Chapter 9
"You told me not to bring anything." She waited a little apprehensively as he met her at the door of Sylvie's apartment. "And I dressed down."
He eyed her simple sweater and dark blue dress pants. She had teamed it with a black jacket that had seen better days. Her hair was wound into two puffs on top of her head. Silver hoops dangled at her lobes.
"You're fine."
"You're wearing a sports jacket."
He took her hands in his, a frown touching his brow. "It's fine." Lifting their joined hands, he kissed her knuckles. "Why are you nervous?"
"I'm not." She started to tug her hands away, but he held on.
"Tell me what's going on."
"You're taking me to Paris. I feel as if I'm living a fairytale."
"What am I, Prince Charming or the big bad wolf?"
She laughed a little shakily. "Prince Charming of course."
He drew her to him, tilting her face up. "I missed you."
"Oh Rodney."
He took her mouth and she simply melted.
His hands moved over her back and then settled at her neck where he used his thumbs to hitch her face up so he could take more of her mouth.
She was addictive and he was spinning out fast. He had barely got through the week without thinking of her.
At nights, it was the worst, the damn bed seemed too big and empty.
He was like a schoolboy eagerly waiting for the girl of his dreams. It was unsettling to say the least.
Easing back, he held her and stared across the sweep of palm trees, expression grim.
"Let's go before I lose what little control I have.
" His voice was a little rough, his fingers bruising.
"You have the most astonishing effect on me.
I'm not sure I like it." Letting her go, he took her hand and led the way to the vehicle.
This time it was a shiny metallic gray Benz.
*****
After making the journey to the restaurant in relative silence, he kept the conversation going as soon as they were seated at the same private table on the balcony. Luke greeted her like an old friend, hauling her against him and almost bruising her ribs.
The meal was delicious, the rigatoni delicate to the palate. He spoke of the plans for the palace and the difficulties they were having getting some of the particular designs he had in mind.
"You have lofty ideas." They had finished the soup and main course without her being aware of the time and were onto the sinfully delicious Tiramisu.
"You sound like my mother." He told her with a laugh. Amber eyes swept over her face and settled on her delectable looking mouth. Desire swept through him like a tidal wave and had him bobbling his glass of wine.
"I want you to meet her." He had not meant to say it out loud and it left him confused.
"I--"
"Forget it." His brusqueness had her bristling.
"Look--"
"I spoke out of turn." He smiled grimly. "Just my heart talking. How's the dessert?"
"Terrific." She stared at him for a moment and tried to stop the tremors.
"Rodney--"
His phone rang just then. He took the call and spoke rapidly before hanging up. "We're ready."
"Ready?"
"To go to Paris."
"Are you sure?"
He gave her a derisive look. "Are you sure?"
"You sounded angry--"
"Forget that." Rising, he walked around to take her hand. "I want to do this with you."
Trying hard not to be bowled over, but that was hard to do when she was, for the first time, faced with a plane that looked like she had stepped into a five-star hotel.
They were met by a chicly dressed flight attendant wearing a red and blue uniform, her blonde hair expertly coiffed at the back of her neck, white teeth gleaming in a professional smile.
Melanie had to force herself not to pass her hand over her own hair or feel ashamed about her clothing.
"Would you like something to drink?"
"No." Rodney shook his head as he held onto Melanie's hand. "Tell Jack that we'll be ready for takeoff in just a few minutes."
"Of course sir." She nodded and melted back inside.
There were several sofas in navy blue and a table in the middle. The wide arched columns opened up to what looked like a wet bar.
"Do you need anything?"
She shook her head and sank down into a wide curved chair that enveloped her body.
"Sure?" When she said no, he stepped back. "I'll just be a minute. The cabin is through there in case you want to freshen up. We'll take advantage of it during the long flight."
He disappeared before she could make a comment.
Swiveling the chair around, she took in the stunning décor and felt the usual fear and disillusionment enveloping her. She was way out of her league. This was wealth beyond anything she had ever imagined. Pushing to her feet, she decided to explore.
