Chapter 5
Wedded Bliss
Christophe held the door open so that I could enter the restaurant before him, keeping a gentle hand on my lower back.
“Christophe!” A young man in his late twenties cheered when we entered. “When did you get into town?” He approached, arms open wide in greeting.
“Bobby!” My husband hugged the man outright, clapping him on the back as though they’d been friends for years. Perhaps they had.
“Just last night,” Christophe answered as he turned to me. “I want you to meet my wife, Alana.”
“Wife?” The man grinned and reached a hand out to me. “Pleasure to meet you.”
I shook his hand swiftly and then silently stood, letting them catch up.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Bobby took in our wedding attire. “I didn’t know if you had marriage in you!”
Christophe shrugged. “Got married tonight in fact. Spur of the moment thing. When you know, you know,” he answered, then put his arm around my shoulders and tucked me to his side rather protectively. Surprisingly, I felt safer in his arms than I had moments ago. Actually, I felt more protected within his hold than I had in years.
There was something to be said about having your person. The one who made you feel safe. It was just that my person had always been Celine. My stomach tightened with worry for my friend. I hoped with my entire being that she was being treated as well as I was. Especially after I’d heard those nasty things the man who bid on her had said earlier at the auction.
“I can relate. I fell all over myself in love with my wife when we met. And now we’re planning to try for a baby.”
“Bravo! I wish you the best of luck growing your family. Will you plan to bring your child into the business?” Christophe gestured around the restaurant.
“God willing,” Bobby said with ecstatic emphasis. “Come, come! I’ve got my best table available in the back with a view of our courtyard and added privacy for VIPs.” He snapped his fingers to gain someone’s attention from across the room who was pouring drinks at a bar. “A bottle of our best champagne for the happy couple,” he called out.
“You are too kind, my friend. Merci .” Christophe thanked him, holding me close as we followed the man, who I gathered was the owner, to the table.
“She is very beautiful,” the man said, his voice low as he dipped his head toward Christophe while I scooted along the curved seat of the private booth.
“I have met none even close to my wife,” Christophe boasted out loud while he sat, making sure his body was flush with my own, his long arm resting on the back of the seat behind me so that I was once more hugged to his side.
“Here are the menus, but I would be honored to craft a wedding dinner fit for royalty.” Bobby lifted his chin and bowed regally.
Christophe looked to me for a decision—something I hadn’t expected. “Would you like that, Alana? To have the owner and head chef surprise us with our first meal as a married couple?”
I had zero dislikes when it came to food. When you were poor, often going days without eating, a three-day-old, half-eaten hamburger plucked from the garbage behind a restaurant was a great find. A uniquely catered meal by an Italian chef who owned and operated his own business…a boon. I’d never turn down such an opportunity.
“Thank you. I’m delighted to accept such a generous offer,” I smiled.
“Fantastic!”
A woman from the bar behind him approached, carrying a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and two crystal flutes on a tray. Bobby set the glasses before us and poured them half full. “I shall return soon with the first course,” he stated and then was off, disappearing behind a set of double doors.
Christophe pressed a glass into my hands and held his aloft. “To years of wedded bliss.”
My heart beat wildly in my chest as I lifted the glass. “Wedded bliss.” I clinked his with mine, then stared into his swirling hazel eyes as I sipped.
He drank the entire glass, then refilled his. “Okay, cheri . Tell me everything there is to know about you. And don’t leave a single detail out.” He took my hand and kissed my fingertips, waiting patiently for me to respond with my life’s story.
Only he didn’t know that my story was not a pretty one. It wasn’t even a happy one. There were moments of good, more of bad, but mostly my life had consisted of trying to simply exist in a world where I wasn’t seen as important or worthy. Not by my mother, my real father, the orphanage, or any of the horrible people I’d met over the years. Not until Celine had I felt even remotely human.
I slowly licked my lips, trying to buy time. “What, um, do you want to know?” I tried to narrow down his request. The last thing I wanted to do was anger my new husband by sharing the wrong things. People didn’t want to know about another’s struggles and sacrifices. At least they hadn’t when it came to me. Aside from Celine. We knew everything about one another, but that had been earned over time and through shared experiences. I wasn’t about to lay out my history for a man I’d only known for a couple of hours, lest he want to give me back to Angus. I didn’t want him to worry I would be too much work for him. I was still uncertain that he wouldn’t ask for a refund.
