“You’re right though I feel surprising better now I’m at the top, now I can see the whole of Paris around me. It’s so beautiful.”
“Yes, it is.”
I feel his arms slide around my waist, encouraging me to lean back into him and I do, twisting my neck to smile up at him and then I see it, he’s not looking at the amazing view ahead of us at all but looking down at me and my skin warms. I feel completely adored by him at all times, how could I have ever questioned his commitment to me?
The nearby telescope beckons to me to peer through its shiny silver form and we pop in a coin and suddenly the blurs below are so much clearer. Seb happily showcases his knowledge of the city, pointing out areas of interest.
“There is the Arc de Triomphe, and there is The Louvre…”
“It’s too big for me to see in a long weekend - we need more time…” I sigh, turning to face him.
“I love seeing you this relaxed and looking so happy, Lu.”
“I am happy. I’m with you. I’m sorry I’ve not been myself the past few weeks.”
“You don’t need to apologise, baby.” He kisses my head and I lean into him, inhaling his scent. “You needed time - we needed time - we have forever to work through things, figure out our shit but these first few weeks were important for you to heal inside and out. I was Ok to wait and give you the breathing space you needed, and just hoped you’d come back to me.”
I grab his hand and we walk forward a few paces, and I feel my mouth grow dry. I’ve never been one to run out of words, always been able to talk for England but all of a sudden I’m shy and struggling to string a sentence together. Maybe it’s the power of the tower, so many movies had been set here before, romantic interludes had taken place between lovers just like us. I lick my lips and straighten my tartan wrap nervously, placing my handbag down on the floor beside me.
Seb is now looking out over Paris, one palm firmly placed on the rail in front of him, as he takes in the sights. Without releasing his hand I take advantage of the fact that his head is turned away from me and lower myself to the floor, on bended knee with my heart beating erratically within my chest I at last find the words I’d been mulling over in my head for the past 72 hours.
“Baby…”
At the sound of my voice Seb turns to look at me and his dark chocolate eyes drop to find me staring up at him.
“What? Lu?”
“Just go with it - no questions… please? Or I won’t get through this.”
With his slow nod I proceed, exhaling a whoosh of jittery emotions. “Wow - this seems much easier in the films. Right. Here goes. Seb… the day you proposed to me was the very best and worst day of our lives. I couldn’t compute what you were offering me in the manner it deserved nor take it as seriously as I truly wanted to. It didn’t feel real somehow, you know? You have been amazing these past weeks, you are everything to me, you’re my best friend, my lover and my life and I want to spend the rest of my years with you, without irrefutable doubt. I knew that a decade ago if I’m honest but was too stubborn to see it and life got in the way on far too many occasions to count. This monument is supposed to be the place you bring the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, well… I have… I waited 29 years for you.”
I stop to take a breath and roll my lips to appease the brewing tidal waves of emotion, and he strokes my hand soothingly in encouragement. I nod and with a shrug, maintaining direct eye contact, I continue.
“I can’t see a future without you in it - you’re my waking thought and in my dreams at night. I love you with all of my heart and you will make an incredible father to Finn and any other children we may be fortunate enough to have.”
The tears that threatened earlier begin to roll down my cheeks with these last ten words, my voice breaking, and I notice Seb’s eyes begin to well; as we remember what could have been only weeks ago. I take another deep breath and inhale to calm myself; I can do this, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.
“So, Mr. Silver, it’s not traditional and doesn’t fit in with your controlling alpha ways but before my knee gives out, what do you say to your lady proposing to you on the top of the Eiffel Tower - will you marry me? Make me the happiest woman alive?”
I watch my beautiful man wipe a tear from his eye and nod silently; his eyes full of love and pride and I smile back at him, biting my lip in expectation.
“Yes, baby, of course I will – you are mine, forever. Great minds bloody well think alike!”
