Page 41 of The Magic of Provence

She dressed in the jeans and top she’d thrown into her bag yesterday and went into the apartment’s living area.

Heidi was by her side in an instant, her tail waving. Christophe’s smile was just as welcoming but, my goodness, he looked as if he hadn’t slept at all. He was also wearing jeans, with sneakers and a black tee shirt, but his hair was rumpled and the lines around his eyes were far deeper than usual.

He looked absolutely gorgeous and that disconcerting flash of sensation that happened deep in her belly reminded Fi all too clearly of what it had been like to have Christophe looking at her as if he was her lover. And of what had happened in the garden last night.

That…kiss…

She could feel colour beginning to creep into her cheeks as she had to fight the urge to touch her lips with a fingertip, as she’d done when she’d been alone in her bed, as if she wanted to do more than remember that kiss. As if she wanted tofeelit again.

The start of it, anyway. Not the end. That had kept her awake for too long, afraid of the nightmares that could well be circling, like vultures just waiting for the opportunity to swoop. Finally, when she couldn’t fight her exhaustion any longer, she’d understood what that look that Christophe had given her straight after that kiss was all about.

He knew she’d been afraid.

He’d known exactly how to back off.

How to protect her.

Had she slept so surprisingly well because she still felt safe?

Fi hid her red cheeks by leaning down to cuddle Heidi, letting her hair screen her face. It gave her a chance to take a breath as well and try and stop the endless questions that had been popping into her head from the moment she’d woken up.

Would it be awkward between them this morning?

Had it ruined the bond that had been forming?

Were they going to talk about it?

Or were they going to keep pretending that that kiss had not happened, like they had during dinner last night?

That last option felt like the best one and it seemed like Christophe had already chosen to tick that box from any list he might have devised.

‘Coffee?’ he offered, his tone cheerful. ‘I’m onto my second already.’

‘Please. It smells wonderful.’

‘I have pastries too.’ He waved at paper bags on the dining table. ‘And bread. I took Heidi for an early walk and we went past a boulangerie that is also a patisserie, so I got some favourite treats to take in for Mamma and Nonna. Sweet things, like aragostine and cannoli.’

‘I only need coffee,’ Fi said. ‘With milk, please.’ She took the mug he handed her and took a sip. ‘What is Nonna’s favourite treat?’ she asked.

‘A chocolate and hazelnut aragostine. But she also loves a cannolo siciliani.’

‘I don’t know what either of those things are. They sound very Italian.’

‘They are. But so is Menton. You can walk along the coast to the Italian border from here in about thirty minutes. Menton is a perfect blend of France and Italy.’ Christophe’s smile was cheeky. ‘Like me.’

Aye… this was how it was going to be.

And, if Fi had been given the choice of exactly how shewantedit to be between them now, this would be it.

Playful – which implied both understanding of the significance and a promise of trust. Nothing bad was going to happen. Perhaps something even better was waiting in the wings.

The reset button had been pushed but the growing friendship had a totally new dimension. Yesterday, Fi had learned just how much Christophe loved his family as she’d shared the fear he’d faced of losing his grandmother. She knew that he had learned she had a fear of intimacy. That was enough to have deepened their friendship, but there was so much more to it than that.

The notes of that kiss were still hanging in the air, like dust motes caught in a sunbeam. Maybe they were the opening notes of a symphony that might have ended in a discordant jangle, but they’d been enough, in those first seconds, to cast a spell strong enough to stop time.

Something magic.

Fi might never hear – or feel – them again but she was never going to forget them.

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