Page 36 of The Magic of Provence (A Year in France #3)

Bouton’s legs might have been a bit wobbly but she managed to stand by herself for the first time to drink a bottle of milk in the early hours of the following morning.

This was a real milestone because it meant that soon it would be possible for just one person to do the feeding and they could take turns and get some real sleep instead of the fitful dozing for what felt like only minutes at a time.

Being this tired was kind of like being rather drunk.

‘That was nearly two hundred mils,’ Fi said, as she rinsed out the bottle. ‘Does that mean we can increase the time between the feeds to two hours?’

‘I think so. Why don’t we try it this time? I’ll stay on the couch and you could go to bed for a couple of hours. I might even be able to manage to do it by myself.’

‘That’s not fair. You’re the one who’ll have to go to work later.’

‘I’m good at sleeping. Thank you for bringing pillows and blankets down for the couch.’

They both pulled a blanket over themselves as they settled back onto the soft leather cushions of the couch.

Being this tired also seemed to make you feel cold.

Fi was almost shivering, so she snuggled into the blanket she had taken from her bed upstairs, pulling it over her shoulders to tuck around her neck.

Bouton raised her head to look at them but then let it droop and closed her eyes again.

She didn’t need a blanket over her tonight.

With a little time to spare before the car trip up to the old barn in the mountains, and hearing what Fi was planning to do with Laura’s old jumper, Jeannie had dashed over with some wool needles, a ball of yarn and instructions.

Ellie had helped her cut the garment up and make it into a soft, warm coat for the foal.

She also had the warmth of another animal lying close by.

Heidi had taken her time to greet Bouton and let herself be sniffed and then she’d settled on the edge of the straw nest to guard the new baby.

Christophe smiled at his dog. ‘I think she’s in love,’ he said.

‘Bouton might start to think Heidi’s her mother.’

‘Marguerite and Coquelicot will take her place but it’s nice that she can have an animal friend inside, yes?’

Fi was smiling too. ‘It’s always special to see different animals that love being together.’

Christophe put a pillow behind his head. It was close enough to be touching Fi’s pillow. For a long moment, they sat there in silence. Fi was beginning to drift into sleep when she heard Christophe’s soft query.

‘Have you ever been in love, Fiona?’

Oh… She didn’t open her eyes. ‘Only once,’ she said. ‘So far.’

With him … and it wasn’t in the past tense.

Christophe’s body was close enough to her own to feel the tension gathering, like the string of a bow being pulled back. ‘Was it with him ?’ The word was the arrow being fired. ‘The bastardo who hurt you?’

‘ No .’ Fi shook her head sharply. Her desire for the attention of Murray McKay had been based on nothing more than a crush. It had never been love. She hadn’t known him and she’d found out the hard way that she couldn’t trust him. ‘I didn’t even know what being in love felt like back then.’

‘But you do now?’

Fi nodded. She couldn’t meet Christophe’s gaze and she couldn’t even begin to explain what it felt like to be experiencing this for the first time.

It was so totally different from the love she had for her mother and sisters.

The love that was still there for her father and was being uncovered enough to feel real but not the same as it had been.

It was different from the love that she felt for the children in her life now and the animals she loved to be around so much.

There were elements of how deep all those kinds of love could be but, if the love she had for all these people and animals were the shining stars of a night sky, this kind of love was the sun coming up the next morning.

Christophe’s voice broke the spell being cast by her thoughts.

‘Did he feel the same way?’ Christophe asked.

‘No.’ The word came out in a whisper.

‘That was unfortunate.’ Christophe’s tone was sympathetic. ‘Perhaps he couldn’t see how lucky he was.’

Oh, help… this was becoming a dangerous conversation.

‘It wasn’t his fault. He had his own issues and it didn’t help that I can’t… that I’m…’

… frigid ?

No. She couldn’t use that word. She had no doubt that the people who’d thought she was weird, like her old boss, might have used it when they were talking about that ‘weird Gilchrist girl’ behind her back, but maybe it wasn’t true.

She’d just never had the chance – or the courage – to even try and find out.

Not that she could say that to Christophe, of all people.

Fi knew she should stop talking. Right now.

But the words just formed themselves and fell out of her mouth.

‘It’s just because no one has ever wanted me,’ she said. ‘Not like that.’

She’d shocked herself as well as Christophe. The breath she caught a heartbeat later sounded horribly like a stifled sob. It was no surprise that Christophe put his arm around her shoulders, as if he wanted to comfort her.

‘That’s not true, amore ,’ he said softly. ‘You might not have seen it, but I can tell you that there are many people out there who will want you and… the man you choose will be the luckiest man in the world.’

Fi blinked hard. She didn’t want to cry. She especially didn’t want to cry in front of Christophe. She didn’t want to move out of the circle of his arm, either. She turned her head just enough that her cheek could press against his ribs.

‘Your trust got broken when you were hurt,’ he said quietly.

‘It’s no wonder that you find it hard to let anyone close enough to…

to love you back. But, you know… that kind of touching is simply the way to feel the love, instead of hearing it in words or seeing it on your lover’s face. It can be the most beautiful thing.’

Fi swallowed hard. ‘Is it like that for you?’

Christophe’s breath came out in a heavy sigh. ‘Yes and no. My trust got broken too. I can be in love, the sex can be extraordinaire but only for a short time. I can’t stay long enough to get hurt again. I have to escape before there’s any chance of that happening.’

‘I want that…’

She could feel a rumble of stifled laughter inside his chest. ‘To escape?’

