The Little Antique Shop Under the Eiffel Tower (17 page)

My mouth opened and closed, as my mind raced to catch up. In the end, I simply said, “Merci.”

“It’s true.” The strength of his gaze, and the way he spoke about my style had me dumbstruck. Was there more to him than I had first thought? Or was it just a front in an attempt to make the evening livelier, by schmoozing me into bed? Somehow I wasn’t so sure he was the love ’em and leave ’em type after last night. He hadn’t made a move, instead, cared for me as if I was as fragile as glass. And I just wanted that, that surety, a man who’d make me forget that love was sometimes a battlefield.

Our cocktails arrived and we sipped in silence.

“So what’s the deal with that guy?” The look in his eyes was so genuine I felt myself relax.

“Joshua… Well, he’s a con man to put it bluntly, and I was completely fooled by him. I became quite the laughing stock in Paris, I’m sure.” And whether it was the sea, the soft wind ruffling my hair or the fact that I was completely caught off guard by a man listening to me, really listening, I went into detail, leaving nothing out.

And then came to the hard part, the part that hurt the most: “We were going to open a museum, well
, I
thought we were. He even offered to put everything in writing, just in case anything happened between us. He was so fervent about it that I dismissed it. It would have held us up, and I trusted him with every part of me. His dream was my dream; it didn’t occur to me not to believe him. Anyway, we needed capital to prove to the financiers that we could make the loan repayments for the stock we’d buy. Joshua told me he had money but it was tied up. Said there was a buyer for a piano I’d just bought that was once owned by French pianist and composer Fania Fénelon. And that it would easily be enough to get us started until he could free up some cash and pay me back. Then we’d just make our loan repayments and everything would work out in the end.”

Tristan rubbed his temples, and groaned. “I can see how this ends…”

I bit down on my lip, overwhelmed at how gullible I had been. “It wasn’t just the piano, he had buyers for all sorts of things, including the painting you were after, and I was so blindsided by him and the idea that my dream was so close to coming true, and we’d be able to share some really rare antiques with the world, and most importantly the stories behind them.” I blew out a breath. “I sell antiques for a living, but there’s a part of me that feels guilty not everyone can afford them, lay eyes on them, learn about them. This was a chance to fix that. I know there are museums all over Paris, and the world, but this was going to be
different
. Hands-on, classes for people on restoring antique work like paintings, old books. Real musicians playing the instruments and the music their maestros made. Something that would inspire the youth of today to invest their time, learning about history in a fun and interactive way.”

The jazz band fell silent as they took a break, and the spell was broken, the confession weighty all of a sudden.

“How did you find out he was up to no good?”

“I found the piano being advertised online at an exclusive American auction house. That and most of the things he’d taken. He assured me it was a mistake but it didn’t take long to follow the trail and it led back to him. There’d never been any customers. My world came crashing down. I confronted him once more, and then he vanished. I couldn’t get the gendarmes to help; he’d already spoken to them. They showed me a slew of text messages from me, to him, saying he could take those things. They were gifts. I was bitter from the breakup, they said. I couldn’t find one trace of any business deal, and that’s because he made sure there was none.

“I cursed myself for not putting everything in writing like he’d offered, but I knew it would have been fake anyway. Soon enough the bills mounted up, including the one for the piano, which was missing, and I was in dire trouble. No piano, no loan, and no money back from him. It was a scramble to keep my shop, and I had to ask for a lot of favors in order to survive. I spent almost every waking hour trying to find buyers for what I had, selling some at a loss just to get some cash in. I put off my debtors as long as I could. My friend, Madame Dupont, offered to lend me enough to bail me out, but I couldn’t accept. And even now I’m still trying to make my way back into the black. So there you have it.”

I cautiously glanced at him, expecting to see him running for the water to get away from me. But he didn’t. He just stared at me for an age, like he was trying to make sense of it all. “A dark time for you – it’s amazing you managed to hold on.”

“I broke all of my rules in order to do so, but I had no choice.”

“That’s usually the way rules are broken,” he said. “Desperation. I still want to pummel him.”

