Chapter 9

The Golden Hour.

The hour before sunset which, like the hour after dawn, was the best time to take photographs.

On this summer evening in the South of France, the sun wouldn’t dip below the horizon until nearly nine.

This was the time when the light became magical, gilding everything it touched, albeit briefly, as the sky began glowing in shades of gold and red and orange.

It was already softening any imperfections and making the world a warmer, softer place to be in.

It was always Sophie Spencer’s favourite time of day but it was especially lovely this evening, as it put the finishing touches on a wedding that had been nothing short of perfection.

The Chateau de la Chèvre d’Or in the medieval village of èze was one of the most luxurious – and expensive – venues available and it couldn’t have been a better choice for the first occasion that Le Phénix was acting as Marry Me in Provence’s official photographer.

Not just because the fee should be enough to convince Luc it was well worth his while to work with Sophie but because the extraordinary surroundings and view from this part of the gardens was absolutely stunning.

It was more than the relief that the chaos of the last couple of weeks was receding and there was light at the end of what had been a scary tunnel.

It was more than a privilege to be here.

It was an absolute joy.

The side of the cliff at the edge of this village was steep but it had been expertly terraced with boutique lush green lawns, stone pathways and staircases, gardens, waterfalls and secret spaces that celebrated an outlook that made the Mediterranean Sea, far below them, look infinite.

The dark shapes of the land masses that were Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat and Cap d’Antibes in the far distance broke the coastline of the midnight-blue sea.

Glowing white stripes were the wakes of superyachts, probably heading back to a berth in Monte Carlo or Saint Tropez so that their passengers could enjoy a different kind of fun on land.

Sophie knew, beyond any shadow of doubt, that Luc was also having fun.

The formalities of the day were done. The preparations of the bride and groom.

The arrival of guests for this small but exquisite event.

The exchange of vows under a rotunda with beautiful floral garlands wound around its pillars and the formal photographs of the wedding party and guests.

The cocktail party reception was in full swing but dinner was still an hour away and the newlyweds had excused themselves with their photographer and slipped back out into the garden for a short time.

They had envisaged some romantic shots, silhouetted against the dramatic sunset.

But what was actually happening was completely unscripted.

This rather dignified, very elegant but somewhat shy couple had kicked off their shoes and were having fun amongst the extraordinary life-sized animal sculptures that these gardens were famous for.

They were possibly breaking rules, even, Sophie thought, as she looked over the stone wall on to the lush grassed terrace below where she was standing with the elephant family.

The groom had lifted his petite bride on to the back of a bronze horse and a puff of sea breeze was lifting her veil.

She had her head tipped back in laughter, the sky was a dramatic shade of tangerine behind her and Sophie could see that Luc was trying to capture every angle as the light shifted in its slow dance out the door.

It looked like a perfect photo. Until Luc said something to the groom and he lifted his arms to help his bride slide down from the horse’s back.

Sophie couldn’t tell if Luc had given a quiet instruction or the couple had simply been so struck by what they saw in each other’s eyes that the moment froze.

He was holding her weight, with his hands cradling her ribcage.

She had her hands out, anticipating the moment they could slide around his neck as he lowered her to the grass.

He was looking up, her gaze was locked with his and the sky was softening behind them into a peachy pink.

The light made it impossible to see the expressions on their faces as the laughter faded into something far more intense.

This was going to be the photo. One that might well end up in a sterling silver heart-shaped frame on a bedside table because it would be a reminder of a perfect moment in time. Where love was powerful enough to have made the whole world around them disappear.

Sophie knew that gaze between them would be like an intimate, physical touch.

She could feel it.

Because she’d felt it herself. Only once but that had been enough to remember it forever.

More than enough.

Had Luc somehow sensed where her thoughts were going?

Back to the lunch they’d had in Nice. When she’d only just managed to escape from a reminder of that moment in her own past before it completely did her head in?

Or was it no more than a coincidence that he happened to look up right then, his gaze going unerringly straight to where Sophie was standing, looking down at him.

It almost felt as if he were holding her in the air above him and she was under the same spell as her shy bride.

Luc’s eyes would have been black from this distance without the fading light. His face would probably be this serious whenever he was focussed on his work but Sophie could catch a note of something that made her heart ache.

Something poignant, like longing. Or a stab of grief?

Another ripple of laughter broke the moment.

