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‘What you must do, monsieur, is take care of this young woman.’ He solemnly presented Nikos with the drawing. ‘Love her as she deserves to be loved. That is all the payment I need.’
Awkward!
After thanking the artist profusely, Kate moved away, suddenly desperate to escape the hothouse atmosphere surrounding them. She set off at a brisk pace, having no idea where she was going, but Nikos’s footsteps soon caught up with her, and as he linked his arm through hers, guiding them away from the square, it was clear he was in charge again.
Kate’s body stiffened as she waited for him to say something, to make a deliberate comment about the drawing that he held by its string in his left hand in order to watch her squirm. But seemingly lost in brooding silence Nikos remained quiet, and Kate let herself breathe again.
When she tried to loosen his hold on her, however, he resisted, keeping her securely by his side as he purposefully steered them through the narrow, twisty streets.
Eventually a steep fight of steps brought them to a wide open space, offering the most breathtaking view of Paris. Behind them the magnificent Basilica Sacré-Coeur rose up, floodlit a pale orange against the indigo night sky.
‘Wow!’ Kate whispered into the night as she stared in awe at the towering edifice.
‘Quite something, isn’t it?’
Despite his comment, Kate could feel that Nikos’s intense gaze was focussed solely on her.
‘Shall we walk up to the top?’
‘Sure.’ She hurriedly agreed, if only to stop him staring at her like that.
The shoes would have to go, though. All this walking in heels was killing her feet. Easing them off, she hooked them over her shoulder with two fingers, trying her best to ignore the fact that Nikos was watching her every move with meticulous attention.
The climb was well worth it. The view was even more spectacular from up here. The whole of Paris was laid out before them like a tapestry of light, with the Eiffel Tower twinkling away in the distance.
Kate sat herself down on the top step but Nikos seemed restless, pacing around with his arms folded across his chest. Eventually he came and sat next to her, so close that she could feel his warmth, breathe in his unique, intoxicating scent. Suddenly the view blurred and Kate became aware of nothing but the overpowering presence of the man beside her.
No matter where they were, however fraught, infuriating or downright horrific the situation, his nearness always provoked the same wild, uncontrollable reaction. A rioting mess of nerves and sensations that went through her like a sweeping storm, knotting her insides with both pleasure and pain, leaving her weak with longing.
She stole a look at his stark profile, softened only slightly by the glow from the floodlights. So darkly handsome. So imposing. Held in the quiet intensity of this moment, Kate heard herself silently wishing, yet again, that things could have been different. That they could have found a way to make it work.
As her gaze fell upon his proud features she was forced to accept that mistakes had been made on both sides. Nikos had been unforgivably cruel. But maybe she could have handled things better.
Dragging her gaze away to focus on the glittering lights of Paris, Kate knew one thing for certain. No matter what she did, how hard she tried to fight it, Nikos’s grip on her heart refused to lessen.
CHAPTER SIX
NIKOS TOOK IN a sharp breath, hoping the chill of the night air would knock some sense into him. His agitation, far from lessening since they had left the Moulin Rouge, had only grown more intense. That old artist guy hadn’t helped. He had fallen for Kate the same way everyone else seemed to. Something about her just drew people to her, made them love her.
Love her as she deserves to be loved.
Nikos turned the phrase over in his head. Hadn’t he tried loving Kate once, with disastrous consequences? He had no intention of making that mistake again. What Kate deserved was to be treated the same way she had treated him. To be shown exactly what it felt like to be on the receiving end of such callous disregard.
He would never forgive her for the way she had treated him when he’d arrived in New York. The panicked look on her face when he’d introduced himself to her mother as her fiancé...the way she had rejected him, pushed him away, both as a lover and as a man, making it abundantly clear that he wasn’t wanted there in the bosom of her precious family... It still trickled like lava through his veins. She had as good as told him he wasn’t worthy of her love. Her crucifying lack of faith in him, in who he was and who he could be, had ripped their precious relationship to shreds, tearing it apart like tissue paper.