The cabin was large, complete with a wide bed, neatly covered with navy blue satin. A dresser, armoire, deep cushioned seats and a large closet completed the look.
Her feet sank into a snowy white carpet. The head or bathroom, whatever it was called, had the same color scheme. A bath stood in the middle and there was also a shower installed.
"You disappeared." She had been so caught up, she hadn't heard him come up behind her. Or the carpet had muffled his footsteps.
"You travel like this all the time?"
His arms came around her. "Mostly. It made sense to have a plane handy. We do a lot of travel." He rested his chin on top of her head. "We could take a shower as soon as we're airborne."
"I did not bring anything with me, remember?"
"I thought of that." He turned her to face him. "I had Monique send over some things from Romano's."
"Like what?"
"Some underwear and clothes to wear when we land." He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. "Paris gets cold this time of year."
"Without asking me?"
He looked at her quizzically. "I wanted to surprise you and besides, I was the one who told you not to bring anything. Is there an issue here?"
"I just don't like being handled." She was deliberately starting an argument and she knew it.
"All right." He eased out a breath. "Why don't you tell me what's really going on."
"Nothing."
"Uh huh." He shook his head. "You've been off since earlier. Was it the remark I made about wanting you to meet my mother?"
"No. Yes. This is going too fast."
"You're scared." He drew her closer. "So am I.
All right, no more mention of meeting my mother.
I just want us to have a good time. This week's been stressful for me.
I had some shipment being delayed and the apartment building in New York, one that we've been renovating, caught on fire.
I had to go and try and sort things out. "
"I'm sorry--"
He shook his head. "No talk of work or anything like that. I came to tell you that we're ready to depart."
Shaking off the feeling of fear and guilt that was trying to consume her, she smiled at him.
"You're going to have to hold my hand."
"Afraid of flying?" He teased gently, taking her hand.
"Taking off is the worst."
"Then I'm happy I have a shoulder for you to lean on.
" He led them back to the main cabin and strapped her in himself.
True to his word, he held her hand in his while she leaned on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
Takeoff was smooth. As soon as they leveled out, the seatbelt light came off.
He unhooked her and led the way to the private jet suite.
"Your flight attendant--" She started to protest when he started to undress her.
"Knows to mind her own business." He whispered as he closed his mouth over hers.
She felt as if she was dreaming.
They spent the several hours of the long flight mostly in bed, making love. The flight was so smooth, she had no problem snuggling against him and going right to sleep for two hours. Then they took a bath in that large tub that could accommodate them comfortably and had space for four more people.
The outfit he had chosen for her was a teal blue cashmere sweater, real cashmere, so soft and clingy that she felt as if she wasn't wearing anything at all.
The tan tailored pants was a recognized brand.
He had even thought of underwear, wispy matching lace and soft knee-high boots that matched the jacket.
"I feel as if I'm a different person." She murmured, turning from the mirror to look at him.
"You look the same to me." He murmured. Moving towards her, he cupped her face between his palms. He already knew what their weekend was going to be like. He was going to give her the time of her life.
"Only different clothes." Tilting her head, he brushed his lips against hers and had her trembling. "We could go back to bed." He whispered.
"No." Laughingly, she pushed him back. "I happen to be starving."
"So am I." His suggestive leer had her retreating even further.
"For food."
"Spoilsport." He kissed her again before taking her hand and leading the way out.
*****
He had been to Paris more times than he could count and had to admit he took the enchanting city for granted. Now he was seeing it through her eyes. He had outlined an itinerary that he knew would suit her.
The Notre-Dame Cathedral was their first stop and even though there were restorations going on, the atmosphere was astonishing.
A car had been waiting for them at the private airfield of the Charles de Gaulle airport.
Preferring to drive himself, he had made arrangements to do just that.
The city was up and running, pedestrians and drivers were in a mad rush.
Despite the icy cold, she had the windows rolled down to take in the scenery and was enchanted by everything she witnessed.
The flower stalls were already doing active business and the sounds of French mixed with several other languages could be heard. He stopped to buy her a bouquet of pink posies, which she clutched to her chest as if they were hidden treasure.