I Promise You This (Love in Provence Book 3)

by Patricia Sands

  It did happen to be one of the coldest days on record, Kat told him. “I even put on my thermal underwear this morning. The car is a great idea.” She was grateful for the distraction the day would provide. Her preoccupation with the unknowns of Molly’s condition was consuming her.

  The first stop was a nearby coffee shop. The rest of the morning was spent driving around the most significant downtown neighborhoods.

  “The street scenes look dystopian,” Nick commented. Clouds of vapor spewed from sidewalk grates into the frigid air. Pedestrians bundled in heavy, funereal winter wear rushed along, their faces obscured by scarves and fur-lined hoods pulled down to their brows. “Anonymity assured by the choice of clothing. Do you think they’re heading to or from the Apocalypse?” he wondered.

  “I’ve cycled through this entire city and know it like the back of my hand, but I’ve never stopped to observe it like this, or in weather like this,” Kat told him, shaking her head. “It’s a very different perspective.”

  She recognized immediately what was missing, compared to the South of France: color. “Everything is just so gray, so dreary.”

  They drove slowly through the almost-empty streets of the normally bustling communities of Kensington Market, Little Italy, Chinatown, and Little India.

  “These areas are where we’ll find some zest!” Katherine assured him. The vibrant signage and windows stuffed with flashy displays of everything from food to fabric to intriguing bric-a-brac demanded a casual stroll through their streets.

  “Looks like I’ve got to return in warmer weather,” Nick commented. “I could spend hours on these streets and the choice of restaurants appears endless!”

  They also cruised through the exclusive residential areas of Forest Hill and Rosedale and other well-kept neighborhoods. Nick commented on the intermingling of mixed-income areas and street upon street of well-maintained aging architecture. “For the most part, it looks to me like a city that works.”

  “I must admit it’s a great place to live—when the weather is good, that is. Minus the charm and history that seduces me in France,” Kat said wistfully.

  “You obviously know your way around, Kat. That’s a sign of really appreciating what a community has to offer.”

  “I do love Toronto. It’s safe and clean. There’s great theater and excellent restaurants. I’m glad I grew up here.”

  She continued her running commentary while Nick kept her laughing with his droll observations combined with positive comments about the city in general. He praised the obvious multicultural blend of communities and insisted they get out of the car for a stroll when she took him by Graffiti Alley.

  “Put your hat and mitts on, darlin’! What a fantastic idea this alley is!”

  “I was biking around here the first time I happened upon it,” she said as they walked along the alley. The walls and backs of buildings were covered in colorful and imaginative graffiti art. “It’s awesome, isn’t it?”

  Nick stopped to admire and exclaim several times. “So many street artists are incredibly talented. It’s tremendous recognition for the city to give them places to do their thing. We’ve got some spots like this in Sydney too.”

  The car was waiting for them at the end of the street. “Okay, that was fun,” Katherine agreed, “but the next time you want to get out, you’re on your own. I think we’ve hit a new low in temperatures today!”

  Blowing on his hands and rubbing them together, Nick nodded. “Enough of that.”

  “I’m feeling rather proud of my hometown as I show you around,” Katherine admitted. “But I don’t get the same buzz I do from the ancient architecture, settings, and history from the villages in France. Glass and steel don’t do it for me like the colors of Nice do, for instance.”

  At one point, Nick put his arm around Kat and pulled her to him. “Here’s what I see. You may love your fair city, but you are in love with the South of France. It couldn’t be more obvious.”

  With a faraway look in her eyes, Kat replied, “That’s a good way of putting it. I think you may be right.”

  “We did have some fine times on the Côte d’Azur, gorgeous!” Nick reminisced. His gaze held hers a little longer than was comfortable. Katherine lowered her eyes before turning to look out the window. She couldn’t help smiling.

  “Yes, we did! Especially when Molly and Graham were with us,” she agreed, choosing to be selective about the times she was remembering.

  At 11:00 a.m., Kat received a reassuring text from Roslyn that simply stated: “Things are progressing normally. Next report at one p.m.”

  As noon approached, Nick surprised Kat by scrolling through some information on his phone. “I’m a huge fan of Anthony Bourdain’s food and travel show, and I constantly make notes of where he eats. He raved about the pork sandwiches at Porchetta and Company—with crackle! In Toronto! Be still my heart! Are you game?”

  “Something tells me I might not have a choice!” she said with a laugh. “But you’re in luck because I do like pork. I’ve watched his show many times too. Quite a character. He reminds me of you, come to think of it!” They were soon perched on stools in a cramped space, trading superlatives about their meal.

  Katherine’s phone vibrated, and a repeat message from Roslyn appeared on her screen, with the next report to come at 4:00 p.m.

  As they finished eating, Katherine asked, “What shall we do this afternoon? The CN Tower? We have a new aquarium or we can see what’s on at the Art Gallery, the Royal Ontario Museum, or the new Aga Khan Museum. Your choice.”

  Nick’s eyes lit up. “Niagara Falls! I haven’t seen the Falls!”

