Chapter Eight
Lycos was looking at his phone, a slight frown on his face.
Out of nowhere a sliver of unease coursed through Arielle.
She paused in the act of beating fresh eggs, gathered that very hour from her obliging hens, ready to make a breakfast omelette.
A late breakfast, for passion had overcome them before rising—as it so often did.
He put his phone aside on the dresser, but his frown remained.
‘What is it?’ Arielle asked, eyes resting on him. A cold feeling of apprehension crept over her.
She knew what she feared. That this golden time, this sweet swan song to ease her parting from her home, was ending. Her time with Lycos was ending.
She felt a fear stab at her. Did it come from knowing she must leave her home for ever? Or from the thought of losing Lycos for ever?
Both must happen.
But must it be now, this very morning?
For a moment, the memory of standing out in the courtyard the day Lycos had arrived to take away all that she held dear burned in her head.
But now it is not just my home that I hold dear…
She felt her mind shy away, unwilling to confront that truth. Yet knowing it was there, all the same.
Because how could it not be? She could tell herself all she liked that this time with Lycos must only be transient, to ease her to the new life that must await her when he no longer wanted her and she no longer had the mas to call home.
But now, as he looked at her with his expression shuttered, she could feel the protest rise within her. Protest that this golden time with him was ending.
Not yet, oh, please, not yet!
The cry came from deep inside her. A place she dared not acknowledge but felt all the same. A dread, an anguish, a loss.
For a moment Lycos did not speak.
‘I may need to go to Paris,’ he said. His voice was clipped.
Arielle felt her face pale. It had come out of nowhere, Lycos walking out of her life. Just as he had walked into it from nowhere. Emotion clutched at her, but she would not name it. Dimly, as if from far away, she realised he was speaking still.
‘I told you I was on my way there originally for a meeting with the banker who handles my finances. He’s just texted me to say that he will need to fly to Germany shortly.
Another client has need of him. That he will probably be there a while, then move on to Prague and Vienna.
So, if I still want to see him, next week would be a good time. ’
Arielle swallowed. It was painful, but she made herself say what had to be said.
‘Then you must go,’ she said.
He frowned again, brows drawing together. It gave him a forbidding look.
‘I don’t want to, but I think I must. I’ve delayed too long already. Except that—’
He broke off. His gaze went to the window, where the sun was filling the courtyard and the hens were wandering around pecking here and there. Then his gaze returned to her.
She waited for the words. The words she knew would come, must come. She had heard them already. Knew what they would be. He would be kind and tactful, but he would say them all the same.
‘It’s been good, Arielle, this time with you. Here at the mas, here with you. But now it’s time for me to leave, to go back to my own life. And you, for you it is time to leave too. To start your new life. I wish you well. We’ll both have good memories of this time now. Good memories.’
And memories were all that she would have. Nothing more. Memories of her home. Of Lycos.
Nothing more than memories.
‘So, what do you say?’
She blinked. What had he just said?
‘Arielle?’ He lifted a hand, waved it as though to wake her. His expression was strange. She couldn’t make it out.
He spoke again.
‘How do you feel…’ he said to her, his eyes resting on her with that strange expression in them, ‘…about coming to Paris with me?’
Lycos kept his gaze steady on her. Her expression was blank. ‘Arielle?’ he said again.
She stared at him blankly then said, ‘You’re asking me to come to Paris?’
She said it as if he’d spoken in a foreign language.
Lycos nodded. ‘Yes. Would you like to?’
Uncertainty filled her face now. It made him feel unsure too. Surely she would want to come with him. Wouldn’t she?
Abruptly, he felt doubt shape itself in his mind.
Intruding. Unwelcome. He desired Arielle, of that he had no doubt at all.
He had desired her from the first moment he’d seen her.
Had focussed on fulfilling that desire. And now he was focussed on continuing to fulfil it.
He wasn’t in the least bored or tired of her.
He wanted her now as much as he had wanted her from the first. He had no idea how long that desire would last, but while it did, he did not wish to part with her.
Surely she feels the same? She is as ardent as she was that very first night. As passionate. I see it in her eyes, her face, the ecstasy of her body.
So why this hesitation now?
Unless—
He felt a sliver of cold penetrate. A thought even more unwelcome than that dart of doubt pushing into his consciousness.
Did she give herself to me because it meant I would let her stay on at the mas, here with me?
