how attracted to them he’d been.

But this was Ellie.

And she was different.

‘Here’s one of Margot. And I love these close-ups of the flowers on the front door, and the door-knocker.’

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