“I told you – life on the French antique circuit is never boring.” I tried to laugh the seriousness off but Tristan remained silent, steepling his fingers. Waves rolled to shore with more force as the wind picked up.

“A man like that needs to learn a thing or two,” he finally said. “Maybe someone needs to show him.” His voice was low, almost a growl. It was there again, that fierceness in his eyes, like he had an instinct to save me, as if I couldn’t do it myself.

“You don’t need to protect me, if that’s what you’re implying.” My thoughts drifted back to the shadowy laneway, the taste of fear on my tongue. “Well, not all the time, anyway.”

He gave me a gentle smile. “I know, Anouk. I know you can look after yourself.” A wistful expression crossed his face. “But it doesn’t stop me wanting to settle scores for you. I can’t help it.”

I’d never had anyone offer to fight my battles before. In one way it was sweet, knowing someone was instantly on your side, no matter what; on the other, I didn’t want to be thought of as someone so delicate they couldn’t stand up for themselves. Tristan was the kind of man who righted wrongs, it seemed, and I was grateful he was on my side after my confession, at least.

It was the first time I had told anyone the whole story, every nuance, every bruise on my soul, every bad word uttered and the scars they’d left behind. I didn’t see pity in his eyes. Instead there was compassion as he stared deeply, almost hypnotizing me.

I leaned toward him, pulled in by his quiet understanding when a man strolled too close to my lounge and bumped into it, causing me to spill my drink. The spell between us was broken as I searched in vain for a napkin. I looked up to see who was so clumsy, and deflated. He just couldn’t let me go. The blood drained from my face and I made a show of waving to a waiter, hoping Tristan would be distracted by me and not recognize Joshua swaggering off with two drinks in hand.

But of course, I underestimated Joshua. It was no fun for him unless he could goad me and watch my crestfallen reaction. He sat at a table just near us, and managed to gloat to his date who’d just taken her seat, “You’ll love the hutch I bought for you today, and if you don’t we can use it as kindling, easy come, easy go.” They both laughed. His eyes flicked to me to make sure I’d registered his ridiculous comment.

Tristan glanced from Joshua to me, and the look on his face was murderous. I shook my head, implying he wasn’t worth it. That’s exactly what Josh wanted. Attention.

If there’s one thing I was certain of when it came to Joshua it was that he’d never burn something he could make money on. It was purely to rub my nose in it, but I refused to take the bait. Stoically, I blinked back tears, and thought of escape.

“So,” I said. “Why don’t we…” Before I could finish Tristan was down on his knees in front of me. Instinctively I knew he was only in that position because he’d seen Joshua and wanted to help me save face. He cupped my cheeks, and lifted a brow like he was asking for permission. Instead of talking I pressed my lips against his, and the world around us faded as I closed my eyes, and let the sensation of someone new pervade me. Tristan’s lips were soft against mine.

The power of a first kiss that takes your breath away… My heart beat hard and fast with the thrill of him. But was it real? Or a way to make Joshua jealous. At that moment I didn’t give a damn, just fell into the sensuousness of it all, breathless, as I kissed him with everything.

After eternity Tristan pulled his lips from mine but stayed close, and gave me a lazy smile. “You sure can kiss,” he said, his eyes hooded.

“I’m French. We invented kissing.” I laughed, electricity zapping through me, making my voice shaky. From the corner of my eye I could see shock register on Joshua’s face. For good measure, I kissed Tristan once more, softly, my lips lingering over his.

Tristan slowly eased himself up. The second round of cocktails arrived, and I held the cool glass against my flushed cheek. Despite the sea breeze, I felt feverish.

“Let’s have dinner,” he said taking my hand in his. “And get to know each other better.”

“That sounds perfect.”

After a long, slow dinner of fresh seafood and crisp white wine Tristan walked me back to my hotel. I’d enjoyed sitting under the soft moonlight, finding it surprisingly easy to be with him and talk conspiratorially as I pushed our kisses firmly from my mind.

At my door, he took my hand. “I wish I could stay,” he said, his eyes blazing with heat. “But I have some business to attend to in Paris early in the morning.”

“I hope you get some sleep on the train.” He must’ve been exhausted from consecutive late nights, and early mornings, both times, because of me.