Instantly he refuted it, yet the echo remained. The intrusive corollary.
Is it me she wants? Or her precious mas?
Again, he pushed the thought aside, thrust it from him. He would not allow himself to think it. Would not even allow himself to wonder why he asked it. Why it disturbed him so.
She was speaking again. That same look of uncertainty, confusion, still on her face.
‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ she said. ‘I have to pack up my things here. Leave the mas. Go to England.’
He felt the disturbing question in his head set aside. Focussing now on driving forward towards the goal he sought—Arielle’s acquiescence to what he wanted. Taking her to Paris and having her there with him.
This time at the mas with her has been good, so very good. A relaxing escape. A pastoral idyll. But it cannot last for ever and I need to pick up my own life. My old life.
Besides, he wanted to take Arielle to Paris. Wanted to show her the bright lights and the luxury life he led. The one he had made for him himself, won for himself. He wanted to bestow it on her.
He lifted one eyebrow. ‘Why not stay with me in Paris first?’
He felt his thoughts start to run ahead.
He’d wondered what Arielle’s beauty might be if she actually paid attention to it.
Well, in Paris he would find out. He’d take her to the couture houses, get her properly dressed and gowned.
Get her hair done, her face done. Get everything done. Buy her some jewellery.
Then take her out and about with me.
A sense of anticipation arose in him. But she was still looking uncertain. He wanted to push past that.
‘We’ll sort things out here before we set off.
Tell Jeanne and Claude they can collect the poultry whenever they want.
I’ll arrange for your piano to go to the lycée before I sell.
As for your things, just pack what you need for Paris and for England.
Everything else can stay boxed up in the barns and I’ll have it all sent to England when you’re settled there. ’
She still looked confused, dazed even. He walked over to her. Took the egg whisk out of her hand. Took her hands in his and turned her towards him. He looked down into her eyes, his gaze full.
‘I want you with me in Paris, Arielle,’ he said. ‘I’ve lived your life here with you at the mas. Now come to Paris with me and live my life! You’ll enjoy it, I promise.’
Her expression became troubled.
‘I can’t afford your life, Lycos,’ she said.
He shook his head impatiently. ‘You don’t have to. It’s all on me, Arielle. Of course it is! You’ll be my…my guest, if you want to put it that way! You’ve already told me you’re my guest here at the mas, since I own it, so what’s the difference about being my guest in Paris?’
His mouth pulled at the corner with the slightest twist and a glint in his eyes. ‘I’m a rich man, Arielle. I can afford to treat you. Treat you to anything you want. To anything I want to give you!’
His expression lightened. ‘I want to show you Paris, Arielle.’ His hands pressed hers. ‘And I want to show you to Paris! I can’t wait to do so.’
There was a huskiness in his voice, a tone of anticipation. He could see her expression wavering. He bent his head and kissed her softly. Slowly and seductively. He lifted his mouth from hers.
‘Say yes, Arielle,’ he said to her. His eyes were warm, his voice warmer.
Softly, he brushed her lips once more. Teasingly, temptingly. Willing her to yield to what he wanted of her.
‘Say yes,’ he said again.
Arielle leant against the windowsill and sighed with pleasure.
Their room in the smart, boutique hotel overlooked the River Seine, flowing around the exclusive ?le Saint-Louis in Paris.
If she looked north, she could see the dramatic bulk of Notre-Dame and across the river she could see the fabled Left Bank.
In the light of the setting sun, the river’s water was turning to liquid gold.
A couple of bateaux mouches glided peacefully along.
‘Like it?’ asked Lycos, his voice warm.
She turned. ‘Oh, yes!’ She sighed with pleasure.
‘I’m glad. I’ve stayed here before and I like the ?le Saint-Louis. It’s exclusive, but quiet. Out of the way, yet central enough for me.’
He leant beside her on the windowsill, the window thrown open. The early evening air was warm and the sounds of the city muted.
‘Glad to be here?’ he asked.
‘How can you ask?’ she replied, her eyes glowing as she gazed at him.
Emotion turned over in her. It had been hard to leave the mas. How could it be otherwise? But knowing that she was not to lose Lycos as well, at least not yet, that she was to have this grace period with him, had eased her taking leave of her beloved home.
And a new resolve had filled her. A new strength. Lycos’s words to her had lodged within her, telling her she could make a new life for herself as he had had to do for himself.