Hand in hand, the couple were making their next move in this delightfully unexpected game, heading for the fountain that was a spiral of frolicking dolphins, the spouts of water around them catching enough of the sky’s pink glow to turn into a cascade of jewels as the drops fell.

Sophie was watching Luc’s back as he followed them with his camera but that wasn’t what she was seeing.

She couldn’t escape this time. The memory was too powerful and she was caught by what she could so easily remember seeing in Luc’s eyes in the heartbeat after the electric shock from the touch of their hands, skin on skin for the first time in real life, still paralysing every muscle in her body.

Good grief… she could feel it again now despite the hundreds, thousands of days that had come and gone since then. The burn of that touch. The speed with which it had travelled right to her core. The unbelievable heat…

It had taken less than the span of a single breath for Sophie to realise how incredibly wrong she’d been in the moment she’d met Luc.

When she’d decided, then and there, that his rough edges and more than a hint of a dark background meant that he didn’t fit.

That he could never be allowed to come close enough to become an integral part of her life.

She’d seen, as clearly as if a curtain had been yanked open to reveal a view in the blinding light of high noon instead of an expected gentle dawn, that it wasn’t Luc that didn’t fit. She was the one.

She didn’t fit.

The woman who was dreaming about the perfect, safe life in a beautiful house, raising happy, healthy children who had two parents to adore them – with a man she loved more than enough to be ecstatic about the prospect of spending the rest of her life with him – might be the person she desperately wanted to be but…

… but it wasn’t who she really was.

She couldn’t admit that, of course. Even to herself.

She’d fought not to be that person since she was no more than a small child trying to navigate a world that had just been shattered.

Since she’d made a vow – one that she couldn’t actually articulate until many years later – that she was never going to be weak like her mother and cause unspeakable pain to the people who loved her the most. Right then that included Tom and Hannah, along with the father who’d devoted his life to raising her. Alone.

Neither would she ever admit to the secret, shameful fantasies she had let herself dance around the edges of, thinking she was perfectly safe because no one would ever guess it was even possible she would want to imagine such a thing.

They all knew that, while they were both polite and friendly, there was no personal connection between Sophie and Luc, let alone shards of an attraction fierce enough to stop any nearby clocks.

The tacit agreement between the two of them not to give that undercurrent any more power by bringing it out into the open had been kept. Everyone knew that Luc wasn’t thrilled with his best friend’s obsession with Sophie Spencer. That Luc didn’t really like her much at all, in fact.

But that was the other truth that had been shot down in flames in that fragment of time, wasn’t it?

The pull was mutual. Maybe equally compelling on both sides. Somehow, Luc had created a shield that had been strong enough to prevent her, or anyone else, seeing even a hint of that because his best friend – his brother from another mother – had made no secret of his feelings.

‘I’m going to marry you, Sophie Spencer.’

Secrets had done their best to slither away from the harsh light of exposure with a speed that could almost trick the mind into believing they hadn’t been seen at all.

Sophie’s secret had been chased by a guilt that was so real it made her feel as if she’d actually cheated on Tom.

That safety net, of believing that Luc would never, in a million years, feel the same way so it could never, ever be anything more than a fantasy locked away in her own head, had just been vaporised.

This was real.

And the inherent danger was overwhelming.

Nothing needed to be said. They both knew that tiny blink of time was all they could ever have. What they didn’t know was that, in the very near future – eclipsed by tragedy – it would be more than they would ever want.

And maybe that explained the sadness Sophie had sensed in Luc’s gaze. There was a new truth there. Perhaps, as he’d told her during that lunch, he had been toying with the idea of doing wedding photography but she knew that he was working with her for more than the extra income.

For more than his casual friendship with Greg could account for, either.

He was doing this for her.

Because of the memories.

Because of what had been lost?

But that didn’t really make any sense. Unless…

Unless he was doing this because it was what Tom would have wanted him to do?

Yes… Sophie could see Tom’s smile now, as easily as she’d remembered that glimpse into Luc’s soul. What would he want her to do?

That was easy. Tom would want the same for Luc as he would for her.

For him to be helped if he was in trouble.

For him to have friends who were his family.

Did Luc have people in his life now who cared that much?

As much as Tom had? Sophie was pretty sure she already knew the answer to that, too.

Because she knew why he would never have let anyone else that close again.

How could you, if your heart was too broken to ever risk that kind of loss again? If you had been broken?

She knew too much, didn’t she? Luc was trusting her not to open old wounds and that was the least she could do. For Tom.

For all of them.

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