Honor Thyself (28 page)

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Authors: Danielle Steel

BOOK: Honor Thyself
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“Tiresome. I had a court appearance I couldn't put off. And I almost missed my train back. The trials and tribulations of an ordinary citizen and lawyer.” He laughed at himself, and was obviously happy to see her too.

She seemed to come alive again as they sat and chatted, and became more animated and more herself. She ate half a dozen
macarons
, he noticed with pleasure, and shared a coffee éclair with him. He hoped her appetite had returned, she was looking very thin, but not quite as pale as when he walked in. Considering how far she had come in recent weeks, it was remarkable to see her sitting there in diamond earrings and jeans. She'd had her nails done in the room that afternoon. They were a clear pale pink, which was the only color she'd worn for years. He silently admired her long graceful fingers as she sipped her tea. Stevie had left them alone, and retired to her own room with the nurse. Stevie was satisfied that Carole was comfortable alone with him. She had looked at her questioningly before she left the room, and Carole smiled and nodded, letting her know it was all right.

“I was afraid I'd never see this room again,” Carole admitted to him, as they sat in the living room of the suite.

“I was afraid you wouldn't either,” he confessed, with a look of relief. He was aching to take a walk with her, and get her out of the hotel, but she was obviously not ready to venture so far afield, although she would have liked it too.

“I always seem to run into trouble in Paris, don't I?” she said with a mischievous grin, as Matthieu laughed at her.

“I'd say this time was a bit extreme, wouldn't you?” he commented and she nodded, and then they started talking about her book.

She'd had some ideas for it in the past few days, and hoped she could get back to work once she was back in L.A. He admired her for it. Publishers were always asking him to write his memoirs, but he hadn't done it yet. There were a lot of things he said he wanted to do, which was why he was planning to retire in the coming year, to do the things he dreamed of, before it was too late. His wife's death had reminded him that life was short and precious, particularly at his age. He was going skiing with his children at Val d'Isere over Christmas. Carole said regretfully that her skiing days were over. The last thing she needed was another bump on her head, and he agreed. It reminded them both of the fun they'd had skiing together during her time in France. They had gone several times, and taken her kids. He had been a fabulous skier, and so was she. He had been on a national racing team in his youth.

They talked about a multitude of things as darkness fell outside. It was nearly eight o'clock when he got up, feeling guilty for keeping her up for so long. She needed rest. He had stayed quite a while, and she looked tired but relaxed. And then she exclaimed as she looked out the long-curtained windows as they stood up. It was snowing outside, and she opened the window and put her hand outside, reaching toward the snowflakes as he watched her. She turned to look at him with the wide eyes of a child.

“Look! It's snowing!” she said happily. He nodded and smiled at her, as she looked into the night and felt gratitude overwhelm her. Everything had new meaning to her, and the smallest pleasures brought her joy. She was the greatest joy of all for him. She always had been. “It's so beautiful,” she said in wonder, as he stood just behind her but didn't touch her. He was basking in her presence and trembling inside.

“So are you,” he said softly. He was so happy to be there with her, and that she was allowing him to spend time with her. It was a precious gift.

She turned to look at him again then, with the snow falling behind her, her face turned up to his. “The night I moved into the house here, it was snowing… you were there with me… we touched the snowflakes, and kissed … I remember thinking I would never forget that night, it was so beautiful … we went for a long walk along the Seine, with the snow falling around us … I wore a fur coat with a hood …,” she whispered.

“…you looked like a Russian princess …”

“That's what you said to me.” He nodded, as they both thought back to the magic of that night, and then standing in the open window at the Ritz, they moved imperceptibly toward each other and kissed as time stood still.

Chapter 16

C
arole looked worried when Matthieu called her at the Ritz the next morning. She was feeling better and her legs were stronger, but she had lain awake thinking about him for hours the night before.

“That was a silly thing to do last night … I'm sorry…,” she said as soon as she answered the phone. It had troubled her all night. She didn't want to go there with him again. But the memories of that long-ago night had been so powerful, they had swept her away. It had had the same effect on both of them, just as it had then. They had an overwhelmingly intoxicating effect on each other.

