The Last Kiss: A Standalone Romance Novel (The Notting Hill Sisterhood Book 1)

by Anna Bloom

  “Oh.” It hits like a punch in the gut.

  Stupid Julianna.

  “Sure, not a problem at all.” I smile, gathering the sheet around me further, covering my exposed skin.

  His smile falters, that beautiful seriousness taking its place. “I am truly sorry.”

  “It’s fine, we don’t owe one another anything. Not an issue. I have plans this evening anyway.” I clamber across the mattress on my knees in the opposite direction to his naked perfection and struggle off the bed in my self-created wedding dress of bed sheets.

  “Juliette,” he snaps.

  Oooh, no. No one snaps at me… well apart from Liv.

  Using my hand as a shield between us I edge away. “I’ll get dressed quickly and be out of your way.”

  “Juliette.” He pounces up from the bed, crowding into my space. I’m not sure if he realises he is still naked. His dick is just swinging out there, brazen as you like. I, on the other hand, am slowly morphing myself into an ancient mummy with a hundred thread count Egyptian cotton. With his large hands he grasps my shoulders, holding me back from edging towards the safety of the en suite. The midnight gaze watches me, waiting for something.

  “I am so glad I saw you yesterday.” A smile flits across his mouth. “At first I thought you were a mirage because I’d thought of you so often.”

  I nod. “You always turn up just when I need it.” My words feel empty though and I hate the space in them.

  “You’re cross?” He crouches down and I can’t help but do a swift dick sweep with my gaze.

  “No.” I sigh because I’m really not. How can I be cross when this isn’t meant to be anyway? “I guess I’m just disappointed.”

  He smiles, fingers squeezing my knees. “I can feel your rules crumbling, ma Juliette.”

  “Well, they aren’t now, are they?” Forcing a smile, I reach forward to kiss his lips. “Thank you for another lovely evening.”

  “Thank you,” he whispers against my mouth and it awakens something hungry and needy inside of me.

  I don’t want to walk away from him, but I have to. He’s a stranger in a hotel room. Nothing else.

  “I’ll do you a deal.” He catches my chin and makes me look at him.

  “Uh huh.” He’s the breaker of deals. He promised me breakfast and my stomach is grumbling.

  “We meet one more time. One more chance for fate to tell us that this is meant to be something other than anonymity in a hotel room, and you tell me your name.”

  My mouth flaps open. “But…”

  “No buts. I have a feeling here.” He lightly punches his stomach and I feel it in my own, it’s a hollow pit of expectation. “It tells me that to walk away from you is wrong, but I can sense the boundaries you have in place.” He lightly pushes his index finger in the space above my heart. “The first moment I met you, I could see them.”

  “Don’t.” I push his hand away. He’s too close to my bitter truth.

  “Next time you tell me your name. Next time you let me in.”

  “I have let you in.”

  He shakes his head, lips turned down. “No, you haven’t.”

  “What if I can’t?”

  He shrugs. Bloody Frenchman.

  “Okay. Next time.” I agree knowing that there can’t be a next time.

  Time is ticking along. I can feel it within me, using the same force as the hand on the clock at Waterloo keeps moving. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

  “Next time, ma petite. I think you will be mine.”

  He kisses me again as the awful truth awakens inside of me and no matter how much I try to push it back down I can’t quite manage it.

  I am already.

  This man with the hands, the eyebrows that talk. The achingly beautiful seriousness that shifts into a breath-taking smile with the rush of a breeze.

  Yeah. I could live for another hundred years, be the oldest woman alive and I’d still be thinking of him living under my skin, the warmth of him against the warmth of me.

  Yep. I really am a fool.

  13

  Fate is a mean mistress

  “Come on, Jules.” Flynn gives me his best puppy dog eyes across the space of our conjoined desks. “One glass of wine.”

  “I told you already, I can’t.”

  “Give me one good reason.” He holds a finger up, pouty lips sulking at the edges.

  “I’ve given you five already.”

  Flynn smirks. “Tell me again. You give me five and I will stop asking.”

