AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His sleeping issues suggest a deeper trauma—a trauma that has re-emerged in recent weeks. I’m not treating him; he’s not my patient. And yet I know I will find out what’s happened to him, because I can’t not.
Because I care.
I care about his problems and I’m terrified that I’m starting to care about him. All of him.
* * *
We are in Paris. Of all the places I thought Noah would bring me, Paris wasn’t on the list. And I don’t know why. Maybe because it’s so classically romantic and he’s insisted that he doesn’t ‘wine and dine’ women, and this ancient city is quintessentially romantic, especially at this time of year. Right now, it has fairy lights sparkling and Christmas wreaths hanging from the ornate lamp posts and snow drifting down on the glorious buildings.
I am in love with Paris. It’s a new love affair, just a couple of hours old, but it feels like the best place on earth to me.
When he slips the key into the lock of the penthouse suite of the Ciel Étoilé and pushes the door open, I am instantly hit by the view. The Eiffel Tower is perfectly framed by enormous windows, hung on either side by burgundy velvet curtains. The whole apartment is more sumptuous than I knew hotels could ever be. Gorgeous white leather sofas, a grand piano, hallways that are tiled in marble, a Christmas tree decorated with sumptuous gold baubles, and a Juliet balcony that has views towards the Seine.
‘Wow.’
‘You like?’ he asks, unbuttoning the top of his shirt to reveal the column of his neck.
‘It’s beautiful, Noah.’ I smile at him, and then something catches my eye through an open door. I move towards it on autopilot, aware he’s following just behind me.
The bed is huge. King-size, covered in cream bed linen and enormous European pillows. There’s another floor-to-ceiling window scenario in here, offering yet another breathtaking view of this glorious city. But that’s not what caught my eye. A dress is draped over the bed—a stunning dress, designer for sure. I frown, moving towards it. My first thought is there’s been a mistake. I run my fingers over it and look to Noah. He’s casually reclined against the door jamb, watching me, a small smile curving his lips.
A knowing smile.
‘Is that...?’ I ask him, confused.
‘A dress.’
I frown. ‘For...me?’
His nod is slow.
‘Noah...’ I lift it up and hold it against my body, moving towards the mirror. It’s a beautiful dark blue with spaghetti straps and a demure neckline, but at the back it scoops right down—I imagine that when I wear it, it will show almost my whole spine. The skirt falls to my knees. It is soft and silky.
‘It’s...beautiful,’ I say, my breath hitching in my throat. It’s so far removed from the kind of clothes I usually wear—my mum clothes or my work clothes—and a thrill of pleasure runs through me at that. All of this is unusual for me—wonderfully so.
He walks into the room then and looks at the dressing table. He opens a drawer and pulls out a box. A velvet box, about the size of a small sheet of
paper. He walks towards me, holding it flat in his hand. ‘And for this beautiful neck...’ He watches me intently as he opens the box.
I don’t look at it, though. I’m frowning at him, my heart racing. He doesn’t wine and dine women and yet there’s no other way to say how I’m feeling. I am spoiled and I am adored and I am happy.
‘I saw this and thought of you.’ His voice is thick with emotion—emotions I can’t comprehend.
I look down then and I can’t help the sound of confusion that escapes my throat. It’s a huge pink gemstone, so sparkly it’s almost blinding, and it’s surrounded by crisp white diamonds.
‘What is this?’
‘A necklace.’
I can’t help but roll my eyes. ‘I see that. Why?’
‘Because—’ he lifts it out of the box, his fingers distracting as they find the dainty chain and hold it ‘—I want you to have it.’ He comes to stand behind me so that he can clasp it behind my neck. The gemstone falls to the base of my throat, resting in the hollow there. It’s heavy and cool. I turn towards the mirror, lowering the dress now to stare at the image I make.
The necklace is distracting in its size and beauty. ‘Is it a...a pink diamond?’
I’m guessing. I have no knowledge of jewellery. My mother never wears anything but her wedding ring, and it’s not something I’ve ever bought myself. Nothing more than costume jewellery, anyway.
‘It’s Poudretteite,’ he says, though I barely catch the word. ‘Very rare.’ His eyes meet mine in the mirror and my heart stutters. ‘This gem once belonged to Marie Antoinette.’
