Page 72

CHAPTER 14

RICHARD

A s I adjusted my tie, I turned to look down at my still-sleeping little bird. She was curled up in the center of our bed, safe and secure in her restraints.

She was back under my protection.

All was as it should be.

Soon, the world would know Elizabeth was mine and to harm her in any way would bring swift retribution from me.

More important, my plans were progressing rapidly. I would have my little bird back in her cage before the end of the month.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stroked her cheek. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Her emerald eyes fluttered open. Stretching out her arm, she asked, “What time is it?”

Checking my watch, I answered, “Almost three in the afternoon.”

Startled, she sat up. “I slept that late?”

“Well, you had a rather intense evening.”

I loved the way her cheeks flushed a hot pink whenever I reminded her of her punishments.

Tapping her on the nose, I teased, “If you are a good girl, and get out of bed now, I just might have a surprise for you.”

As she started to leave the bed, she bit her lip and turned worried eyes on me. “I have nothing to wear.”

I winked. “Do you honestly think I would let my baby girl come to Paris and not get her a new wardrobe for the trip?”

Her smile at the news faltered. “Richard, I’m sorry I didn’t come to you about the dead bird. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Pulling her close, I kissed her on her mouth, then the tip of her nose, then her forehead. “If you doubted, even for a moment, how strongly I feel about you… about us… then that is my fault. I just need to go to greater lengths to prove to you how much you mean to me, and that starts today. Get your lazy bones out of bed!”

Elizabeth giggled as I gave her curls a playful tug.

No matter how harsh I could be with her, the truth was I preferred her laughter to her cries.

After bundling her up in one of my silk robes, I insisted on carrying her down to the lower level where her surprise was getting set up in the ballroom.

“I can walk, you know,” she teased as she wrapped her hands around my neck.

“Nonsense. The marble floors are way too cold for your cute little toes.”

Putting her down on a settee that had been placed in the center of the polished wood floor for the occasion, I signaled to the butler we were ready. In short order, a small army of staff swept in. Placing a small, linen-draped table in front of us, they then filled it with platters of fresh fruit, pastries, shaved ham, and eggs.

Elizabeth rubbed her hands with glee as I poured her a cup of tea.

“I love this surprise!”

I scoffed, “You must have a very low opinion of my surprises if you think a simple breakfast is it.”

Turning to the butler, I instructed, “You may let them in.”

One by one, a parade of models walked under the low-hanging crystal chandeliers and passed the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, to stop in front of us.

“Richard!” exclaimed Elizabeth as she jumped up, then sat on her legs so she could prop up on the sofa a little higher as she threw her arms around my shoulders and kissed my cheek. “Is this what I think it is?”

“If you think it’s a private showing of the Yves Saint Laurent spring line, then the answer is yes,” I answered nonchalantly as I buttered a piece of toast. Although inside, I was more than pleased.

Truth was, until Elizabeth, I hadn’t really given much thought to fashion. I had professional stylists who chose the proper suits for me. Of course, I was photographed at the occasional fashion show, but that was more about business and politics than fashion. Yet, whatever my baby girl cared about, I would care about.

I know it pleased her when I showed an interest in what she wore or the latest designs from a particular designer, and what pleased her, pleased me.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace. I am Jean and I have the pleasure of presenting the spring collection to you today.” He had a high-pitched nasally voice with a rather unsettling way of emphasizing the first beat of every word. The small man was dressed in unrelenting black as he motioned toward the models.

“First, we have Marie. She is wearing a cut-out bustier bodysuit in a pleated lamé velvet with an over-the-knee boot in leopard print suede. Next we have Christine who is wearing a tuxedo jacket in gabardine with sequins with this year’s signature look, a pleated Bermuda short in shiny lambskin.”

Elizabeth hugged me again as I peeled a clementine for us both. Giving her another wink, I handed her a small slice.

“This is so cool! I feel like Audrey Hepburn in one of those movies. You know the ones, where she strolls into a department store and they come out with a fashion show full of gorgeous gowns and furs for her to choose from,” she chattered on excitedly.

I chuckled. “I will have to take your word for it, baby girl. Can’t say I’ve seen many Audrey Hepburn movies. “

“Next we have Lorraine in a long lavaliere-neck dress in embroidered silk muslin. She is accessorizing it with a chic corset belt in python and a cowrie shell heart pendant charm necklace,” droned on Jean.

Nodding, I offered, “I think you would look beautiful in that one.”

Elizabeth beamed. “You think?”

“The green and gold will match your eyes.”

Elizabeth put her head on my shoulder.

This.

This moment right here was everything to me.

Once more I vowed to take Elizabeth somewhere safe, where her whole world would be me and me alone. She might not like it at first, but eventually after she accepted her fate, she would. I’d make sure of it.

In the end, Elizabeth chose a ready-wear, single-breasted jacket in dark blue velvet and silk with a pair of light denim Bermuda shorts and a pointed-collar crepe de chine blouse to wear out as we toured the sights of Paris.

Jean then promised they would finish the alterations by this evening to a long obsidian dress in embroidered zebra silk muslin and a short silk dress of royal blue and gold. The rest would be shipped to my London address by the end of the week.

After sipping coffee as we strolled on the Pont des Arts Bridge looking over the Seine River while we listened to the street musicians play ‘La Vie en Rose,’ I took her to view the Luxembourg Palace Gardens.

“Next time, if I’m given a little notice of your desire to see Paris,” I said in a teasing voice, “I’ll arrange for a private tour of the Palace de Versailles.”

Elizabeth looked up at me with that adorable gamine face of hers. “Are you still angry… about… about what I did?”

At that moment we were passing a small park on the square at Place des Abbesses. Taking her hand, I led her to a large two-story-high wall of cobalt blue tile.

Her cute mouth opened in wonder as she stared at the small rectangular tiles, each with the phrase ‘I love you’ written in different languages in white cursive.

Wrapping my arms around her shoulders from behind, I kissed her neck and murmured softly into her ear, “This is the Le mur des je t’aime . The I Love You Wall. It’s made of enameled lava tiles and features the phrase ‘I love you’ over three hundred times in two hundred and fifty languages.”

“It’s so beautiful!”

Reaching over her shoulder, I pointed to the slashes of red that crisscrossed haphazardly across the entire wall. “Do you see the red?”

She nodded.

“The red is a broken heart torn apart and then put back together by the love the wall represents.”

“That’s so amazing,” she breathed as her hands came up to clasp my forearms.

“This wall is us… no matter how we may fight… no matter how we may tear each other apart… in the end, there will always be love. Love that is universal in any language.”

She turned in my arms and pulled my head down for a kiss.

“Paris is yours, my love. What would you like to do next?” Looking at my watch, I said, “We still have several hours before the special surprise I’m having prepared for you.”

Elizabeth bit her lip and looked up at me shyly. “Can we go home? I didn’t want to say anything, but my feet are killing me!”

I looked down at her little feet. “I warned you not to wear those strappy things.”

Elizabeth intoned in a nasally voice mimicking Jean from earlier, “Sir, these happen to be a pair of Yves Saint Laurent Cassandra stiletto platform sandals!”

“You should have worn something more sensible.”

“Walk around Paris in sensible shoes?” she repeated in mock horror. “Death first!”

Swinging her up into my arms, I gave her a suggestive wink. “Guess I’m just going to have to carry you all the way back to my bed.”

“I think I know what I want to do with the rest of my time in Paris,” she purred before biting my ear.

Damn, I loved this woman.

By the end of tonight, she would know just how much.