Chapter 16
LAILA
As we finished climbing the stairs to Sacré-C?ur, I exhaled, feeling a sense of achievement.
Walking up almost three hundred steps was no mean feat, especially considering the way my mind was racing right now.
Instead of taking in how impressive this church was with its striking white limestone exterior and the grand, recognisable domes, I was thinking about all of the things Gabriel had just said.
He remembered that I loved Jamaican rum cake. That was surprising because I didn’t eat it often. It wasn’t something you could just pick up from the local supermarket. I usually only bought it if I went to a town which had a Caribbean food shop and there weren’t many of those near where I lived.
And how did he remember how I liked my coffee?
Ricky had lived with me my whole life and on the rare occasions he made me a coffee (usually under duress), he always got it wrong. Even Juliette, who I considered my best friend, didn’t know. I always had to remind her so usually ended up making it myself.
Yet in walked Gabriel after seven years and remembered like it was yesterday.
Mind. Blown.
All of that alone would’ve been enough to digest, but my mind was also trying to process the fact that he’d admitted he’d looked at my bum. That instantly made me feel self-conscious because I knew it wouldn’t be as perky as the women he normally dated.
I wasn’t twenty any more and sitting at a desk all day for work and not exercising enough was hardly a recipe for perfect buns. And I couldn’t even blame my age, because I was sure J.Lo and plenty of women who were older than me still had a toned tush.
But he didn’t say it in a negative way. In fact, he even said it was quite the opposite. There was no way I was buying that he liked it though. A man like him could have any woman he wanted.
Anyway, I didn’t know why I was even thinking about this. I’d be going back to London soon.
I was hoping that today we’d get to visit the Eiffel Tower.
Originally I was planning to go home tonight or tomorrow morning, but now that I thought about it, there was no way I could go back without seeing the most recognisable landmark in the city properly.
I was sure that we’d go there tomorrow, so once I’d ticked that off my list, I could go home.
Yep. That sounded like a good plan. An extra twenty-four hours wouldn’t make a big difference.
‘So, what do you think?’ Gabriel said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I turned around and admired the sight in front of me.
‘Wow,’ I gasped as I took in the sweeping panoramic views of the city from the terrace in front of the church. ‘There’s the Eiffel Tower!’ I said excitedly. I was just thinking about how much I wanted to go there.
‘Oui,’ Gabriel confirmed. ‘You can also see other monuments too, for example, Notre-Dame.’ He pointed. I wasn’t sure that I could make it out clearly, but I nodded anyway. ‘Would you like to go inside? If you want we can go to the top. Or I can take you Place du Tertre.’
‘Is that where all the artists are?’ I said, remembering reading about it in a guidebook.
‘Exactement. It is known as the painters’ square. Picasso, Renoir, Dali and van Gogh spent time living in the Montmartre district and there are about three hundred artists that are based there.’
‘I’d love to see it!’
After we’d taken several photos of the views and the Sacré-C?ur Basilica, Gabriel took me to the famous square.
It was buzzing. Hundreds of artists were sitting in front of their easels in the open air, sketching portraits and caricatures of the tourists in front of them.
There was the sound of chatter in more languages than I could count. I loved the cute cobbled streets and the bistros, restaurants and cafés that surrounded the square.
‘This is brilliant,’ I gushed. ‘I love how vibrant the whole place feels. We should get our portraits done. That’ll be good for our funny photo.’
‘Hmmm.’ Gabriel paused. ‘I have an even better idea. Wait here.’
My face crumpled. What was he up to?
Gabriel approached different artists. The first two shook their head at whatever he’d just asked them. But when he approached a third man, he nodded enthusiastically.
Gabriel returned with a wide smile on his face.
‘Come with me.’
‘What’s happening?’ I asked.
‘Instead of just having the artist draw us, he has agreed to let us also draw each other,’ Gabriel said and my eyes popped.
‘That’s a bad idea.’ I shook my head. ‘I’m terrible at drawing. You’ll end up being a stick man! I think we should leave it to the expert.’
‘I am sure that you are much better than you think,’ Gabriel said. ‘When Ricky was a child and he gave you his paintings, what did you do with them?’
‘I’d put them on the fridge.’ I was embarrassed to say that I probably still had every single drawing that Ricky had ever done. I just didn’t have the heart to throw them away.
‘Exactement. Because although they were not perfect, they were made by him and that is what made them special, non?’
‘True.’
‘So if you draw me as a stick man, that will also be fine because you drew it and that is what is important. And it will be fun!’
‘I suppose so. And if my lack of artistic skills doesn’t make the Love Alchemists laugh, I don’t know what will!’ I smiled, thinking we might get extra credit for the idea of submitting a funny portrait instead of a photo.
‘So we have a deal?’ Gabriel held out his hand.
‘Okay, deal.’ I shook his hand, then almost instantly realised that I shouldn’t have.
As our palms connected, electricity rocketed through my veins.
Whoa.
His hand was so big, soft and warm.
On the rare occasions that one of my exes wanted to hold my hand, I always remembered it being rough or clammy. But Gabriel’s was the complete opposite. It felt like I’d slid my hand into a warm glove padded with expensive cashmere.
I looked up at him and as our eyes met, I wondered if he felt it too.
Hopefully my palm wasn’t sweating. Although I knew I should pull away, somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to. It felt too good.
I should really stop staring at him too. I was sure that any second now he’d look away, but he didn’t. Instead, he held my gaze.
God, he had really beautiful eyes. They were dark, sparkly and magnetic and…
The sound of the artist clearing his throat snapped me out of my trance.
‘You are ready?’ the man asked in a rough French accent.
Shit.
How long had I been staring at Gabriel?
I quickly tore my gaze away.