“I will,” he said with a laugh. “Perks of having a job in so many time zones, you learn to snatch sleep whenever you can.”

“Well, you’re missing out,” I said, smiling. “Sunrise in Saint-Tropez is glorious.”

“Sunrise in Saint-Tropez with you…” He broke off, and shrugged glumly. “I hope we can be friends, Anouk. After…”

Friends? Was that code? I blanked my features. “After tonight?”

A shadow crossed his face and for a brief moment he slumped slightly, losing that fluidity that set him apart from other men. “Yes, afterward.”

Something had suddenly changed, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe I was so used to second-guessing everything, and it was nothing. Did he regret his spontaneous kiss? “I’m sure we can.” I said, brightly, trying to evade any meaningful chat in case he apologized and walked away for good.

He kissed my hand, his lips lingering on my heated skin, and I was glad he had to leave because right then I had the urge to pull him into my hotel room, let any rational thought disappear, and enjoy the moment for what it was. Saint-Tropez had the ability to make you feel like someone completely different, like the rules had been washed away by the waves and anything was possible. Real life seemed so very far away.

“I’ll see you in Paris.” He took me in his arms, and I closed my eyes. I pressed myself against the warmth of his body and breathed him in. Someone new, someone different. The scent of second chances. He’d passed some test of mine tonight, one that I hadn’t even known I’d set, and I only hoped he was as genuine as I thought. “And thanks for a great night. You’re beautiful, Anouk, and that makes life so much harder.”

I laughed. “Why is that?”

“A beautiful French woman steps into my life, and suddenly Paris is even more appealing. A man can lose his heart in a place like that. Quickly, too.”

Was he warning me? Whatever we had would no doubt abruptly end, when his time here was cut short, but should that stop me? If Madame Dupont was here, she’d say
absolutely not, take the risk
! So for once in my life I was going to. Damn it all to hell, if this failed because he was some heartbreaker, if that was the case, I’d never chance it again. But really, lightning didn’t strike twice. There could never be another man like Joshua; fate wouldn’t allow it.

“Paris is the place for…whatever it is. So let’s see what happens.”

Maybe it was the wine, or the magical night, but I felt brave, and brazen. When we returned to Paris things might seem different without Saint-Tropez’s spell. But only time would tell.

He gave me a mournful look. “I really have to go…or I’ll miss my train.”

“I’ll see you at the May Gala.”

He smiled, and then kissed me once more. My legs went liquid and my pulse sped up. I could still feel his lips against mine as I watched him walk away under the moonlight.

Chapter Fourteen

After a peaceful morning strolling barefoot along the sand, soaking up the sunshine, gazing out into the vast blue of the sea, I headed home from Saint-Tropez refreshed and a little giddy with all that had happened.

By midafternoon, I was back in Paris and unpacked, ready to get some work done. The apartment was relatively tidy, and Lilou and her couch surfer were nowhere to be found. Papa’s call had obviously worried Lilou enough to make her wary, and clean up after herself for a change. Ironically, I missed her chiming voice, but knew it wouldn’t be long until she bounced back into the apartment.

The phone rang, and I dived for it. My heart sank a little when the screen announced the name Dion. And then I felt guilty. Dion was a great friend and colleague. I guess I was hoping it would be Tristan.

“Bonjour, Dion.”

“Anouk,” he said briskly. “Madame has asked me to call and tell you we’ll pick you up for the May Gala.”

I fumbled with a response. What if Tristan called and wanted to escort me? Still, I reasoned, I shouldn’t drop my friends for a man. That was the first sign of lunacy.

“That would be great, Dion. Thank Madame for me.”

“Sure,” he said and rang off.

Falling softly onto my chaise, I touched my lips. They still buzzed at the memory of our kisses. Something about Tristan niggled me though. When I replayed our conversations, I thought there was an undercurrent of warning to them. I wanted to be free and breezy about it all, but I couldn’t switch the worry off completely.

In the quiet of the apartment, I dozed off as diaphanous rays of sunlight hit my face, warming me from the outside in. When I awoke, Henry the couch surfer was there, bent over my desk, rifling through my paperwork. I held my breath, and watched him for a beat.

What was he doing?