“Why was it silly?” he asked, sounding disappointed.

“Because things are different. That was then. This is now. You can't go backward in time. And I'm leaving soon. I didn't mean to confuse you.” And she didn't want him to confuse her. After he had left, her head was spinning. It wasn't from her injury. It was him, and the re awakening of all she had felt for him before.

“You didn't confuse me, Carole. If I'm confused, it's of my own doing, but I don't think I am.” There was nothing confused about his feelings for her. He knew he was in love with her all over again, and always had been. Nothing had changed for him. It was Carole who had shut the door, and was trying to again.

“I want to be friends,” she said firmly. But nothing more.

“We are.”

“I don't want to do that again,” she said, referring to their kiss. She was trying to sound strong but feeling frightened. She knew the effect he had on her, and had felt it like a tidal wave the night before.

“Then we won't. I give you my solemn word.” He promised, but she knew what promises meant to him. He never kept them. Or never had.

“We know what that's worth.” The words slipped out, and she heard him gasp. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that.”

“Yes, you did. And I deserved it. Let's just say that my word is worth more than it was before.”

“I'm sorry.” She was embarrassed by what she'd said. She didn't have her usual control, but it was no excuse, whether he deserved it or not. He didn't seem to hold it against her.

“It's all right. What about our walk? Do you feel up to it?” The snow had already melted from the previous night. It had just been a brief flurry, but it was cold outside. He didn't want her to get sick. “You'll need to wear a heavy coat.”

“I have one… or actually, I did.” She remembered that she'd been wearing it that night in the tunnel, and along with everything else she'd been wearing, it had disappeared, blown right off her back. She had been wearing rags when the ambulance picked her up. “I'll borrow Stevie's coat.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Bagatelle?” She looked pensive.

“Excellent. I'll arrange to have your guards follow us in another car.” He wasn't taking any chances, which sounded fine to her. The trick would be getting out of the hotel. She suggested meeting him in front of the Crillon, and switching from her car to his. “Sounds like espionage to me.” He smiled. That was familiar to him, they had been cautious in the old days too.

“It is espionage,” she laughed. “What time shall we meet?” She sounded happier and more at ease than a few minutes before. She was trying to set boundaries with him.

“What about two o'clock? I have meetings before that.”

“See you at the Crillon at two. By the way, what does your car look like? I'd hate to get into the wrong car.” He laughed at the idea, although he was sure the driver would have been pleased.

“I have a navy blue Peugeot. I'll be wearing a gray hat, carrying a rose, and wearing one shoe.” She laughed. She remembered his humor now too. She had had fun with him, as well as grief. She was still annoyed at herself for kissing him the night before. They wouldn't do it again. She had made up her mind.

She asked Stevie to make the arrangements for her, for the car, and they had lunch on trays in her room. She ate a club sandwich, which tasted heavenly to her, and the hotel's chicken soup.

“Are you sure you're up to going out?” Stevie was worried about her. She looked better than she had the day before, but going out for a walk was a big step, and possibly too much for her so soon. She didn't want Matthieu to wear Carole out or upset her. She had looked worn out and distracted when he left the night before.

“I'll see how I feel. If I'm too tired, I can come back.” Matthieu was being cautious with her too, and wouldn't let her overdo it.

She borrowed Stevie's coat, and her assistant walked her to the car waiting on the rue Cambon side. She had the hood of the coat pulled up over her head, and dark glasses on. She was wearing the same outfit as the previous day, with a heavy white sweater this time. There were two paparazzi waiting outside, who took her photograph getting into the car. Stevie came with her for two blocks, and then walked back to the hotel, and Carole had both of her guards with her.

Matthieu was waiting outside the Crillon, precisely where he said he would, and she slipped unnoticed from her car into his. No one had followed her. She was breathless when she got into the car with him, and a little dizzy.

“How do you feel?” he asked with a look of concern. She was still very pale, but she looked very pretty, as she pushed the hood off and took off her dark glasses. She still took his breath away.

