Love Captive (8 page)

"Look, Anne, I don't dare leave that car parked where it is very much longer. I came by your
pension
this morning to make sure you were still there. I wanted to make sure you hadn't pulled some trick and taken off during the night to fly back to Morocco." Carlos's lips curved in an almost friendly little smile. "Proving, I know, that I don't trust you, just as you showed clearly last night that you don't trust me. But you
are
still here, which I have to admit was a big relief, and here is my suggestion now. You say your brother plans to phone tomorrow, and you have no way of reaching him sooner. All right, I accept that. I will take your word for it, partly because I obviously have no choice. But if that is the case, we both have this day free, have we not? And I venture to suggest that you have never been to Paris before and would enjoy seeing some of the sights. Am I not right again? So here is my suggestion. Let us both put aside our distrust and dislike of one another and join forces for a day of enjoyment and sightseeing. What do you say?"

Anne squinted her eyes against the bright sun. "Well, I— Let me think about it a moment, all right?" Her pulse pounded hard.

Carlos broke into a soft, friendly laugh, again taking her arm. "What is there to think about? Possibly you'd rather go sightseeing on your own, but let us be practical about it. Have you any French money on you? By the time you get to a bank and make the exchange, half your day is gone. Even more important, are you sure you remember enough of your high school French to make yourself understood? Textbook French and French as it is spoken here are not always the same."

In spite of herself, Anne laughed too. By then Carlos, who held her arm, was leading her off down the sidewalk, meeting no resistance from her. "I'm afraid it's even worse than that," she admitted. "For some reason I can no longer remember, I chose to study German instead of French, so I don't even have a high school language course to fall back on. Truthfully, I was getting more than a little worried as to how I was going to get around."

Carlos glanced around to smile at her, black eyes twinkling. "So I shall be your guide and interpreter, right? And then someday, if we happen to find ourselves in Berlin, you can return the favor,
n'est-ce pas
?"

Anne laughed even harder. "Oh, of course. What I remember of my high school German wouldn't even get us safely through buying a meal."

Carlos joined gaily in her laughter, his handsome face infinitely attractive in this lighthearted mood.

"Then in Berlin I shall have to serve as your interpreter again."

"You speak German too?"

"
Mais oui
. French, German, Italian, English, a smattering of Russian, and of course Spanish, my native tongue. We Europeans are not as insular as you Americans, you know. We are not shielded on either side by an ocean, as you are. Rather, we live surrounded by neighboring countries. It becomes a matter of necessity that we attempt to understand and be understood."

I only wish I could understand and be understood by you
, Anne thought suddenly, wistfully. A wave of dismay ran through her as she faced how impossible this was. Greater barriers than not sharing the same language separated her from Carlos. Even if she buckled down to learn every language he spoke, there would still remain an impassable gulf of differing culture and social class between them.

Carlos dropped her arm and his hand caught hers. "So for today we are friends, right? We push out of our minds all thought of enmity and simply become tourists ready to enjoy Paris, the city that many people consider the loveliest and most romantic in the world. Is that agreed?"

As Anne's eyes held his, she nodded her assent. Carlos gave her fingers a friendly squeeze and flashed her a warm smile.

"Good enough. And I guarantee one thing, my little American friend. If you will place yourself solely and trustfully in my hands, I shall promise you this: Today will be so crowded with beautiful sights and sounds that by the time it is finally over, at dawn tomorrow, you will admit that it was the most enjoyable and unforgettable day of your life." As Carlos's glittering black eyes met hers, Anne wanted to laugh but found she couldn't. A fear had risen to block her laughter. The best she could do was smile shyly back at him. It wasn't that she feared Carlos couldn't deliver what he had promised. What she feared was that he could.

The day passed in a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds, with an amazing amount of spontaneous, carefree laughter. Carlos, relaxed and friendly, was the most wonderful companion Anne had ever known or even imagined. Had she not clung fiercely, tenaciously, to her knowledge of what he was really like as a person, she would have fallen hopelessly in love with him.

Carlos drove them first to what he called the most famous boulevard in the world, the Avenue des Champs-Élysées. They sat at a small table in a sidewalk cafe, enjoying a continental breakfast, watching the endless traffic stream by on the multi-lane avenue that was for Anne the embodiment of every romantic postcard she'd ever seen of Paris. As they finished their breakfast, Carlos pulled her eagerly to her feet and asked her how energetic a walker she was.

"We must walk for a time," he insisted. "Only by walking can we get a real feel for this most historic and textured of cities. And a walk of two miles is nothing,
n'est-ce pas
?"

Two miles
! Anne instinctively opened her mouth to protest, but at sight of Carlos's eager, challenging grin, she found herself smiling in return and nodding. As Carlos took her arm and led her off, he murmured encouragingly, "We will walk briskly to save time and to make the distance disappear rapidly beneath our feet,
non
? Surely in your young days as a Girl Scout you often hiked far more than a mere two miles, isn't that so?"