‘No…’ Fi caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she tilted her head to look up at him. ‘I want to know what it’s like to have sex like that. I…’ This time, her new breath in was a tiny gasp. ‘I want to know if it’s even possible for me…’

‘I’m sure it will be,’ Christophe said. ‘If you are with someone you trust enough.’

This was it. The chance to take a leap of faith like no other.

‘I trust you …’

She felt the press of Christophe’s lips against her hair. It wasn’t a kiss, just a soft pressure. The edges of his voice were rough now. ‘You are safe with me, Fiona. I promise you.’

It was that thought that undid her.

The thought that Christophe could care enough for her to promise what she needed more than anything else. The reassurance that she could trust him.

She felt safe.

More than that, she felt cared for.

Loved , even.

‘I do want to kiss you,’ Christophe said then. ‘I want to show you that it’s possible for you, cara . If you’ll let me? You can tell me to stop at any time and I promise you I will.’

Fi’s heart missed a beat and then started racing.

She had never trusted anyone as much as she trusted this man but a part of her was still terrified.

The pain and shock of losing her virginity to rape was a big part of that, but there was something even deeper that was always there and that had come from the chant of shame in her childhood that she didn’t look like her sisters.

‘The chubby one – with the hair like a wire pot scourer, poor bairn.’

And the worst one?

‘…look at yourself in the mirror, Fiona Gilchrist. Who’d want you…?’

Christophe did.

He’d grown up with women who looked very much like her and he adored them, so maybe she didn’t need to feel ashamed of her body. And maybe he was doing this simply out of the kindness of his heart because he could see the walls she’d built around herself, but did that matter?

Even if it could only ever happen this once, Fi wanted it.

This could be the only chance she’d ever have of finding out what it was about sex that could be so amazing.

She would understand, then, the undercurrents of a physical bond that Ellie and Julien had with each other.

And Laura and Noah. Maybe it was even being found again between her parents.

A facet of love that might be a key ingredient she still hadn’t discovered in the magic of being in love.

Aye… she wanted this. More than she had ever wanted anything. And she wanted it beyond anything her head was telling her. This was a need rather than merely a want, and it was coming from her heart and soul, not her head.

Fi could feel the beat of her blood pulsing in her neck as she finally looked up to meet his gaze.

His face was so close to hers she could feel the warmth of his skin and the puff of his breath.

She felt his forehead touch hers for a steady beat and then the tip of his nose against hers, giving it a tiny rub.

‘I want you to kiss me,’ she whispered.

She didn’t close her lips after the last word left them and his lips were so close to hers she could feel them tingling with the touch that was like a butterfly’s wing as he moved his lips across hers.

The way he let the air out of his chest was a sigh that sounded like pure pleasure.

He was savouring this. He wanted it to last. He was enjoying being so patient.

Fi could feel the sigh reverberating in her own body. She was relaxing. Sinking into this space that had just become their own private world. Okay, there might be a large dog and a tiny donkey in the corner of the room but they were both sound asleep. It was just her and Christophe.

And she was safe.

Fi pressed her mouth closer to his and let her tongue emerge far enough to taste his bottom lip. Could he feel the ripple of sensation that made a tiny shudder skate down her spine?

He must have, because one of his hands slid onto the skin of her neck, softly rubbing each bump of her spine down to her shoulders. He was still kissing her but his tongue hadn’t come to meet hers. He wasn’t going to go any faster than she wanted him to. Or do anything that would scare her.

And, suddenly, that made her brave.

She knew she wanted this.

And now she wanted more .

Her tongue found his and it took this kiss into a realm that was completely new to Fi. How was it that she could feel the slide of his tongue against hers echoing in the most secret part of her body? The place that she’d thought she would never want any man to touch again.

Amazingly, she wanted that now too, and it was an ache of need that she’d never felt before. Strong enough to break a kiss that was more than capable of drugging her senseless.

‘Touch me,’ she murmured. ‘ Please …’

With a soft groan, he moved his mouth so that his lips were against her neck and she knew he could feel that pulse beating against his lips.

He traced his fingers along her collarbone and then flicked open a couple of buttons on her shirt, and he was touching the soft skin of her breast and finding the hard pebble of her nipple to send a streak of sensation fanning out like flames erupting.

It was her turn to make a sound – one of astonished pleasure – and his hand stilled instantly. He pulled his head back and Fi stared up at him.

‘Don’t stop,’ she begged, her words urgent. ‘I want you. All of you…’

* * *

Christophe hadn’t intended to rush this in any way.

He’d been waiting for this moment and he wanted it to be the best it could possibly be.

This was the lesson in lovemaking he had imagined more than once – the one that would show Fiona how beautiful it could be to communicate by touch.

To stroke and kiss and taste the body of someone you could absolutely trust not to hurt you.

This was exactly the gift he’d hoped to give her.

A healing experience that could quite possibly change the rest of her life.

He hadn’t expected it to be the best sex of his own life.

He could feel her responses as sharply as his own when they had helped each other undress and were skin to skin on this wonderful old couch.

He soothed goosebumps on her skin with his tongue and lips.

He guided her tentative hand to show her how he liked to be touched but he let her decide if, when and how she wanted him inside her.

It felt as if she knew she was in control and she was safe – right until the moment the ripples of her climax made her fall apart in his arms with a cry of ecstasy that was somehow in the shape of his name, and it only took one more thrust for him to join her in falling over the edge of bliss.

Christophe wasn’t at all surprised that Fiona was crying in his arms afterwards.

He had no words to tell her that he understood how big this had been for her.

Or what a privilege it had been to be the one who had led her past such a barrier in her life.

He knew he didn’t actually need to say anything.

He just needed to hold her.

And let her cry.