  “One. I have to go and get Paige’s birthday present, which I’ve left until the last minute. Two, it’s unprofessional in a workplace to go for drinks that constitute a date.” He opens his mouth up, but I stop him with my hand. “Three, I’ve got all this digital stuff to do. I’ve got to show it to Rebecca next week for her approval for me to show the board. I’m running late with it. I’ll be working all evening. And four, I just don’t like you in that way.”

  “Ha! You said five.”

  “Sorry, four and five are the same, I should have said that.”

  Luckily, we are stopped by the clack of Rebecca’s heels. Louboutin’s today, the red of the sole to match the red of her silk shirt. “Jules, a word.”

  Flynn frowns at me and I glance up at him. Why does it sound like I’m in trouble? He shrugs, but it has none of the appeal of a French shrug.

  Stop it. Stop thinking about him.

  Rebecca ushers me in. “Julia darling, I’ve been watching you.”

  “You have?” Okay, bit weird but we can roll with it. “I promise I said no to Flynn if that’s what you are worried about and heard him asking.” I pull at the edge of my blouse. “I know that would be frowned upon.”

  “What’s that, darling?”

  “Flynn… uh.” I stop talking.

  “Oh, he’s asked you out again has he? I have to say, Julia, you’ve done well to avoid his advances all this time. I put his desk there just so he’d give you a little sunshine.”

  “I can assure you all he’s given me is a migraine.”

  Rebecca tinkles her little laugh. “So, tell me about your plans for this weekend?”

  Oh… that’s what this is. It’s the Friday afternoon pity chat. Ha-ha! I do have plans.

  “It’s Paige’s fourth birthday, so Liv has a party planned at her house.”

  “A day with the Notting Hill set. All married and settled down, are they? Smug and satisfied?” Rebecca views monogamy the way that I view raisins; unnecessary, total waste of time (and calories) and maybe a trick of the devil himself.

  “Nope, I don’t think so.”

  I’ve never stopped to ponder on just how Liv has managed to surround herself with people as equally useless in love as her. I find myself shrugging, my mind automatically slipping to a mysterious little pocket of France where a man I unexpectedly miss lives. It’s been six weeks since our night of Boutique Hotel Heaven and I’m pretty sure fate has decided twice is enough.

  Damn you, fate.

  And damn me for being a stubborn bitch. What’s a number or name swap between two people who have shared bodily fluids?

  “Okay, so listen.” Rebecca straightens her spine and recrosses her legs, flashing me the vibrant red of her soles. Her fingers clasp a diamond pendant around her neck, and I sense something in her that I’ve never seen before. I can practically smell it. Uncertainty.

  “So, I don’t want you to be upset.”

  My smile tightens on my face. “That’s not a great start.”

  “I know how desperately you want to get us digitised.”

  “Rebecca, I’m not doing it because I’m bored; it’s the only way for us to survive.”

  “Yeees… that’s the thing, darling. We might not try. The board are in discussions to fold.”

  I stare at her, my mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

  “It’s not definite, not at all, but I just wanted to talk to you about it. You’ve been here such a long time, given so much of your creativi
ty and drive to me, when really you probably should have left ages ago and gone somewhere better.”

  I rub absently at my chest. I know and she knows why I’ve stayed. “I want to be here. It’s a massive part of my life.”

  “Julianna, there is so much more to life than being here with a needy ex-socialite and a bunch of crusty old men.”

  “Don’t be so harsh on yourself. You’re more than an ex-socialite.”

  “I wasn’t talking about me, I meant Flynn.” She grins, a splash of bright-red lipstick. “I only hired him because I thought you might like him.”

  “Rebecca!” I’m honestly shocked. “That’s no reason to hire a person.”

  She scrunches her face, her practically lineless and ageless skin crinkling for a moment. “It didn’t work anyway, did it?” She taps her ruby nails on her desk. “It’s such a shame you don’t date. It’s not good for you to be living in that flat with that awful cat.”