The next few moments go by in a blur as I’m lifted from my position and into his arms and then we are spinning as he rains kisses over my face, salty kisses, as we entwine our bodies tightly and I wrap my legs around him, his hands cupping my bottom to balance me. We literally hug each other for what seems an age and leaning back I take a long hard look at his handsome face, those sexy chocolate orbs crinkling at the corners and full lips smirking.
“You’re amazing - how’d I get so lucky?”
“We both did.”
“I love you, baby.” He kisses the tip of my nose lovingly and I smile at this familiar gesture.
“I love you too, Seb - words can’t express how much.”
“You did pretty well, baby. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you, me too.” I laugh. “Like you said great minds…
“Well. Speaking of that, do you fancy a glass of champagne to celebrate and toast our engagement?”
“I was just about to suggest that. I’ve wanted to come to this Champagne Bar forever - another thing to tick off my bucket list.”
We walk the few steps around the corner, past a few onlookers, who’d witnessed my proposal and wanted to congratulate us and wish us well. Then hand over my iPhone for one of them to take some pics of us, at the top of the Eiffel Tower, so we have a memory of the event. The stranger very kindly follows us to the minky brown coloured shop, with the fabulously retro ‘Bar A Champagne’ sign lit up in shocking red and waits with his girlfriend enjoying the view until we are ready, whilst we grab our champagne, so he can take another picture for us. What awaits us, however completely floors me; a bottle of Laurent Perrier Cuvèe Rosé, my absolute favourite, rests in an ice bucket, accompanied by two glasses, both poured and a printed notice from the staff at the Eiffel Tower, presented in a clear plastic stand that reads,
WTF? “I don’t understand? How did they know? I didn’t tell them? I didn’t arrange this? I’d planned to have a glass of champers but the sign? Eh?” I look back at Seb in complete shock and then it clicks, dawning realisation striking me like a ton weight and I shake my head on a smile. “You?”
He shrugs his shoulders and winks sexily. “Me. Like I said, great minds.”
“You were going to propose?”
“I was. I wanted to do it again… properly. I’d fucked up royally last time. Fancy proposing to the love of your life on her hospital bed, after she’d just had surgery and you had your mind on other things…”
I reach out and cup his face, the stubble tickling my palm. “I adored your proposal, baby, it meant everything to me. I was just worried you felt you had to do it, that it was the right thing to do.”
“I know, I knew you felt that way and you retracted from me as you healed and the more I wanted to pull you back to me, the more you pushed away and all I wanted to say was I want you and only you and I meant every single fucking word of that proposal. You’re it, Lu. THE ONE.”
I lean in and kiss his lips, slowly pressing my body into his, and whisper into his mouth. “You are my one, always were and always will be.”
“We’ve both proposed so can we now tell the whole world?”
“Not without toasting it first? That will seal the deal. Well that and when I take you back to the hotel and make you mine.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Here,” he passes me a chilled flute of semi-filled fizzing sweet champagne and I accept greedily, as he lifts his own and we clink glasses. �
��To us, it took a decade of dancing around the issue of amalgamating sex and friendship, now we’ve mastered them both we can move forward as man and wife.”
“I can’t wait to be your wife, Seb.”
“Good, because I’m not waiting long - you have three weeks to sort it and that’s it! I won’t wait a minute longer.”
“Three weeks, baby - I can’t plan a wedding in three weeks!!!”
“Ok, four but not another day.”
“Six and I’m not budging on that - no negotiations and believe me that’s fair, six weeks is ridiculous - our mothers will go spare!”
“Done. Now drink up.” His hand lifts the bottom of my glass forcing me to take a huge gulp of champagne and I flinch as I’m hit in the mouth with a foreign object. “I don’t remember there being ice in the glass.”
“It’s not ice, well not the kind that melts anyway.”
I frown and immediately look down, to see something twinkling in the bottom of my drink. I quickly pour the remnants of the liquid into a spare glass and retract the sparkling jewel, which refracts prisms of light around us, completely hypnotizing me. I find it hard to breathe as I take in the beauty of an engagement ring, turning it every which way. It was enormous!