“Start with your family history,” Christophe stated.
“Well, I’m originally from South Korea, though my ethnicity is half South Korean, half Irish and German.”
“Beautiful combination with a stunning result.” He reached out and ran a hand down the back of my hair as though I was precious, something to be fawned over. I didn’t understand it, but I wasn’t going to deter him from thinking otherwise.
“My mother abandoned me when I was twelve to an all-girls orphanage. Then shortly after the orphanage was taken over by the government, I ended up in New York City. A peace mission of sorts, I think. I don’t know all the details as I was young and terrified, and no one shared the plan with us. However, I had no other place to go. I was handed a passport with my name and picture on it and followed the line of children where we were told to go. We were refugees once we arrived in the States and, uh…”
Christophe frowned deeply, the first I’d seen him look upset.
My throat went dry, so I reached for the champagne and drank, clearing the ugly feelings that retelling even bits and pieces of my story brought forth.
“Continue, Alana. Even if it is hard. I will help carry this weight for you, cheri .”
He couldn’t be real. No one wanted a homeless refugee who’d been abused in every possible way. He’d figure it out, but maybe not before I’d proved to him that I could be the perfect wife. I’d bend over backward to show my gratitude at the new opportunities a marriage to him had already given me. I would figure out what it meant to be his muse and I’d keep it going as long as possible, or until the five years were up.
“Well, unfortunately, where we ended up wasn’t a good place. I ultimately left on my own, preferring the streets of New York. There I met my best friend, Celine. She was in the auction too. Actually, I believe your friend married her this evening.”
Christophe perked up suddenly. “ Oui ! An associate of mine, Darren Holt, a great collector of my art, invited me on this journey. He is the reason I was at the event. Though I will admit to being surprised that the art we were bidding on was human beings. He assured me it was all legal, and I’ve since sent the contract to my attorneys back in France. They agreed that the marriage and situation is unusual but technically legal in Nevada. Thus, you should know, I, too, am taking this one step and day at a time. We are in this new relationship and adventure together, Alana. You have nothing to fear from me. I assure you, I am an honorable man.”
“And your associate? The one who married Celine. What about him?”
“I do not know him in a personal manner. He is a great collector of many things. And because I was blocked artistically, I thought it might be interesting to attend an art instillation. See if it would stir my muse to life. And there you were. A living, breathing, perfect woman with sad, soulful eyes, a lithe but curvy shape that spoke to the male in me, and an aura that stole the very breath from my body. Just being in your presence now, mon coeur , is bringing me back to life. Do you feel the connection between us simmering under the surface?”
“Honestly, I am feeling a lot of things I do not yet understand,” I admitted. There was something brewing between us. An energy that made my nerve endings tingle. An anticipatory sprinkling of buzzing electricity one might feel when standing on the very edge of a cliff. The wind jostling you just enough to strike fear because of the risk of falling, but also relief in equal measure when you didn’t fall and were safe.
“Fair enough.”
“Would it be possible at some point in the future to contact your associate so that I may check on my friend?”
“ Oui . I see no problem with that. We will call tomorrow. Allow them and us to have our wedding nights, then we will see about how your Celine is faring. I’m sure all is well.”
He responded sweetly with extreme confidence. For the first time, I beamed with enough joy to light up an entire block of buildings. He was going to let me talk to Celine.
Christophe gasped. “There, that expression… A thousand emperors of centuries past have fallen to their knees for the privilege of such a response from their beloved. You honor me this day.” He took my hand, turned it over, and placed a kiss to my palm. The weight of that single press of his lips imprinted on me. Changed me in ways I couldn’t yet decipher.
I held my breath as he lifted his head, that earthy gaze meeting mine. A thrill of excitement raced through my veins and my entire body became inflamed with heat and arousal. Everything Christophe presented to me was the exact opposite of every man I’d interacted with prior. And I realized I had been looking at Christophe through a dirty window, judging him based on the sins of other males who had come before.
