Page 82 of The Last Kiss

Ah, wrong thing to say. His expression clouds. “You look tired.”

“Being here will help.”

Another sweeping gaze runs across my pale skin. “I’m going to feed you up, tan you at the beach, and make you so tired every night you’ll sleep like a princess.”

A laugh blasts from my chest. “You make me sound like a project.”

He’s not laughing. “I can see the changes in you, Julia.” The way he says my name makes me warm and gooey. Shuulia. “I know it’s been weeks, but it’s not that long since I was last with you.”

“I’m here now. You can feed me up like a Christmas turkey.”

“Goose,” he corrects and we both pull faces at one another’s choice of festive meal. Maybe it’s a good job that I won’t make it until then. The thought catches me unawares, simply, sneaking in—if I wasn’t dying then I can’t think of any future Christmases without him at my side.

It’s earth-shattering, blasting from nowhere.

This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life. To fall in love just in time to break my own heart. That’s going to hurt.

To my surprise, Henri pulls the car over onto a small and uneven layby at the side of the road. “What are you doing?”

Twisting towards me, he catches my face in his hands. “What are you thinking of?”

With a smile, I lean forward and kiss his mouth. “Nothing, just that I’m pleased I’m here. I don’t do things like this, it’s not who I am. Getting on that plane, it took all my guts.” And determination, and obsessive need to see you one last time.

“You look so sad, Julia, and it breaks my heart.”

“I’m not sad, I promise. Right now, I’m filled with joy, the utter joy of being here in this beautiful place, in the moment with you. I’ve missed you more than I can say, Henri. It felt so stupid because we were only ever a one-night stand that became two, that became…”

His hands cradle my face. “Became everything? Unexpected but true, no?”

“Yes, but I hardly know you. All I know is the bits I’ve seen. We’ve spent more time kissing than we have talking. It makes all of it seem like a fairy tale.”

“Aren’t fairy tales the best? Aren’t you pleased that we haven’t met in the mundane and boring way that will make for a dull tale to retell? Fate played a hand in this. Whether you believe in fairy tales that’s a mighty thing.”

“You really believe that? About fate?”

He nods, face solemn and so beautiful it makes the landscape dull in comparison. “You want to know things about me, and believe me, I want to spend all our time getting to know you. But you can’t keep blocking what this is. Oui, we met by chance, but every man’s destiny is his own.”

My head drops as I try to force the sadness out of my heart. Live, Julia. Just damn well live. Though I know it’s unfair for me to not tell Henri the truth, I just want to experience that living a little while. Because while he will recover from my not being honest from the beginning with time, I only have now.

With his fingertip he forces my gaze to meet his. “And the first thing to know about me is that,” slowly, he turns my head, “is my home.”

I blink in surprise, exhaling, “What the fuck?” with my breath. Holy shit balls.

“You live in a castle?” I breathe out my words, making Henri snigger and kiss the top of my head like I’m an adorable child.

“It’s a chateau. We don’t have castles in France, and we don’t live in the whole thing anymore. Come, you will see.”

Grinning, he fires the engine again, the vibrations running beneath my thighs.

“I thought you lived on a farm. You said you make cheese.”

“I do make cheese, ma petite. The very best cheese.”

Eventually, we turn off the winding road down a sun-baked driveway. The air is fresh with pine needles, tall trees standing sentry and dappling the road into splotches of light and shade. The drive curves into a circle in front of the grand fascia of the building, complete with fountain to drive around. I’m drawn away on a dream of balmy nights, carriages circling sparkling water as guests walk up the wide stone steps to the entrance in their finest ball gowns. “Henri,” I whisper so low I’m not sure if I’m talking out loud. “It’s so beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

A couple walk down the front steps, arms linked around one another, skin sun kissed. Everyone here is beautiful; it makes me feel drab and grey like London. “Who are they?”

I turn to see his shrug. “Guests.” His smile turns cheeky. “We don’t live in the whole building anymore. Maman converted it into a holiday destination thirty years ago, when she decided that being married to a cheese man wasn’t going to provide the life stimuli she required.”