“Do you like it?” His voice breaks a little and I can tell it means everything to him, that I approve. “I had it designed specially for you at Harry Winston’s here in Paris, however if it is not you, we can replace it or have it re-sized, without question. I decided against the biggest, flashiest they did, it just wasn’t you and went for the three carat.”
“Oh, baby - Oh. My. God. I absolutely love it. It’s stunning.”
Taking the ring, he dries it delicately with a paper towel and then asks for my left hand, before slipping this token of our declaration to one another gracefully onto my wedding finger, and I know before its securely in place, that it will fit perfectly; which it does. The huge brilliant diamond is framed by smaller micropavé ones that sparkle with each movement and are all set on a slim band of the same pave diamonds with platinum. It is simple, elegant and timeless, yet contemporary all at once.
“Seb, its perfect, darling and very me.” I hold my hand out, fluttering my fingers in glee. “You know me so well.”
“Yes, I do and my ring is just where it’s meant to be. God, I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Behind us, we hear applause, people laughing and cheering and celebrating for us, and it makes me tear up again. A crowd has grown, the couple that had waited to take our photo at the centre of it all and we hand them our phones and pose proudly, earning more applause. The whole moment is magical.
We finish our champagne and holding hands head off in the direction of the stairwell, ready to make our descent officially, as an engaged-couple. It felt different somehow.
Hopeful.
We had a future together.
On the first floor we visit one of the shops and buy Finn an Eiffel Tower t-shirt and pencil case I know he’ll love and Seb insists on purchasing me a snow-globe with the tower in its glittery depths to add to my growing collection.
“Any more shopping baby, or are you going to feed me on this adventure of yours?”
“We only ate a couple of hours ago, you greedy boy!” I smile at him, shivering as the cool wind whips up through the lattice tower. “Do you fancy eating here in the 58 tower restaurant, or should we wander along the Pont d’lena and see what takes our fancy?”
“I already know what takes my fancy. Why don’t we cut this short and head back to the hotel - grab room service and let me eat it off your delectable body. You’re wearing far too many clothes and you know how I feel about that. I want to make love to you, and take my sweet slow time, with you wearing nothing but my ring.” He winks at me and we step into the lift to reach the bottom quicker.
“You’re so impatient! Part of the experience is walking down the tower after we’ve seen the top.”
“We’ve already walked half way down and now I just want to get you naked, happy to crack on with that here though if you’re Ok with that?” My look of horror is enough of an answer and he grins wickedly. “No? Right then, lift it is then!”
At the bottom, we cannot help but notice La Carousel and I immediately turn into ten year old little girl, excited and desperate to clamber onto a garishly coloured horse, with the assistance of Seb. Despite his hunger he placates me, lifting me onto it, his fingers lingering a little longer than necessary, caressing the skin that’s bared as my jumper rises, and my body tingles immediately. Climbing onto his own animal, to my right, I grin as we both realise that he will be riding a tiger, how very apt. We talk and laugh like kids, as we ride that beautifully decorated carousel three times, the lights twinkling brightly and French music playing reminding me of one of my favourite movies Gigi, with the gorgeous Louis Jourdan - I was in my element - it was so romantic and the perfect end to our proposal, but finally, we cave and give in to the noisy rumbles of our bellies.
I manage to convince Seb to go for lunch on our way home, popping into a quaint little French bistro, Le Casse Noix for steaming hot bowls of French onion soup, filled with crispy toasted croutons and served with freshly baked warm baguettes, and a warmed red bordeaux by the fire. We make a quick call to my parents and in between the squeals from my mum I manage to divulge our news. My Dad already knows he informs me and I lift inquisitive brows to Seb?
His sheepish shrug makes him appear younger than his 31 years and I breathe deeply, loving his boyish charm. “I asked for your hand in marriage a few weeks ago.”