“Pretty good,” she said in answer to his question. “A little wobbly. But it's nice to get out of the hotel.” She was already getting tired of being stuck in her room, and she said she was eating too many pastries, for lack of something better to do. “It sounds stupid, but it's nice to go for a walk. It's the most exciting thing I've done in a month.” Except kiss him. But she wouldn't allow herself to think of it now. He could see in her eyes that her guard was up, and she wanted to keep him at a distance, although she had kissed his cheek when she got in. Old habits died hard, even after fifteen years. She had a habit patterned in her somewhere of intimacy with him. It was buried, but not gone.

They drove to Bagatelle, and the sun was shining. It was cold and windy, but they were both warmly dressed, and she was surprised at how good it felt to be out in the air. She tucked her hand in his arm to steady herself, and they walked slowly for a long time. She was winded when they got back to his car. The guards had stayed far enough away to give them privacy, but close enough to keep her safe.

“How do you feel?” he asked her again, checking on her. He was afraid they'd gone too far. He reproached himself for it, but her company was too inebriating to give up.

“Wonderful!” Her cheeks were bright, after their walk in the cold, and her eyes sparkled as she answered. “It feels good to be alive.”

He would have liked to take her out somewhere, but he didn't dare. He could see that she was tired, but relaxed. She chatted animatedly on their way back to the hotel. Despite their plans for “espionage,” he drove her back to the Ritz in his car, with hers behind them. They both forgot to stop at the Crillon. They were at the Ritz on the Vendôme side, the main entrance to the hotel. She reminded herself that they had nothing to hide. They were nothing more than old friends now, and both of them widowed. It seemed odd to her that they now had that in common. In any case, they were free and unattached, and he was only a lawyer, not a minister of France.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” she asked, as she turned to him, and put her hood up again. She didn't bother with the dark glasses. She could see no paparazzi waiting for her or anyone else.

“Are you up to it? You're not too tired?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“It'll probably hit me later. I feel fine right now. The doctor said I should go on walks.” He was just afraid they'd walked too far, but she looked very much alive. “We could have tea again, without the kiss,” she reminded him, and he laughed.

“That certainly makes things clear. All right, we'll have tea without the kiss. Although I must admit, I enjoyed it,” he said honestly.

“So did I.” She smiled shyly. “But that's not on the regular menu. It was some kind of one-time special yesterday.” It had been a slip, no matter how sweet it tasted at the time.

“What a shame. Why don't you go up with your guards? I'll park my car and come up in a minute.” That way, if a lurking paparazzo got her, she wouldn't have to explain him.

“See you soon,” she said, and slipped out of his car, as her guards hopped out of hers and fell into step behind her. A moment later there were a series of flashes in her face, and she looked surprised at first, and then smiled and waved. As long as they had her, there was no point looking unpleasant. She had learned that years before. She walked quickly into the hotel, through the lobby, and took the elevator up to her room. Stevie was waiting for her in the suite, although Carole had told her she could go out. Stevie had just gotten back herself. She had worn a windbreaker she had with her instead of the coat Carole had borrowed, and had taken a nice walk along the rue de la Paix. It felt good to get some air.

“How was it?” Stevie asked politely, and Carole nodded.

“It was fine.” She was proving to herself that they could be friends.

Matthieu reached the room a minute later, and Stevie ordered sandwiches and tea for them, which Carole devoured as soon as they came. Her appetite had improved, and Matthieu could see that the walk had done her good. She looked tired but happy as she stretched her legs out and they talked, as they always did, about a variety of things, philosophical as well as practical. In the old days, he had loved talking politics with her, and valued her opinions. She wasn't up to that yet, nor was she current on French politics.

He didn't stay as long this time, and as promised, there was no kiss. The snow of the night before had brought back an avalanche of memories, and with them feelings that had surprised her and lowered her guard. Her boundaries were back in place now, and he respected her for it. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. She was vulnerable and frail, and only newly returned to life. He didn't want to take advantage of her, just be with her, in any way she would allow. He was grateful for what they had. It was hard to believe there was anything left, after the scorched earth of the past.

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