Paradise Found (20 page)

‘Oh, Matt, I didn't know.'

‘Didn't know! You didn't know what you were doing to me? Now I've heard it all.'

‘I thought it was just physical. A need any woman could fill.'

‘No, Zoe. I won't say that you're the only woman who has ever filled my arms . . .'

‘I wouldn't believe you if you did.'

‘. . . but you're the only woman who has ever filled my heart. When I heard that you were the one Tony was going to marry I almost went
out
of my mind. I tried to kid myself that in the years we'd been apart I'd immortalized what we had, built it up and romanticized it into something larger than life. The value of something lost is invariably magnified out of all proportion, and I thought it might be the same with you. Instead—well, I came round to see you, and instead of making things better, it was a million times worse. I knew I couldn't let Tony have you. I was half crazed wondering what to do.'

‘You soon figured something out.'

‘It wasn't as calculated as that. Nothing was planned, although all sorts of vague notions were stirring through my mind, such as getting Tony so drunk that he wouldn't be in a fit state for his own wedding. Things just seemed to happen of their own accord. Poor Camille, in a way I feel partly to blame, but I wasn't to know how far things would go. I can't be responsible for that. She was making a tremendous nuisance of herself with me. She's a nice child, but sometimes she can be overpowering, and frankly, I wasn't in the mood for fun and games. She got the message and began to make eyes at Tony.'

‘To make you jealous?'

‘I was jealous of Tony, all right, as jealous as hell. But not over her, over you. Tony was like a greedy little boy. He'd already got the pick of the crop, but he couldn't resist taking a bite of another cherry when it was dangled under his
nose.'

‘Tony thinks he's got the pick of the crop with Camille.'

‘He's only a boy. What does he know?'

She laughed. It was a lilting, joyous sound. ‘What would you have done if Tony hadn't fallen down the stairs and broken his leg on leaving Camille's apartment?'

‘You figured it out that he didn't fall down any stairs at the Ace of Clubs?'

‘I got it from Tony that there aren't any stairs at the Ace of Clubs. You could have told me that, instead of covering up for him. You covered for him about something else as well.'

‘Did I?'

‘Don't come the innocent. You were aware from the beginning that Tony knew about us. You knew how guilty I felt about not telling Tony and yet you said nothing.'

‘M'm. Found out about that as well, did you?'

‘Tony admitted that you passed the message via him that you weren't available if I phoned to inquire. That was horrible. How could you have been cruel enough to instruct anyone to say that to me?'

‘I had always stood tall in your eyes. I couldn't bear the thought of your seeing me on my back. I've always thought of myself as being one brave guy. They say everyone is allowed one lapse, and that was mine, my act of cowardice. I was too much of a coward to risk
your
rejection.'

‘So you rejected me.'

‘And regretted it a million times. You asked me why I covered for Tony. For various reasons, I suppose, all hinging on the fact that I didn't know how badly you'd got it for him. I didn't want to hurt you by telling you what a scheming louse he was and that he only wanted you—'

‘You can say it. He only wanted me to make you squirm.'

‘It's better that you said it for me. Secondly, I've never ratted on anyone in my life, and even if I had told you, would you have believed me? Thirdly, I fully intended to take you from him, but in a fair fight. And it's been that, Zoe,' he said, contesting the look she gave him, even if his smile was mischievous. ‘While some things are definitely not on, taletelling for example, a little honest to goodness chicanery is not only acceptable but considered fair play.'

‘You have a convenient sense of logic.'

‘Comes in handy. I don't know what I would have done if Tony hadn't helped me out by breaking a leg, but I would have thought of something to prevent the marriage taking place. There's only one man you're going to marry, and that's me.'

‘Am I?'

‘You wouldn't be challenging that, would you?'

‘No
way. Just confirming that I heard you right. I love you, Matt. Love you so much.'

‘I love you, Zoe. More than life itself. It's nice that you're willing, it makes it more peaceable, but I had every intention of getting you to the altar even if I had to drag you there by your beautiful hair.' He wound his fingers into it. ‘I need a shave. I didn't have time to get one before setting off. Come up with me while I get one now.'

‘If I go to your room with you, I don't think I'll get out again before morning.'

His hand left her hair and traced the narrow shoulder strap of her dress. ‘That's the general idea.'