I mouth ‘Oh’ before rounding up my excitable mum and ending our conversation. We then contact Seb’s parents, who are just as thrilled but also don’t seem so surprised at our news. I’m beginning to wonder whether Seb may have kept schtum since the first proposal after all?
“We need to call Suzie & Gino, and your brother. Oh and Abby - then I can just post the images from the Eiffel Tower on social media.”
His husky chuckle makes me glance up.
“What?”
“Take a breath.”
“I just want to tell the world.”
“I know and so do I. Let’s make these last three calls and that is it. Then send it viral so everyone can see that you are going to be my wife.”
An hour later I’m being bundled into a taxi and hurtling through traffic to our hotel, my lover’s illicit words in my ear and excitement building in my tummy and in between my thighs, it was now entirely official - everybody would know that we were engaged to be married.
*******
They were fucking ENGAGED!
Seriously? Did she not appreciate anything he had done for her?
Everything had gone to shit!
If he didn’t stop biting the skin around his nail soon, he’d hit bone - literally. His thumb was raw and bleeding from the incessant gnawing whilst angrily grinding his teeth, a unattractive habit he’d had under control for years but had recently fallen back into, thanks to this bitch and her constant drama.
He uses that same thumb pad to swipe across his iPhone, enjoying the pain that slices through his body with the additional agonising pressure, manically scouring his Facebook newsfeed for further information from the happy couple. His phone had alerted him to a new image on Instagram only minutes earlier, then only a few minutes later, the same sweet sickly photograph appeared on Lucia’s twitter and Facebook accounts. His day was ruined.
Bitch!
He squints looking closer at the image. Fucking cheesy or what? Where are they? It didn’t look local. His eyes narrow at the sign behind Sebastian and Lucia, its red neon lights blurring in the image. It would be champagne with this guy, of course it would. Give him an hour and he’d have their location. He smiles smugly to himself before reverting back to anger.
“What the hell do I have to do to convince her that Sebastian Silver is not the man for her? Eh?”
Surely losing
their foetus would push them apart, or at least put pressure on their pathetic relationship - if you could call it that - they’d only been together a few fucking weeks!
No, Silver wasn’t half as invested in this woman as he was - he’d made it his mission to make Lucia his and now his last attempts had backfired entirely. All they had done was ensure that she wasn’t mauled and manhandled by that gigolo for more than two minutes of every hour. All it had done was bring them closer together and taken her further away from my grasp. Now they were fucking engaged!
He assesses the photo for the umpteenth time since receiving the notification and grinds his teeth down hard on his tongue. Pain helped him concentrate and kept him calm.
ENGAGED!
His roar of frustration echoes into the night. “This isn’t happening! It isn’t possible. What is it going to take to convince this bitch that the player is not the stayer.”
Think, man, think - what is your next move?
He smashes a palm into the side of his head once, twice, three times before stopping to take a deep breath, inhaling intensely. His blue eyes squinting with precise concentration.
“Stick with the plan. So he’s given her a fucking ring, it doesn’t change the fact that she is yours, she is meant to be with you. YOU! Don’t forget that and she’ll see that soon. You just need to step it up - the time has come that you need to move things along…maybe sooner than you envisaged but you gotta make your move. It’s time. She can’t marry that supercilious bastard!”
His words calm him, and his anxiety begins to dissipate. He was growing tired of watching anyway; it had been fun and made for many a satisfying wank, but the thought of Silver getting the starter, main course and all the trimmings was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, even after stroking his cock to Lucia’s collage of imagery at his house - or her voice - or the many videos of her sleeping.
He licks his lips and stroking his chin, considers his options. Silver had always been a problem. He hated him with a passion and wanted to take anything that was his. At the time that had included Lucia, just to spite Silver, but as time went on, he realised that she meant more to him, she could actually be The One .
The One Adored (The One Trilogy Book 3) Page 10