Then I remembered that I was still holding his hand so removed it too.
‘I, er… sorry,’ I said, embarrassment washing over me.
What were we talking about before I’d held, I mean shook his hand?
I’d completely lost my train of thought.
‘Would you like to do me first?’ Gabriel asked.
‘Do you?’ My eyebrows shot up to my hairline at his suggestion. Then I realised that of course when he suggested that I ‘do him’ he was talking about drawing him, not the sexual meaning of ‘doing’ someone.
For God’s sake. Get it together!
‘Oui,’ Gabriel said. ‘Or I can go first?’
‘No, no, it’s okay. I’ll do… I mean, I’ll draw you first.’
Gabriel nodded in acknowledgement and took a seat.
The artist pulled out a spare chair for me to sit next to him and handed me a pad and some charcoal.
Apparently Gabriel had arranged for the artist to still draw our caricatures but we’d be doing our own amateur versions alongside him. They weren’t even sure if it was allowed, but the artist thought it was a cute idea so agreed.
I glanced down at the blank paper, not sure where to start and still riddled with self-doubt.
‘Just do your best,’ Gabriel said, without moving his lips as he tried to stay still for the artist. ‘I am sure it will be brilliant.’
My heart bloomed and I wanted to slap myself at how easily his compliment affected me. He clearly could tell how insecure I felt about drawing, so it was nice of him to encourage me, but I was sure that once he saw the substandard drawing I was about to produce, he’d soon change his tune.
First I drew an oval shape near the top of the page for his head. Then I added a neck and drew an outline of his big, broad shoulders.
As I looked up, my eyes fixated on his shirt. I noticed that he tended to wear shirts rather than T-shirts and the sleeves were always rolled up to his elbows exposing his muscular forearms, which had a delicious, I mean a dusting of dark hair.
And his biceps bulged against the fabric. Not in a this-shirt-is-far-too-tight-for-me or a I-bought-a-smaller-size-just-to-show-off-my-biceps kind of way. His shirts were well-fitted, but when you have arms like his, it must be difficult to contain them.
A burst of laughter from a group of people on the other side of the square brought me back to my senses. When I glanced over at the artist’s page, he’d already sketched Gabriel’s face. I needed to spend less time ogling and more time drawing.
I quickly did an outline of Gabriel’s arms, then winced. I’d made them so big that he looked like a Michelin man. It was too late to start again though.
Now time for his face.
I fixed my gaze on him and my breath caught in my throat.
Off-limits or not, there was no denying that he was an incredibly attractive man. Everything about his face was flawless.
Despite the stubble on his jaw and chin, his skin looked impossibly soft, youthful and clear. Gabriel’s lips were full and plump, his dark, thick brows were imperfectly perfect.
It was so strange to have ‘permission’ to study his face for so long. The more I looked at him, the more details I spotted.
I noticed he had a small scar on the side of his right cheek but even that added to his beauty.
Sketching two little circles, I attempted to draw his eyes, already knowing full well that it’d be impossible for me to capture how sparkly they were.
He looked like someone who got a lot of sleep.
There were no dark circles or bags like I had after years of sleepless nights with Ricky and my insomnia now.
Once I’d drawn his features, I moved on to sketching his hair, then attempted to draw his shirt.
Just as I was adding the buttons, the artist announced that he had finished.
‘Already?’ I said, glancing over at his drawing. ‘Wow.’ My eyes dropped to my effort and back to his. Unsurprisingly, there was a huge difference. ‘I think you should just stick with the professional’s sketch.’ I lifted the pad up to my chest so that they couldn’t see it.
‘Non,’ Gabriel said, still holding his position. ‘Please finish.’
‘Okay,’ I said as Gabriel muttered something to the artist. I was sure I heard the word ‘money’ or ‘pay’ mentioned so maybe he was saying he’d pay the artist extra?
Speaking of which, I hadn’t even checked how much this was costing.
I hoped that Gabriel hadn’t given him any money yet.
It was only fair that we went halves. Actually, I’d offer to pay for it all considering he didn’t let me get his replacement shorts yesterday.
‘Done!’ I said, dropping the charcoal on the pad.
‘Can I see?’ Gabriel finally moved, flexing his neck before stretching out his arms, sending a rush of blood to my cheeks.
I immediately drew my gaze back to my ‘creation’ to avoid looking at him.
I’d done enough of that for one day and it wasn’t healthy for me when I was trying to keep everything above board.
Although my portrait of Gabriel wasn’t the rubbish stick man I’d predicted, it wasn’t going to win any art awards anytime this century.
I handed it to him and my heart thudded against my chest. Why was I nervous? It was only a bit of fun.
Gabriel took it and as he stared at the drawing a smile broke out on his face.
‘I love it!’ he said, still studying it closely.
‘Come on!’ I laughed. ‘It’s not a patch on this.’ I pointed to the artist’s amazing drawing.
‘This of course is excellent,’ he turned his gaze to the professional version, ‘but this is also fantastique!’ Gabriel looked up at me and seeing how genuinely happy he was with it made my chest expand like a hot air balloon.
He actually meant it.
‘Oh, well, er, merci,’ I replied.
‘I knew you would be great. Now you have done me. It is my turn to do you.’
Sweet Jesus.
Hearing him say that in his sexy French accent had more of an effect on me than it should.
Then I remembered that just as I had been studying his face, now he would be studying mine.
He’d see every flaw, every blemish… ugh.
But then I also realised that this was a good thing.
Gabriel claimed that he found me attractive, but I was sure that after studying me closely, he’d change his mind and that would pour cold water over any misguided thoughts he might still have of this going anywhere.
Yep. This was perfect.
‘Go ahead,’ I said, jumping off my seat and positioning myself on the stool. ‘Do your worst.’