  “Um, that’s a little over an hour from here, depending on traffic. I hadn’t thought about leaving the city.”

  As he guided her out to the car, Nick was already making arrangements on his phone. “Take us to the Island Airport, please, Mo,” he instructed as he continued to make calls. “Oh, wait! Kat, let’s swing by your place to get your camera. You won’t want to miss this opportunity to take photos from a helicopter. As I recall, you were seldom without your camera in France.”

  Katherine gasped, startled by the mention of a helicopter. She looked at Nick with such delight, they burst out laughing.

  Katherine reminded Mo of her address. She ran into the house and was back quickly, camera in hand.

  “Thanks, Nick. You’re right! I would have been so frustrated not to have it. It’s not every day a girl gets to take a helicopter to Niagara Falls!”

  At the airport, they waited while the helicopter was sprayed with deicing solution before taking off. Katherine listened while the pilot and Nick had a conversation about the flying conditions. The pilot assured Nick he was absolutely right that the day would be fine for the flight, in spite of the cold temperatures.

  Smiling to herself, Katherine wondered if there was anything about which Nick was not knowledgeable. He always amazed her.

  As they lifted above Lake Ontario, Nick’s eyes focused on the horizon. “Y’know, all the time I spend on my boat has fixated the horizon as something special to me. It’s a soothing delight to my eye and rejuvenates my mind when my head is buzzing with other issues. It’s a great escape. It might be obstructed or completely clear. The sun might be rising or setting. The horizon over water symbolizes freedom and adventure to me . . . there’s such power . . .”

  He nodded his head dreamily for a moment, lost in his thoughts. Katherine watched his expression. In spite of his bon vivant lifestyle, he really is a thoughtful and philosophical guy.

  The aerial views were spectacular as the pilot swooped his machine closer to the ground. From the glass-and-steel forest of downtown’s skyscrapers, across the vast, deep winter blue expanse of Lake Ontario, to the orderly rows of the Niagara Peninsula’s orchards and vineyards against the pristine white backdrop, the vista rapidly changed.

  “The rows of vineyards down there are making me homesick for Provence,” Kat said, taking shot after shot from the unique perspe
ctive. “Although I doubt we would ever see that much snow on them in the Luberon.”

  Circling the waterfalls, the view was breathtaking. The subarctic temperatures had frozen large sections into abstract art forms.

  Massive blocks of bluish-white ice encased cascades of water, as if stricken by a wizard’s wand. Scattered between them, rebellious torrents powered over the drop into the river below. Plumes of mist shot skyward, sometimes briefly enveloping the helicopter.

  “The strength and beauty of nature combined,” Nick murmured, his tone reverent. Katherine watched his total absorption with the scene and was reminded of how he took such pleasure in showing her around the Riviera. He was the ultimate tour guide when it came to details about places.

  During those early days in Antibes, before she and Philippe had had an opportunity to open their hearts to each other, Nick had charmed her at every turn. He had a sexual magnetism about him, along with sharp wit and intelligence, and his movie-star good looks didn’t hurt either.

  A memory of their cruise to Saint-Tropez on his yacht flashed into her mind. That night at La Voile Rouge bordered on hedonistic . . . it was crazy . . . so out of character for me . . . and so much fun.

  She would never forget that it was he who had made her feel more attractive and sensuous than she had in decades. Nick had most definitely lit those fires. In spite of everything, she would always remember that night in Saint-Tropez.

  She gave herself a shake now and put her camera back to work.

  “You’ve got a rare opportunity here,” the pilot told them. “The times this happens are few and far between.”

  Mist and spray from the Falls combined with the cold drifting winds. Nearby ornamental walls, lampposts, trees, and buildings were transformed into whimsical ice sculptures.

  “I’ve never been here in the winter,” she said. “It’s such a different atmosphere from summer, and I honestly can’t decide which season is more pleasing.”

  They put their heads together and took a selfie, catching a glimpse of the waterfalls out the window beside them.

  This is one for my “Gratitude” journal, for sure. A dear friend and a most unique experience!

  The pilot was a wealth of information about the Falls and surrounding area. He enjoyed Nick’s spirited interest and probing questions, while Katherine’s camera kept up a steady rhythm of shutter clicks.

  By the time they disembarked back in Toronto, dusk was falling.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Nick, what can I say? Thank you for that phenomenal experience. Talk about carpe diem—you certainly know how to seize the day!”

  Putting his arm around her shoulder, he chuckled. “Y’know, gorgeous, I prefer to let the day seize me! You’re right, though. That flight over the Falls was ace!”

  Kat noticed she had missed a call from Philippe, but her return call went to his voicemail. She left a short message about the action-filled day she was having and about Roslyn’s recent update. Nick commented that she should tell him his pilot would be contacting Philippe about the flight to Toronto.

  When Katherine put her phone away, Nick pointed over her shoulder. “That’s the CN Tower, right? Let’s go do it!”

  Katherine laughed. “Do you ever run out of energy?”

  “Never when I have such fabulous company, my beautiful companion. Let’s catch the sunset from there! I have to leave in a couple of days,, so I’m running out of time. Are you game?”

