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“Luc?” she asked in a soft voice. “What my father said...”
He sighed, glancing to where the conductor sat in his chair at the end of the car.
The man stepped discreetly to the side, looking through the window—even though there was nothing to be seen in the darkness—giving them privacy. Luc’s eyes pinched as if he were nervous. “I’d prepared a speech, but it seems silly now.”
She smiled, feeling sorry for his embarrassment. “Did it involve raising goats and picnics at the lily pond?”
He held up a finger. “No, but I should remember that for next time.” The teasing smile dropped away, replaced by an earnestness she’d never seen in his expression before. “Juliette, I know Provence isn’t Paris. It does not have all the fine things you are accustomed to. We are simple people with simple lives. Would... could you ever be happy there?”
“With you?” Julia slipped her arms around his shoulders.
“With me.” Luc put his hands on her waist. He was still, waiting for her answer.
“Luc.” Tears filled Julia’s eyes, and her heart felt like it would burst. “I would be happy wherever you are. But Provence... it has a way of stealing one’s heart, doesn’t it?”
He smiled, leaning close until his lips just brushed hers. “Just as you’ve stolen mine.”
