Page 97 of The Last Kiss

He drops the towel and I’m momentarily distracted from the shopping bags. That man is built and let there be no forgetting it. It’s porno heaven where I’m standing right now. All I need is some cheesy music and I’d be right in the zone.

“Things, for you.”

“Me?” Gah, now I’m torn between ‘things for me’ and porno heaven. “Did they magic their way here?” With a reluctant sigh, I step towards the bags leaving his beautifully carved body behind me. Let’s be sensible here, we do need to leave this room eventually. Otherwise, his mother will have more to say, and I would like to make it through the evening meal tonight.

“Non, I asked Odile to pick up some things for you.”

I can feel the blood drain from my face. “She came in, while we were in there,” I point to the bathroom, “And I was making that noise.”

Shooting me with a devilish grin he nods to the bags. “Look inside.”

“But wait. We need to talk about this. Is your room always a free for all?”

He laughs and drills me with a really glance. So maybe this is how they do things in France? Deciding it’s not worth wasting precious moments on, I pounce on the small shopping bags. Mmm, they even feel expensive, a delicate scent of rose coming from inside. “For me?” I confirm.

“Yes.” I earn the cutest eye roll I’ve ever seen. “Are you not used to receiving gifts, ma petite?”

A lead weight drops in my stomach. “No, not really,” I answer honestly.

“Hmm, that will have to change.” Stepping closer, he lifts the remaining bag still on the bed. “Although I think this has become a bigger thing than the contents deserve. Next time I’ll make it spectacular.”

My familiar ice-cream scoop hollows me out, leaving me with that empty Henri-flavoured emptiness. “Next time, you’ll have to go to the shop yourself, non?” I mimic the lilt and melody of his speech earning a kiss under my ear.

“I’m ageing here, Julianna.”

Dipping my fingers inside, I scrunch them onto tissue paper, soft and crinkly. With a pout I pull it free of the small bag. It’s a masterpiece of wrapping and I’m reluctant to tear the careful folds, sighing in dismay as Henri grasps the pale pink folded package in his large hand and tears where a small heart-shaped sticker is keeping it all together. “Brute,” I grumble under my breath but sweeten it with a smile.

A gold bikini tumbles out, shining like a disco ball in the sunlight.

At least I think it’s a bikini. Not one like I’ve ever worn. “What is this?” I breathe out.

“Swimwear. You told me you didn’t pack any.”

It dangles in my fingers, four triangles and some elastic.

“So, I organised.”

“Organised some dental floss?” I lift it closer to my face.

“Dental floss?” His face clouds with confusion as he thinks this over for a moment. Finally, the clouds lift leaving a smile of pure sunshine behind. Leaning over, he snatches it out of my hands and inspects the triangle meant to cover a derrière.

“Well, ma petite, I do not know what you floss with.” He gives the elastic an approving ping. “You will look sensational in this; not that I plan on anyone else seeing you."

I can’t help but assess the bikini with scrutiny. “This is as foreign to me as the language you speak.” I state, which he must find amusing because he pulls me in and kisses the top of my head. “Now hurry, Julianna, otherwise it will be dark before we get there!”

He has a point. We’ve spent so long doing absolutely nothing that surely the day must be over. “Aren’t we too late for the beach now?” I ask, practically breathing a sigh of relief at not having to slink myself into bronzed triangles.

“Only if you're British and need to lay your towel down on the sand to secure your space.” He winks.

Ha bloody ha!

“For the record it’s the German's that started that trend.”

“Sure, ma petite, now get changed.”

“But what about the other bag?” I ask. With a deafening sigh he tips the contents out onto the bed.

“Oh.” I give a little sigh of my own as I pick up the slither of blue silk that’s pooled into a puddle on the bed.