  “For the record there is nothing wrong with Barney, and I do date. I just don’t feel the need to waste my time on pointless hours spent with someone that I probably don’t like that much.”

  She narrows her gaze, analysing, and I pull at my hair, fiddling with the ends. “Hmm, why? You’re a good-looking woman. I just don’t get it.”

  I shrug… brain… France… again…

  With a deep sigh I slump back a little in the chair. “I guess I spent too long trying to be the good girl.”

  “Good girls are a bore, Julianna. Be bad for a change.”

  I nod, although I know the ticking death sentence hanging above my head has limited opportunities to re-acquaint myself with my bad side. She’s been locked up a long time.

  “Would you mind if I head off? I’ve got to get to Hamleys to get Paige’s present. I’ve left it until the last moment again.”

  “Sure, sure.” Her gaze meets mine, devilish flash in the depth of it. “Want to take Flynn with you?”

  Shaking my head, I get up and smooth down my skirt. “Don’t mind if I pass.”

  “Have fun at Hamleys.”

  I shoot her an evil stink eye. “No adult ever had fun at Hamleys ever.”

  “Have a good weekend, Julianna. Don’t eat too much jelly and ice cream.”

  Like she thinks that’s the highlight of my weekend… oh wait.

  “Rebecca?” I stop and turn at the door.

  “Mm?” She’s pretending to look at something important, but I know she has Vogue under the paperwork—I can see the thick edge of the glossy mag.

  “Don’t sell yet, will you? I really want to get us online.”

  She looks up, defeat on her face. “We wouldn’t be selling, Julia. We’d need to close. No one wants to go into business with us. And who can blame them?”

  “But if we were online and current they might. You could get that place in the Bahamas after all.”

  Rebecca claps her hands with amusement. “Darling, I already have one. God awful place with those mosquitos.”

  And there you have it. A different breed of woman altogether.

  “See you Monday.” I slip out of her office and grab my stuff, quickly shutting down my computer before Flynn can ask me for that glass of wine again. I need to hit Hamleys and get home. I’m tired. More than tired. I’m exhausted, and there is no chance in hell that I can let Liv see that tomorrow. I’ll hide it for as long as possible before I let her see the truth that time is slipping away.

  “Bloody Hamleys bear,” I’m grumbling under my breath as I get out of the cab. I was going to do the Tube, but my chest felt too tight. I couldn’t walk because of my heels, rather than the exhaustion pulling my body down until I’m almost parallel with the pavement. So, I went for a black cab and joyfully spent ten quid stuck in a three mile traffic jam.

  Damn heels.

  And damn dying.

  And damn, damn Hamleys bears. I should have got one off eBay.

  Stopping myself, I draw in a deep breath. This isn’t who I want to be. I don’t want to be an aunt who wouldn’t travel to the moon via Mars if it meant getting the bear my niece wanted. Liv, Paige, and Lenny, they are all I have really. And Barney. The least I can do is throw myself into an oversized and overpriced toy store to get her the perfect teddy bear.

  Right. Let’s. Do. This.

  I look up at the store and briefly wonder if you can go in swigging from a bottle of wine. I’m distracted from the famous drummer boy symbol by a shadow rushing towards me, a cloud on an intent gust of wind.

  Hands clutch my elbows, but instead of screaming or fending for my life with my handbag as a weapon, I’m shuddering, breathing out a long held bated breath.

  Breathing the same air as… as…

  “Henri Carré.” His lips crush into mine, and I moan a deep and toe-curling sigh.

  Fate, you wily beast, I thought you’d let me down.

  It hits me how much I’ve been craving this moment, desperately waiting without wanting to give meaning to the ache festering under my skin. The grey of my world bursts into colour with the press of his lips.

  Henri. The perfect name.

  Henri.

  I pull away, blinking up into his wide smile.

  “I knew it was meant to be.” He presses his words against my mouth, my cheeks, and I’m disarmed by his open and frank emotional capacity.

  In return I do what I’ve been trained to do in my role as British middle-class citizen. I shift from foot to foot until he chuckles, rumbling it inside of me until I’m all jelly and warm.