"But I was never a Girl Scout!" Anne protested.

Carlos stopped walking and stared at her in surprise. "But I thought all good little American girls were Girl Scouts!"

Amused by his intent expression, Anne replied laughingly, "Well, maybe I was never a good little girl. Have you thought of that?"

Carlos's black eyes fixed on hers, and a warmly teasing glint came into them. "Ah, but of course you were! It is only since you've become grown and have seen too many gangster movies that you've let yourself be dragged down into sly and reprobate ways."

"Of course," Anne agreed, and as Carlos grasped her arm more firmly to lead her forward again, they laughed together.

"My knowledge of English is quite good, is it not?" Carlos asked a moment later. " 'Sly and reprobate ways'," he quoted himself. "Even in your language I am adept at turning a facile phrase, is this not so?"

"Indeed, yes," Anne responded agreeably, touched that Carlos should care enough to seek a compliment from her. Maybe he was not quite as arrogantly sure of himself as he seemed. "One can easily tell that while you may be a marine engineer by profession, at heart you are a lover and poet."

Anne made this comment in a lighthearted, teasing tone, and certainly meant no offense. She was surprised that Carlos glanced immediately around with a suddenly sober expression, black eyes shadowed.

"Ah, but you're wrong," he muttered. "Above all else, at heart I am my father's son, and nothing matters more to me than family honor, family pride. Don't ever fool yourself that this is not so."

How could I possibly fool myself
? Anne thought irritably, her own eyes darkening. For a moment there, laughing and joking together, she and Carlos had gotten too close. He was warning her to pull back, keep her distance, to remember at all times who he was and who she was. Their agreed-upon pact of friendliness for the day meant only the cessation of active hostilities, not that a groundwork could be laid for a truly warm friendship.
I'll keep that in mind and won't trespass again
, Anne told herself.

Carlos guided her first to the Place de la Concorde, at the southeastern end of the Champs-Élysées. This was the square, he informed her, where the guillotine stood during the Reign of Terror.

"Glance around now at all the people hurrying through, at the pleasant harmonious aspect here, and there is little to remind you that it was at one time the notorious Place de la Guillotine, splashing with the blood of over one thousand three hundred victims of the Revolution."

"There certainly isn't," Anne agreed, but nonetheless she shivered and felt momentarily cold.

She gazed up in awe at the Obelisk of Luxor, a two-hundred-ton stone needle from Egypt that had been erected in the square in 1836. Carlos led her over to where she could catch a breathtaking view of the Tuileries Garden, framed by the winged horses of Coysevox, down through the little Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel to the Louvre. Then he swung her around and again they faced the broad boulevard of the Champs-Élysées.

"Now we shall begin our two-mile walk along the most enchanting boulevard in Europe to the world-famous Arc de Triomphe, a monument that every tourist in Paris absolutely must visit. You can already see it there at the other end of the boulevard, at the Place Charles de Gaulle, formerly known as the Étoile, or Star. When we arrive there you will understand why it was known as the Étoile, as no fewer than twelve avenues radiate out from it like rays of light from a star. In the center of the Place is the Arc de Triomphe, which is a hundred and sixty-four feet high, more than twice the size of the Arch of Constantine in Rome. Under the Arc burns a perpetual light dedicated to France's Unknown Soldier. When we arrive there, we will take an elevator to the top for a most splendid view of this magnificent city."

As they walked along the boulevard, Carlos held on to her arm and Anne felt caught up in the romance and mystery of this most beloved of cities. During their walk Carlos said little, but when they reached their destination, he asked her how she was faring.

"Your feet are not yet hurting, I hope?"

"You are right, they are not."

"I'm glad," Carlos said. "Before I ever suggested this walk I had noticed, of course, that you are not one of those silly women who put fashion over comfort and wear those ridiculous shoes with heels tall and thin enough to go through concrete."

"Spike heels, you mean?" Anne suggested, laughing.

"Ah, is that what they're called?" Carlos laughed, his black eyes twinkling as he motioned toward the city below. "But is this not an enchanting view of a most enchanting city?"

And most enchanting company too
, Anne felt an impulse to say, but she forced herself to refrain, answering simply, "Yes, indeed it is."

After they'd seen the view from the top of the Arc de Triomphe and had spent a few minutes wandering through the exhibition there, they descended to the ground and Carlos said that, to save some time, as well as to conserve their energy, they wouldn't walk back up the avenue to where he'd parked his car. Instead they would catch a cab. They must go to the Louvre next, of course, the largest palace in the world and surely also the world's greatest and most famous art gallery and museum.

Their stay at the Louvre was relatively brief for Carlos was anxious that they have time to go through the Tuileries Garden and visit the Jeu de Paume, a museum housing a fantastic collection of impressionist paintings.