I vowed then and there to stop doing that. If Christophe said something to me, I’d take it at face value or ask for clarification. He’d already earned my respect by being so forthcoming, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t be cautious. People had convinced me of their altruistic nature before only to turn around and stab me in the back. I would give my husband the benefit of the doubt. Innocent until proven guilty.
“I’d very much like to speak with Celine tomorrow. Thank you, Christophe, for your continued kindness.”
Bobby set down a tray loaded with food.
“A caprese salad to start consisting of arugula, spinach, and Roma tomatoes paired with fresh mozzarella and my own homemade olive oil and balsamic dressing topped with shredded basil. And bread just out of the oven.” He set a small loaf and a serrated knife down on a cutting board.
“Looks delicious.” I admired the beautiful display as my stomach growled.
“I’ll leave you until the next course,” Bobby announced and left as quickly as he’d arrived.
The restaurant was packed with patrons drinking and laughing, their tables loaded with food. I could see why my husband was taken with the place.
Christophe cut me a hunk of bread and set it on a small plate. “Dig in. The one thing I know about Robert Marino is that he does not do things by halves. We will need our driver to roll us out of here after we eat our fill of however many courses he has planned.”
I chuckled, and pictured us in our wedding attire, waddling out the door patting our stuffed bellies. “A good problem to have.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He took a huge bite of the soft, warm bread.
“Tell me about you, husband. About your life in France,” I asked, then munched on a bite of the mozzarella, holding back a moan of appreciation at the burst of flavors on my tongue.
“Let’s see. I was born and raised in France. An only child of parents who were already late in their forties when they had me. They have since passed on. Smokers, both of them.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Were you close with them?”
He nodded. “The first loves of my life. Great parents. Supported me in everything I wanted to do. They did very well for themselves, leaving me a fortune which was great since I preferred art over university.” He grinned. “However, my first gallery showing took off. Everything sold. I was only fifteen at the time. My parents got me representation and used their influence in business to help grow my outreach. My next show also sold out in minutes for top dollar. Every last piece. It has been that way for the past ten years. Now I only have to create a single piece and it goes for millions.”
“Wow. What kind of art do you create?” I couldn’t fathom creating something that would sell for hundreds of dollars, let alone millions.
“Most of my focus is on large scale sculptures that are commissioned for a specific need. The grand opening of a hotel or an opera house. A reckless billionaire who fancies my work.” He smirked. “I also do smaller pieces for collectors. I love to paint in all mediums when I feel the need, though sculpting owns my soul. But, as I mentioned, over the past year I lost my way. The art was poof !” He let his plump lips pop while he looked dreamily across our seats to the window featuring the courtyard view. “Then I saw my muse and married her. And here we are.”
“Yes, here we are. Two strangers coming together for entirely different reasons. How will it ever work?” I wondered out loud. Mentally I chastised myself, worrying he might think me ungrateful.
“It is already working,” he blurted emphatically. “I’m eating fine Italian food and sipping champagne while gazing at my gorgeous wife. I have the desire in my bones to create when we return home. I’d say things have played out quite well.”
“Are you always this positive?”
“Life is filled with an endless number of highs, lows, challenges, and obstacles. It’s how you maneuver those things and who you take that path with that make it worthwhile, non ?” His lips twitched, and I boldly reached out and cupped his jaw, tracing his mouth with my thumb, needing to feel that positivity firsthand.
“Are you real? Am I dreaming?” I whispered.
“No, mon coeur , you are falling. Falling into the life you were meant to have. Tumbling headfirst into the unknown with me by your side to keep you from ever hitting bottom. Trust me to keep you safe. Together we’ll fly, letting each new day take us where it wants to go.”
“You’re very poetic, but none of this seems possible. Men like you don’t carry women like me off into the sunset. It’s just not done.”
“Then I will prove it to you.” He interlaced our hands, palm to palm. That electric connection swirled at the place our skin pressed together. “All I ask is that you give us a chance. Welcome me into your heart, as I have already given you mine for safe keeping. Let the seed of our connection grow into something magnificent.”
I was scared to commit, but I was more frightened of never having this chance again.
Could it be fate that had brought us together? Divine intervention? I didn’t know. All I could do was…try.
“I will try. For you, Christophe, I will try.”