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“I see something between you two. I do not see it often. You have something rare and precious. You must treat your love like the most valuable thing you will ever own. Don’t ever let it get away from you. You will regret it your entire life, I assure you.”
There was a distance in Cecilia’s eyes when she spoke that convinced Heath she knew firsthand about that kind of loss. But he couldn’t see what she thought she saw in his relationship with Julianne. There might be passion. There might be a nostalgia for the past they shared. But they didn’t have the kind of great love Cecilia claimed. A love like that would have survived all these years, shining like a bright star instead of hiding in the shadows like an embarrassing secret. Perhaps they were just better actors than he gave them credit for.
The conversation had ended and they’d finished their day at work. Julianne had texted him to let him know a car was taking her back to their hotel and she would meet him there to go for dinner. Cecilia had booked them a room at the Four Seasons Hotel George V Paris, just off the Chámps Élysées. He arrived there around nightfall, when the town had just begun to famously sparkle and glow. Perhaps they could walk to the Eiffel Tower. It wasn’t a long walk, just a nice stroll across the bridge and along the Seine. The weather was perfect—cool, but not too cold.
He opened the door of their hotel room, barging inside. He found Julianne sitting on the edge of their king-sized bed, fastening the buckle on the ankle strap of her beige heels. His gaze traveled up the length of her bare leg to the nude-colored lace sheath dress she was wearing. It hugged her every curve, giving almost the illusion that she was naked, it so closely matched the creamy ivory of her skin.
Julianne stood up, giving him a better view of the dress. She made a slow turn, showcasing the curve of her backside and the hard muscles of her calves in those sky-high nude pumps with red soles. The peek of red was the only pop of color aside from the matching red painted on her lips. “What do you think?”
“It’s...” he began, but his mouth was so dry he had difficulty forming the words. “Very nice.”
“When I got done a little early, I decided to go shopping. It’s a Dolce & Gabbana dress. And these are Christian Louboutin shoes. I honestly can’t believe I spent as much money as I did, but after all that pampering, I was feeling indulgent and carefree for once.”
“It’s worth every penny,” Heath said. In that moment he wanted to buy her a hundred dresses if they would make her beam as radiantly as she did right now. “But now I’m underdressed. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”
Heath didn’t have a tuxedo with him, but he pulled out his finest black Armani suit and the ivory silk dress shirt that would perfectly match her dress. He showered quickly to rinse away the grit and worries of the day and changed into the outfit.
“I was going to suggest we walk since it’s so nice, but I’m thinking those shoes aren’t meant for city strolls.”
“Even if they were, Marie arranged for a car to pick us up at seven forty-five. Perhaps we can walk home.” Julianne gathered up a small gold clutch and pulled a gold wrap around her shoulders.
Heath held out his arm to usher her out the door. In the lobby, a driver was waiting for them. He led them outside to the shiny black Bentley. They relaxed in the soft leather seats as the driver carried them through the dark streets and across the bridge to the left bank where the Eiffel Tower stood.
The driver escorted them to the entrance reserved for guests of the Jules Verne restaurant. The private elevator whisked them to the second floor in moments. Heath remembered climbing the over six hundred stairs to reach this floor eleven years ago. The lift entrance tickets were double the price, so they’d skipped it and walked up. The elevator was decidedly more luxurious and didn’t make his thighs quiver.
They were seated at a table for two right against the glass overlooking Paris. Out the window, they could see the numerous bridges stretching over the Seine and the glowing, vaulted glass ceiling of the Grand Palais beyond it. The view was breathtaking. Romantic. It made him wish he’d been able to afford a place like this when they were kids. Proposing from the lawn had been nice, but not nice enough for their relationship to last. Caviar and crème fraîche might not a good marriage make, but it couldn’t have hurt.
They both ordered wine and the tasting menu of the evening. Then they sat nervously fidgeting with their napkins and looking out the window for a few minutes. Pretending to be a couple in front of Cecilia was one thing. Now they were smack-dab in the middle of one of the most romantic places on earth with no one to make a show for.
They’d spent the last few weeks together. They shared a bed nearly every night. But they hadn’t done any of that in Paris, the city where they fell in love. Paris was the wild card that scared Heath to death. He’d done a good job to keep his distance in all of this. Julianne’s remoteness made that easier. He liked to think that in a few short days, he would be divorced and happy about that fact.
But Paris could change everything. It had once; it could do it again. The question was whether or not he wanted it to. He shouldn’t. It was the same self-destructive spiral that had kept him in this marriage for eleven long years. But that didn’t keep him from wanting the thing he’d been promised the day they married.
As the first course arrived, he opted to focus on his food instead of the way the warm lighting made her skin look like soft velvet. He wouldn’t pay attention to the way she closed her eyes and savored each bite that passed her lips. And he certainly would ignore the way she occasionally glanced at him when she thought he wasn’t looking.
That was just asking for trouble and he had his hands full already.
* * *
“We have to stay and watch the lights.”
Julianne led Heath out from beneath the Eiffel Tower to the long stretch of dark lawn that sprawled beside it. The first time they had been here, they’d laid out on a blanket. Tonight, they weren’t prepared and there was no way she would tempt the fabric of her new dress with grass stains, so she stopped at one of the gravel paths that dissected the lawn.
“We’ve seen them before, Jules.”
She frowned at him, ignoring his protests. They were watching the lights. “It’s five minutes out of your busy life, Heath. Relax. The moment it’s over, we’ll head back to the hotel, okay?”
With a sigh, he stopped protesting and took his place beside her. It wasn’t long before the tower went dark and the spectacular dance of sparkling lights lit up the steel structure. It twinkled like something out of
a fairy tale. Heath put his arm around her shoulder and she slipped into the nook of his arm, sighing with contentment.
Heath might be uncomfortable here because this was where their relationship had changed permanently, but Julianne was happy to be back. This had been the moment where she was the happiest. The moment she’d allowed herself to really love Heath for the first time. She’d been fighting the feelings for months. Once he said he loved her, there was no more holding back. It had been one of those beautiful moments, as if they’d been in a movie, where everything is perfect and romantic.
It was later that everything went wrong.
The lights finally stopped and the high beams returned to illuminate the golden goddess from the base. Julianne turned and found Heath looking at her instead of the tower. There was something in his eyes in that moment that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She knew what she wanted to see. What she wanted to happen. If this had been a movie, Heath would have taken her into his arms and kissed her with every ounce of passion in his body. Then he would have said he loved her and that he didn’t want a divorce.
But this was real life. Instead, the light in his eyes faded. He politely offered her his arm and they turned and continued down the path to the sidewalk that would lead them back to the Seine. Julianne swallowed her disappointment and tried to focus on the positives of the evening instead of the fantasy she’d built in her head.
