She drove them up the hill, past the Château Saint-Martin estate with the private villa – and its pool – that would be forever etched on Angus’s memory, and he found he was still thinking about swimming naked with Tilly as they walked the first part of the track, which was a pretty, gentle climb, shaded by trees. Even the memory was enough to give him a tingle of retrospectivedesire that felt very much like a riff on excitement. He’d already acknowledged that his world was a more exciting place with Tilly by his side, but he was coming to realise that he did feel as if he could never get enough ofheras well.
But wasn’t that just a strong sexual attraction?
Why had Moira been so sure it was a sign of having fallen in love?
Surely the appreciation of something purely physical could fade as quickly as it had appeared? It wasn’t a reliable foundation to start dreaming of a future that would be a dream come true only if it includedthisparticular person. Not that his attraction to Tilly was showing any signs of fading. Despite a familiarity that made it feel like the steps of dance learned long ago, it was never quite the same and it was always, always astonishingly satisfying. If anything, it was getting better because it felt as trustworthy as everything else about Tilly.
As the path got steep and rocky, Angus found he needed to focus on where he was putting his feet. Even when Tilly took his hand when he offered it to help her over some tricky spots, especially as they followed the trail downhill to a small valley, it wasn’t enough to distract him from glimpses of the stunning views they were going to enjoy on the summit, which wasn’t far away. Every upward glance seemed to add to the detail that could be seen on the cross marking their goal.
The pops of colour from wildflowers amongst the rocks and sparse grass were a pleasure, and Angus enjoyed hearing Tilly tell him the French names of the rosemary bushes and the rockroses, which looked like floral poached eggs with their white petals and yellow centres. There were even spears of late lavender flowers and, while it had finished flowering, the scent of the wild thyme was strong as it got bruised underfoot.
Romarin, ciste, lavande, thym.
He wasn’t going to remember the names in French but he was never going to forget Tilly’s accent. He could listen to it for the rest of his life, he thought, and it would never stop making him smile somewhere very deep inside his body. In his heart, maybe?
There were some ruins of a stone wall and what might have been the corner of an ancient dwelling, and then they arrived at the base of cross that was much taller than Angus had expected. A simple design of a ‘t’ shape with a circle around the intersection of the two main pieces, but the arms of the cross were frames that enclosed repeated ‘S’ shapes of curved iron with the flourish of a scroll on each end, and it gave the summit marker a memorable elegance.
Angus could see the significance of this cross that had always been here on the mountain Tilly loved so much by the way her face stilled and her lips parted to give her that misty look he could read so well. She didn’t say a word but she didn’t need to. This woman wore her heart on her sleeve and she was passionate about the things she loved and Angus both envied and loved that about her.
How could you not trust someone who was so open and honest they couldn’t hide how they felt about what was important in their life?
Oddly, it suddenly felt hard to swallow and Angus turned away from the cross and shaded his eyes to take in the stunning view of Vence. A moment later, Tilly was by his side.
‘You can see the circle of the ramparts so well from here,’ she said. ‘Can you see the cathedral?’
‘Aye.’ The tower was the first landmark he’d noticed, standing out against the lake of terracotta roofs and chimneys and the buildings jammed against each other along the top of the medieval walls. It was also almost the only part of the city below them where there was a patch of greenery from tree canopies.
‘Those trees behind the cathedral? One of them is the chestnut tree we sat under for your first dinner in Vence.’
The night he’d done the unthinkable and shared a dessert from one dish with two spoons, which had, even as a child, always seemed as ridiculous as Lady and the Tramp sucking on each end of the same string of spaghetti.
The night he’d gone swimming with Tilly.
And there he was, feeling that surge of attraction that was capable of reaching his toes and making logical thought seem strangely out of reach. It took a real effort to tune back in to what Tilly was saying as she stretched her arm out to the left.
‘That’s Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat to the east.’ She was pointing to the right now. ‘And that’s Cap d’Antibes to the west. You can even see the Estérel Massif today. The mountains beyond Antibes?’
‘It’s incredible,’ Angus said. ‘You can see the whole of the French Riviera. It’s stunning. And I had no idea how huge those forests are.’
‘Itisstunning,’ Tilly agreed. ‘Thisisla Côte d’Azur. Provence.’ She put her hand on her chest over her heart as she let her breath out in a sigh. ‘It gets mehereevery time.’ She whirled to face the cross again. ‘I’vegotto persuade Luc that this is where my photo shoot needs to be.’
Angus followed her as she walked closer to the cross that he estimated had to be more than three metres tall. He was pleased to see that it was not only anchored safely into a rock and concrete base but had thick stabilising wires attached on each side.
‘Can you imagine?’ Tilly had her phone out, snapping photographs. ‘From the top of those rocks behind the cross there, looking down at a man holding up a ring to offer the rest of his life to his love, with that view behind them? Or…’ She was moving quickly now, only slowing to scramble over a largerock on the slope where the cliff began to fall away. She raised her phone to capture the new angle. ‘This makes the cross so significant. A symbol of faith – for the power of love. For the future. Oh…’ Her smile was dazzling. ‘I think Luc’s going to love this as much as I do. Just wait till you see some of the photos that he’s famous for.’
‘Famous food photos?’
‘No. He’s famous for—’ Tilly’s words were abruptly cut off when her foot slipped on a loose rock that was dislodged to roll away. The phone dropped from her hand but luckily only bounced and then fell a short distance to land in a small recess between two other rocks.
‘Merde!’ Tilly lunged for the device. ‘I hope it’s not broken.’
But Angus couldn’t have cared less about her phone. His heart stopped as he took in Tilly’s movement and the way the dislodged rock was gathering momentum as it fell further down the cliff, bouncing off other rocks.
He could almost see Tilly falling. In danger of hitting her head on any one of a thousand rocks that could kill her instantly. One tiny misjudgement and she would be gone.
He would have to live the rest of his life never hearing her gorgeous accent or seeing her face light up with delight or passion or laughter.
He would never be able to touch her again. To hold her in his arms and kiss her.