  “And you are?” He prompts with a curve of his eyebrow.

  “I’m Julia. Julianna Brown.”

  His eyes dance. “I was so close with Juliette.”

  “So close!”

  His hands rest on my shoulders, burning through the loose knit of my cardigan.

  “Did you really believe it was meant to be?” I whisper.

  His smile, it’s so beautiful, so earnest, it’s like the first bloom of a daisy under the May sunshine. “I never had any doubt.” He tucks a wayward hair behind my ear. “So where are we going?”

  “We?” I frown.

  “Yes. I said, next time you let me in.”

  Jeez, can he remember every word we’ve ever said? I glance at his chest. He’s not wearing a suit today, just a white shirt rolled at the sleeve and tucked into immaculately tailored trousers at the waist.

  “Are you answering with that wandering hungry stare of yours, ma petite?”

  I pat his pecs—because why not?

  “I’m still adjusting to seeing you again. Here. Outside bloody Hamleys. What are the chances?” I pull back an inch. “Wait a minute. You aren’t following me, are you? Fate isn’t fate if it’s had a helping hand.”

  “Me?” Holding his hands palm up he looks up at the sky. “I’d never mess with fate. She’s a mean mistress if you don’t do what she wants.”

  I love how he talks. He’s like a poet, every word lyrical and layered with emotion and integrity. I’ve never met a single person like him in my life, he’s unique.

  Unique. One of a kind. He’s been sent to me for a reason. I see that now.

  I wind my fingers through the waves at the nape of his neck and pull his mouth down to mine, hungrily seeking that warm, succulent taste that sets off fireworks in every cell of my body. Uncaring of our standing outside a toy shop, I slip my tongue into his mouth, seeking him out. In return he greets me back and long needed oxygen explodes in my chest.

  Then I pull back and smack him on the chest. “It’s been six weeks. I didn’t think I’d see you again.” My eyes sting, unexpected and unwanted, and I blink the tell-tale salt water away.

  “I’m here now. So where are we going, or is it a mystery?”

  “What time is your train?” I really, really need to buy this damn teddy bear, but then I also need to spend any grasped moments with my mystery man… Henri. I taste his name on my tongue.

  He shrugs.

  Damn that man.

  “Would it alar
m you if I told you I was here for the weekend?”

  I register his words, letting them sink in, like dropping low into a perfect temperature bath that encases you in luxury.

  “A whole weekend?” My eyes are wide.

  “Is that a good-scared look or a bad-scared look?”

  “A whole weekend?” I repeat.

  He laughs, tucking my hair, thumb brushing my cheekbone. “The whole weekend.”

  We are causing a massive obstruction on the street, but still he leans down and brushes my lips with his. “What do you think?”

  What do I think?

  Oh, who cares. I’m pretty sure this is one of those life defining moments where you aren’t supposed to think. Like the first night we met. Or the time after.

  Basically, I haven’t thought since we met.

  “I think yes.” I launch myself into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, peppering kisses on his face. He smells of spice and smoke, sunshine, lavender fields and all the unknown things I will probably never know.

  He smells of what I hope heaven will be.

  “Get a room.” I crack my eyes open at two teenage girls in tracksuits who strut by.

  “I will when I’m good and ready!” I call after them to which one gives me the finger over her shoulder. Youths these days, don’t they have any respect?

  Henri grins and lowers me to the floor. “You know if I’d known you’d be so happy to see me, I’d have come back weeks ago.” His smile is taunting.

  “You’re really here for the whole weekend?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you want to spend it with me?” Let’s clarify this point.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve got to go in there.” I point to the inner circle of hell, which is screaming children rolling on the floor because they can’t have the toys they want.

  He crooks his arm. “Then let’s go.”

  “Oh shit.” We’ve only walked one step and already there is a clanger in the plan. “It’s my niece’s birthday tomorrow. I’m so sorry.” I smack myself on the forehead and make him smirk.

  “That’s fine.”

  “I can see you as soon as the party is over if you’ll wait for me?”