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“Okay, are you ready? This is our first public outing as a married couple. Try to remember not to pull away from me the way you always do.”
Julianne winced at his observation. She did pull away from him. Even now. Even with no one here having the slightest clue who they were. It was her reflex to shy away from everyone who touched her, at least at first. He seemed to think it was just him instead of a lingering side effect of her attack. She just didn’t care to be touched very much. She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t about him, but now was not the time to open that can of worms. “I’ll do my best,” she said instead. “Try not to sneak up on me, though.”
Heath nodded and took her hand. “Let’s go and get this over with.”
They checked in at the front desk and were escorted to the executive offices by Marie, Madame Badeau’s personal assistant. The walls and floors were all painted a delicate shade of pink that Heath told her was called “blush” after the company’s first cheek color. When they reached the suite outside Madame Badeau’s offices, the blush faded to white. White marble floors, white walls, white leather furniture, white lamps and glass and crystal fixtures to accent them.
“Bonjour, Monsieur Langston!”
A woman emerged from a frosted pair of double doors. Like the office, she was dressed in an all-white pantsuit. It was tailored to perfection, showing every flawless curve of the older woman’s physique. This was no ordinary woman approaching her sixties. There wasn’t a single gray hair in her dark brown coiffure. Not a wrinkle, a blemish, or a bit of makeup out of place. This woman had the money to pay the personal trainers and plastic surgeons necessary to preserve her at a solid forty-year-old appearance.
Heath reluctantly let go of Julianne’s hand to embrace Madame Badeau and give her kisses on each cheek. “You’re looking ravishing, as always, Cecilia.”
“You charmer.” The woman beamed at Heath, holding his face in her hands. She muttered something in French, but Julianne hadn’t a clue what she said.
And then the dark gaze fell on her. “And this must be Madame Langston! Julianne, oui?”
At first, Julianne was a little startled by the use of the married name she’d never taken. She recovered quickly by nodding as the woman approached her. She followed Heath’s lead in greeting the woman. “Yes. Thank you for allowing me to join Heath on this trip. We haven’t been back to Paris since he confessed his love for me at the base of the Eiffel Tower.”
Cecilia placed a hand over her heart and sighed. “Such a beautiful moment, I’m sure. You must have dinner there tonight!” The woman’s accent made every word sound so lovely, Julianne would’ve agreed to anything she said. “I will have Marie arrange it.”
“That isn’t necessary, Cecilia. I’m here to work on the spring J’Adore campaign. Besides, it would be impossible to get reservations on such short notice.”
Cecilia puckered her perfectly plumped and painted lips with a touch of irritation. “You are in Paris, Heath. You must enjoy yourself. In Paris we do not work twenty-four hours a day. There must be time for wine and conversation. A stroll along the Seine. If you do not make time for that, why even bother to be in Paris at all? Non,” she said, dismissing his complaint with the elegant wave of her hand. “You will dine there tonight. I am good friends with the owner. Alain will make certain you are accommodated. Is eight o’clock too early?”
Julianne remembered how late Parisian evenings tended to go. Eating dinner at five in the evening was preposterous to them. “That would be lovely,” she responded, before Heath could argue again. The last time she was in Paris, they couldn’t even afford the ticket to the top, much less dining in their gourmet French restaurant. She would take advantage of it this time, for certain. “Merci, madame,” she said, using two of the five French words she knew.
Cecilia waved off Marie to make the arrangements. “Quickly, business, then more pleasure,” she said with a spark of mischief in her dark eyes. “Heath, your art director has made the arrangement for a second photo shoot today. It should only take a few hours. While we are there, perhaps your belle femme would enjoy a luxurious afternoon in the spa downstairs?”
Julianne was about to protest, but the wide smile on Heath’s face stopped her before she could speak. “That’s a wonderful idea,” Heath said. “Jules, the J’Adore spa is a world-famous experience. While I work this out, you can enjoy a few hours getting pampered and ready for dinner this evening. How does that sound?”
She thought for certain that Heath wouldn’t want to be left alone with Cecilia, but this didn’t seem to bother him at all. Perhaps her appearance had already made all the difference. “Très bien,” Julianne said with a smile.
Cecilia picked up the phone to make the arrangements and she and Heath settled at her desk to work on some details. Julianne sat quietly, sipping sparkling water and taking in the finer details of the office. A few minutes later, Marie reappeared to escort her to the spa.
Remembering her role as happy wife, Julianne returned to Heath’s side and leaned in to give him a passionate, but appropriate kiss. She didn’t want to overdo it. The moment their lips met, the ravenous hunger for Heath she’d become all too familiar with returned. She had to force herself to pull away.
“I’m off to be pampered,” she said with a smile to cover the flush of arousal as one of excitement. “I’ll see you this evening. Au revoir,” she said, slipping out of the office in Marie’s wake.
They returned to the first floor of the building, where a private entrance led them to the facility most customers entered from the street to the right of the J’Adore offices. Marie handed her over to Jacqueline, the manager of
the spa.
“Madame Langston, are you ready for your day of pampering?” she said with a polite, subdued smile.
“I am. What am I having done?”
Jacqueline furrowed her brow at her for a moment in confusion, and then she laughed. “Madame Badeau said you are to be given all our finest and most luxurious treatments. You’re doing everything, madame.”
* * *
Heath hoped everything went okay with Julianne. Had he not sent her to one of the finest day spas in the world, he might have been worried about working and leaving her alone like that. He’d thought perhaps that he would need her to stay with him all the time, but the moment Cecilia laid eyes on Julianne, the energy she projected toward him shifted. He knew instantly that she would no longer be in pursuit of him, although he wasn’t entirely sure what had made the difference.
It wasn’t until they were going over the proofs of the photo shoot several hours later that she leaned into him and said, “You love your Julianne very much, I can tell.”
At first, he wanted to scoff at her observation, but he realized that he couldn’t. Of course he would love his wife. That’s how marriages worked. He tried to summon the feelings he’d had for her all those years ago so his words rang with an authenticity Cecilia would recognize. “She was the first and maybe the last woman I’ll ever love. The day she said she would marry me was the happiest and scariest day of my life.”
That was true enough.
