Page 101 of The Last Kiss

“Snuggle up.” He motions me to get back into bed, while my gaze is drawn to the beautiful dress I should be wearing, draped over the back of a chair against the far wall.

“I’ll get crumbs in the bed.”

“Really?” His eyebrow does some major talking. “I’ve seen your flat. Crumbs aren’t an issue for you I think.”

“Ah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this.”

“What?” With a knife he wedges some pale crumbly cheese onto a plate, scattering some small tomatoes, grapes, and what look like small pickles. My stomach growls.

“Well, Barney. He’s going to be very cross when finds out you have a thing for dogs. It’s a betrayal of the highest order. I think he’ll break up with you.”

“William and Harold?” He passes me a plate and then brings his to his side of the bed and scoots under the sheets. “They’d adore him.”

“For breakfast.”

“Not all at once, they watch their weight.”

“Oh, well now you’re just being rude.”

Like the French sunshine he chases away the shadows lingering in my soul. “What do you think of the cheese?”

Thankfully I can breathe a little better, though I still feel exhausted. At least I feel like I can speak longer sentences now. “I haven’t got that far yet. Grapes come first.”

If anyone has ever looked more disappointed in me, I don’t remember. “Non, grapes with, not first.” He rattles off some disgruntled French I’m glad I can’t translate while I try to hold in my giggle.

“I know, I’m not a complete cheese novice. I just like to hear you talk French under your breath at me. It’s incredibly sexy.”

“Eat. Now.” His frown pulls at his eyebrows. “And then I’ll show you sexy.”

Ah. Oh my god. I’ve forgotten what I packed back in London. Well, if ever there was a time for stepping out of my comfort zone, tonight is the night, because tomorrow if I stick to my plan everything will change.

I wolf down some biscuits despite the fact my appetite is coming in at just about zero. Henri shakes his head in true dismay as I shovel in some cheese, nodding my appreciation.

“I need the loo,” I announce and manage to move slowly from the bed, taking a moment to grab a nondescript black bag from my suitcase.

Odile isn’t the only one who can hit the boutiques. Before I travelled I visited a Notting Hill lingerie shop. I’m still sandy and wearing the bikini—which I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to wear as long as I have been without it doing some damage to private areas. With a quick nip back to the bedroom with a, “Just forgot something,” in Henri’s direction, I pull my peacock diary and pen out of my suitcase before slipping back into the bathroom.

On a whim, I tug open the shower door and switch it on. While I wait for it to warm, I flick to my list at the beginning. It seems so stupid now to be keeping a record of all of these things, but it feels almost like I’m keeping a record of us, one for history. I write: Have sex in the sea, and then cross it out. Snapping the book shut, I jump in the shower, lathering myself in the lemon-scented gel he has on the shelf.

“Julianna?” There’s a shout through the door.

“I’m fine, give me five.”

He doesn’t answer, so I lift my face to the powerful jets. The hot water is soothing, restorative. I should probably be thinking of the words I’ll need to say tomorrow. I never thought I’d have to tell him, never knew that we’d get to this point. It was only ever meant to be a night of fun. But I guess that’s life. It steals up and surprises you when you least expect it, squirming into all the tight spaces that you thought you kept carefully locked. I’d spent so long forgetting to live, keeping below the radar, that I’d long forgotten there could be a spark in the veins that pushed you from one moment to the next with only a heartbeat between.

Life was simply a heartbeat. Love the silence between.

Out of the shower, I dry off and rub the rose-scented oil Liv’s gifted me over my skin until I glow like a brand-new penny. Then I slip on the black lace set I bought one rainy London afternoon. The bralette does something miraculous to my cleavage, the sheer shorts giving me curves I’ve never owned before. The woman in the shop had suggested a G-string, but hell, I was dying, I hadn’t lost my mind yet. The sun today has tinted my pale skin with a hint of gold, and thankfully no bacon streaks.

With my hand on the bathroom door my heartbeat races. Good race I think.

Come on, Julia. This is what this thing called life is all about.

Dragging in a breath, straightening my shoulder and swinging my hair out behind me, I yank open the door. Probably with more force than I need because it bounces off the bathroom wall making Henri jump as it slams tiles. “Sorry, I’ll fix the wall tomorrow if I’ve broken it.”

“And you’ll be wearing that when you do?” One of his brows quirks and he throws back the sheet revealing his naked perfection underneath.

“Only if you wear that.” I stalk for the bed, tossing my diary back in my suitcase as I pass.