She swallowed rawly. They had been so long denied. ‘No. Hannah and Tony will be home soon. You know she'll want to see you before going to bed. I'm not starting off on the wrong foot with my future mother-in-law. Is Hannah going to be surprised!' she exclaimed in nervous jubilation.

‘I doubt it. Overjoyed, not surprised,' Matt corrected. And she knew that he was right. ‘If you won't come with me, I'm not leaving you. Someone might spirit you away.' Gathering her into his arms, he rubbed his bristly chin across her forehead. ‘You'll just have to take the rough with the smooth.'

‘That's all I ever wanted, Matt. To share the rough with you, as well as the smooth. Instead of sending that snubbing message to be passed
on
to me, you should have got word to me about your accident.' She lifted her hand; her fingertips delicately followed the faint scar that crossed his eye. ‘Oh, my darling, I would have been by your side in a flash, and I never would have left you, no matter what.'

He acknowledged soberly, ‘That was a grave mistake on my part. Let's write it off, Zoe, and concentrate on—'

‘The future?'

‘The immediate present was what I had in mind,' he said, drawing her tenderly closer. ‘I've dreamed of this moment, had nightmares that it would never happen.' His lips skimmed over her eyelids, then locked on her mouth.

* * *

Matt gave her the choice of going anywhere in the world for their honeymoon, but he hadn't laughed when she expressed a wish to spend the first part of it at the
logis
where they had found shelter from the rain.

Berthe and Jean-Claude Poussin were delighted by the compliment paid to their modest establishment and gave the honeymooners a rapturous welcome. For their wedding night dinner they sat at the same table as before, side by side, barely noticing the celebration meal Jean-Claude had prepared for them. Everything still had the unreality of a dream come true.

‘How
can I be so lucky?' Matt asked.

‘I don't know. I was just asking myself the same thing.'

Madame's eyes followed them with smiling indulgence, and a little nostalgia maybe, as they left the dining room.

Zoe had thought she might be shy, but it seemed the most natural thing in the world to be undressed by Matt. It was a slow and sensuous process with many pauses for the removal of his clothes, in which she assisted, and for an exchange of caresses. When her gentle curves were fully exposed he carried her to the bed. He covered her face with kisses, tasting—the soft texture of her skin, the delicate skin of her eyelids and cheeks, the rich curve of her lips. His hands were so very, very loving, gentle, yet with a magical precision that arrested her breath and made her feel incredibly beloved and cared for. His fingertips were as expressive of his love as the words he whispered into her ear. Only when all the pleasures possible had been sated, and the expectation of what was to come had been savored to the limits of their joint restraint, did he draw her closer . . . and inexorably closer.

At first it was a gentle slide into ecstasy, a cherishing warmth and an endless sweetness, searing, tender, lifting her and whirling her forward. She was a sapling torn up by a storm and hurled into a new dimension of feeling . . . Sensations she would not have believed
possible
were gaining on the rapid beat of her heart, overtaking her breath. She could no longer even gasp out his name. Nothing, none of the previous delights, had prepared her for the ultimate joy, this incredulous escalation into the heart of passion's flame, a fire that consumed her, then cradled her in the most sublime peace and contentment she had ever known. Long afterward their bodies and arms were still entwined.

Sleep was a million light years away. Zoe slipped out of bed and crept to the window. Her elbows on the sill, still feeling wrapped in that enchanted bliss, she looked up at the huge moon, a symbol of constancy. The ardent assurance of Matt's love had melted all past anxieties away. Even feeling as smug as she did, she couldn't prevent tears of awe from glistening on her lashes, dazzling diamonds that splintered the moon into a brilliant orb, giving it a new face, and her thoughts a new slant.

Her vision had been splintered in evaluating her own feelings; she hadn't seen the truth of love clearly. Love wasn't any one thing; love was all things. She had been right in thinking that love was constancy, warmth, and caring—that blend of affection was vital—but she had been wrong in not realizing that love was also a burning passion that sometimes felt too hot to handle, that it had a meteoric brightness touched with a little moon madness and a lot
of
earthly magic.

‘Stop that moon gazing and come back to bed,' Matt called out softly. ‘You should be asleep.'

‘I can sleep later,' she said, anguished at the thought of sleeping away so much happiness.

‘Come back to bed,' he instructed thickly. ‘We'll both sleep later.'

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