Chapter 38
Tomorrow turned out to be postponed. The unsociably scheduled meeting that Tomas had spoken about turned into something that could be very interesting, he explained when he called to cancel early the following morning.
The potential client was interested in a one-of-a-kind mural on the living area wall of his new plane and was now on the way home from a business trip in Australia and very keen for a face-to-face meeting to discuss the commission in more depth.
Tomas was therefore booked on the next flight out to Bahrain.
First class, of course. He’d popped round for a quick hello and goodbye.
‘You didn’t have to come all the way over here.’ I wrapped my arms around his waist as he kissed me good morning. ‘Although, now I’m glad you did.’
‘Of course I did,’ he replied. ‘Besides,’ his voice dropped a little lower, the timbre hitting me in all the right places, ‘I don’t get to kiss you like that over the phone.’
‘If you’ve come hoping to get more idolatry from my daughter, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. Gabby has taken her shopping for an outfit for tonight.’
‘I didn’t, although I wouldn’t turn it down,’ he chuckled. ‘Mostly, I’m just glad she doesn’t hate me quite so much any more.’
‘She never hated you.’ I traced my finger along the weave of his linen shirt he wore under his jacket.
The blue skies of earlier days, dotted with fuzzy-edged blobs of white cloud, was today replaced with a flat, greyscale one that was practically colourless as though the continually drizzling rain had rinsed away the hue of the city until all that was left was grey.
A living version of the many prints of Paris that hung on so many walls all over the world.
‘Are you allowed to say who the commission is for?’
‘No. But I will of course tell you once I know. Although then you’re sworn to secrecy too.’
I widened my eyes in a tease. ‘I’ve never dated a celebrity before.’
‘Are we dating?’ He took a step forward.
‘Who said I was talking about you?’
‘We’re not exclusive?’ he murmured as his head bent towards my neck.
If this was exclusivity, I’d take it for the rest of my life…
‘I might consider it.’
‘Anything I can do to persuade you?’ His lips were now meandering their way along my collar bone.
So many things…
A noise in the hall made us both start and then we heard the door to the apartment opposite open and close. Tomas checked his watch.
‘Merde,’ he mumbled under his breath.
‘You’d better get going. You don’t want to miss your flight.’
He gave me a look that no one had given me in a very, very long time. ‘I really do.’ The corners of his mouth tipped into the sexy smile that, even in the many intervening years, had never entirely extinguished itself from my memory. And there it was. There he was.
‘Me too.’ I stood from the sofa. ‘But one of us has to be sensible.’ I held out my hand to pull him up – or at least give the impression of doing so. At nearly twice my bulk and almost a foot taller, physics tended to favour him. ‘Come on. Up you get.’
He did as he was bid.
‘By the way, assuming you were referring to me, I don’t consider myself a celebrity.’
‘Says the man who got my daughter not only a seat at one of the world’s most exclusive restaurants but also an interview with its celebrity owner.’
‘That’s different.’
‘Because she’s an old flame?’ I teased.
‘I forgot how much of a pain in the arse you were.’
‘Remembering now, though?’
His arms slid around me. ‘Oh, yeah.’
‘So this plane you’re being commissioned to paint?’
‘Umhmm.’
‘You’re definitely sure it’s the inside? They’re not just going to hand you a massive spray can of white and tell you to get going?’
He appeared to consider this as he shrugged his coat back on then gave a tiny tilt of his head.
‘Well, that’d be fun too.’
The dull weather had encouraged me to light some candles I’d styled in the ornate period fireplace.
Before Tomas had arrived, I’d been cocooned in a squishy armchair with a light blanket, and engrossed in a novel, the easy comfort keeping me both emotionally and physically warm.
The room was cosy and snug and the soft light of the candles and reading lamp were successfully keeping away the gloom of the day. Tomas looked around.
‘I could stay here all day.’
‘I’d like that.’
We both appeared to be considering the idea until I placed my hands on Tomas’s arms and turned him bodily towards the door. ‘But unfortunately, it’s not an option.’
‘Well, it is,’ he replied, looking back over his shoulder as I pushed him towards the door like a small human bulldozer.
‘No,’ I said with a little puff, ‘it’s not. God, you’re heavy.’
‘Only when I need to be.’
I ignored the allusion in his tone and, as much as possible, the images it conjured in my mind.
‘Right,’ I said, now that we were at the door. ‘Got everything? Passport? Phone? Wallet?’
He nodded as he patted a couple of pockets. ‘And glasses.’ The smile was rueful but the fact he now had to wear glasses to read did nothing to affect the attraction for me. If anything, it only enhanced it.
‘Good.’
‘I’ll call you when I land.’
‘Thanks. Just so I know you’re safe.’
‘And so I can hear your voice.’
I made to give him a gentle bat away and he caught my hand.
‘I mean it.’
I met his eyes. ‘I know,’ I said softly. I still found it hard to believe that was the truth. I knew he meant it.
His phone pinged and he pulled it from his pocket to read the text.
‘This painting,’ I pondered as he read.
‘Yes?’
‘How long would it take?’
‘It depends on what he wants exactly and the size. I’ll know more after this meeting. It’ll be a little while yet anyway as there’s various tests that have to be done to ensure the paint I use passes a burn test, apparently.’
I pulled a face. ‘That sounds ominous.’
‘Hopefully, it’s never put to that particular test in the real world but rules are rules, I suppose.’
‘Says the man who I remember as never being a particular fan of such things.’
‘It depends on what they are and who makes them.’ He flicked his dark brows, his eyes flashing with mischief as he leant in for another brief kiss before glancing at the plain face of a watch that Sash had reliably informed me cost more than her entire education.
‘I’d better get to the airport.’ His tone was of one heading to Madame Guillotine rather than the blue skies and opulent surroundings of a five-star luxury Bahraini hotel.
Another kiss and then he was gone, jogging down the stairs and back out into the gloom of the day.