"Do I have time to unpack before our first meeting?" Sophie carefully unrolled her precious dress from its packing tissue and located a heavy wooden hanger behind the vast wall of mirrored wardrobes. She certainly wanted to take this one garment out of the crushing confines of her case, even if there was no time for anything else.
"Actually, I won't need you this morning," Lucien said. "The meeting will be conducted entirely in French, and from the way you blushed when you thanked the driver earlier, I'm guessing that French doesn't feature on your resume."
Sophie bristled unnecessarily, because he was quite right. "I can get by," she muttered.
"You can?"
"Oui. Bonjour, Lucien." Had she really just said that?
She ignored his snort.
"Bonjour, Ms. Black." He inclined his head. "What?" He threw his hands out to the sides at her maddened glance. "It's appropriately polite."
"Ça va?" Sophie asked, hoping she'd dredged the right words from her dim and distant memory of French classes as a bored fourteen year-old.
Lucien all but laughed, and replied in equally basic French for her benefit. "Ça va bien, merci."
"Bon." She jutted her chin, glad to have navigated her way through the simple conversation.
"Let's see, Sophie..." Lucien ran his tongue over his top lip, and the seductive drop of his voice warned her of danger up ahead. "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?"
Thanks to Lady Marmalade, Sophie understood Lucien perfectly clearly.
"What's the French for 'stop flirting'?" she asked drily.
"No clue. I've never needed it."
She was quite sure he hadn't. No doubt women came as easily to him as everything else in his life.
"Take the morning off. Swim in that bath. See some of Paris. Can you order lunch for around two, and then we'll head over to the site to see how things are progressing."
Sophie nodded bravely. She could do those things. Organise lunch. See Paris. Visit Lucien's newest sex club. All in a normal day’s work.
Alone in the penthouse, Sophie drifted from room to room, absorbing the beauty of her surroundings. Contrary to Lucien's suggestion, she settled for a shower under the monsoon jet in the huge cubicle that stood in another corner of her bathroom. Tempting as the bath was, she didn't feel that she could afford to relax too much. Bundled up in the thickest white bathrobe in the world, she set about deciding how to spend her morning in Paris.
First things first. Organise lunch.
But how did you organise lunch in your own private Parisian dining room? The apartment was bereft of a kitchen, so cooking was not an option. The people who lived here obviously didn't do such mundane tasks as operating a cooker.
Happily, however, they did leave at their guests’ disposal beautiful leather-bound manuals in English, listing restaurants that would cater directly to the apartment, and Lucien had left his charge card beside them. Lavish dishes, many of which she didn't understand and couldn't pronounce. She flicked through the heavy menus with rising panic, and then her lips curved into a smile. Bingo. This she could do.
Lunch successfully organised, Sophie dressed carefully. She wanted to blend in, to look as if she belonged here in the chic French capital. Her flimsy black polka dot blouse layered over silk underwear fitted the bill perfectly, demure yet sophisticated when teamed with her new black pencil skirt. She added her cherry red woolen coat as protection against the cool autumn weather when she stepped out of the secret courtyard a little while later and breathed in deeply.
Being away from home and all of its associated complications was a breath of fresh, rejuvenating air that she hadn't even realised she so desperately needed.
Distance from Dan helped put things into a less distorted perspective. At home she was surrounded by the accouterments of their shared life, and she could see now that they only served to make it harder to envisage her life without him in it.
Something in her heart felt different. Lighter maybe, without the heavy weight of carrying someone else's heart too.
She glanced up and down the regal, tree-lined avenue. Leaves drifted from the tall chestnuts’ branches, the change of season a fitting reflection of Sophie's state of mind.
But for now, Paris was her oyster, and she intended to feast on it.
Chapter Ten
"Pizza? You have the finest cuisine in the world at your fingertips, and you order pizza?"
Lucien's gaze swept over the dining table, now laden with elegant white and gold scrolled crockery, gleaming cutlery, glittering crystal, and pizza.
"It's posh pizza," Sophie countered. "It didn't arrive in cardboard boxes, for a start."
Lucien shook his jacket off as he stepped down into the dining room. Sophie could have flexed his credit card on a designer meal, yet she'd chosen instead a safe option. He'd hoped he'd cured her of that habit. Still, he was hungry, and the pizza smelled delicious.
It wasn't just the food that smelled good, though. Sophie moved in close when he held out her chair, and he caught the scent of an exotic perfume that wasn't her usual variety.
He didn't comment on it though, as she'd no doubt accuse him of flirting again.
"How was your morning?" she asked, adding salad to her plate.
He shrugged. "Good." He closed his eyes for a second. He didn't really get to eat pizza very often, and novelty turned into pleasant surprise as the fresh flavours hit his palate.
He opened his eyes again and found Sophie watching him, an amused glint in her eyes. Paris seemed to agree with her. Pink roses coloured her cheeks, and those dark smudges around her eyes seemed less pronounced.
"What did you do this morning?" he asked, suddenly keen to know what had helped lift her mood.
A smile lit her face, and the dining room seemed instantly brighter.
"I walked." She practically swooned. "God, Paris is amazing! I've touched the Eiffel tower, and I've taken one of those bateau buses along the Seine, and I ate croissants in the Tuileries gardens." It was the most animated he'd seen her since her return to his life. "And the metro! I caught the metro, and managed to find my way back here." She sighed happily, and her eyes swam with excitement. "It's official. I love Paris."
Lucien nodded. He shared similar sentiments for the city, although he’d never have expressed them with such elation.
"Did you shop?" He guessed this must be safe territory.
"Just window shopping. I tested the most amazing chocolate though, and I’ve been spritzed with perfume that probably costs more than my salary!"