  In less than fifteen minutes, they were on their way up the glass-enclosed elevator to the top of the tallest freestanding structure in the Western Hemisphere. “It was the tallest in the world until a few years ago when a couple of even higher towers went up in Asia,” Katherine told him.

  From their perch in the sky, they caught the sunset over the continually burgeoning urban sprawl. He commented on the islands, saying he never really thought of Toronto’s waterfront personality.

  “It’s easy to forget when you live in the heart of the city,” Kat agreed. “There’s been increasing focus on developing lakeside parks, and bicycle and walking paths. In the summer, that part of the city comes alive. Extensive biking paths make Toronto a cyclist’s delight.”

  “And how would you compare it to your biking experience in the South of France?” Nick bantered.

  “Don’t even go there,” Kat shot back. “No contest.” She felt a quick bolt of yearning for France.

  “Oh, look.” Nick read the information on an enormous poster. “Too bad the EdgeWalk doesn’t open until April.”

  “Darn it anyway,” Katherine replied, not hiding her relief about missing that part of the adventure. “Even your irresistible charm could never convince me to hang over that ledge.” Nick threw his head back with laughter.

  As they waited at the appointed pickup spot for Mo, back on the ground and watching the rush-hour traffic crawl by, Nick casually took Kat’s hand and said, “At the risk of sounding food-obsessed, I would say it’s time to think about a cocktail or two while we decide where to have dinner. Since I chose lunch today, it’s your call this evening, Kat.”

  Sensing her hesitation, Nick added, “Would your rather go home and change? Or would you rather not go out at all? I’ve held you hostage today.”

  Kat laughed and acknowledged inwardly she really didn’t want the day to end. “It’s been an incredible day, Nick! Truly! I would love to have dinner with you. Why don’t we compromise and go as we are so we can make it another early night. Feel like seafood?”

  “Too right! Good plan!”

  “Since we’re in this end of the city, let me show you the Distillery District. It’s a dynamic new area in the restored, red-brick Victorian-era buildings of the historical Gooderham and Worts whiskey distillery. This restaurant was one of my favorites. I hope it is still as good.”

  As they drove over, Kat gave the update from Roslyn’s last message. “She said Molly is stable and the process is continuing . . . and they are removing the feeding tube tomorrow.”

  “Beauty! We’ll toast to that!”

  And so they did, with a perfectly chilled sauvignon blanc, before they shared an enormous seafood platter. Laughing, they simultaneously declared, “What a feast!” when it was placed before them on the table.

  They lingered over the generous servings of mussels, scallops, shrimp, crab, and lobster before their cappuccino and espresso were served. There was no shortage of conversation, as Nick asked Kat about her adjustment to life in France and told her about his most recent adventures.

  “The last time you and I shared a meal like this, we were in Saint-Tropez,” Nick reminded Kat, his voice suddenly quiet and serious. She felt her face flush as the memory of that weekend returned. She looked away awkwardly.

  Nick took her hand. His touch was gentle but his gaze was strong and deep into her eyes. “Kat, please don’t take this the wrong way. You know how much I like Philippe. He’s a great bloke. And I know the two of you have something special going. But I need to say this . . .”

  He paused, his eyes filling with such emotion that Katherine felt almost fearful. “Ever since that night on the boat in Saint-Tropez . . . bloody pissed as I was . . . and I’m so sorry about that . . . I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

  Katherine felt her face burn with embarrassment, even as Nick made her laugh. With his inimitable humor, he reminded her of their dinner and all that followed at La Voile Rouge. “You said you had never seen so much champagne. We danced up a storm, didn’t we—put those youngsters to shame!”

  Kat’s cheeks raged brighter, remembering her musings earlier that day. She recalled that night through a bit of a fog, but at the same time in vivid detail. It had been another turning point for her. Never had she dreamed of feeling so alive and sensual, at her age, as Nick had made her feel that night. He had made love to her like no one ever before. And then passed out.

  With a wide grin, Nick went on, “Every time I hear ‘You Sexy Thing,’ I see the two of us boogying like
there was no tomorrow. They wouldn’t stop playing it, remember? I’ll never forget it.”

  Then he sang, in a wacky falsetto with the most devilish look on his face. “I believe in miracles . . . where you from . . . you sexy thang . . .”

  Kat laughed in spite of herself.

  “Did you hear that the town shut down the club?” he told her. “Too many noise violations—we got there just in time!”

  His amusement ebbed, and his change of tone now left no question of the depth of his feelings. Kat could not believe her ears.

  “I’m in love with you, Kat. I need you to know this.”

  Flustered, Kat looked down and fidgeted with her napkin before she began to stutter a response. “Nick . . . I . . .”

  Nick held up a hand to still her. “Wait, let me finish.” His voice was warm, thick with feelings. “I think you’re a fantastic woman and if there is any chance for me to win your heart, I want to do that. You’ve no idea how much I thought about you last year when I was waiting out that ridiculous Interpol issue. I looked at pictures of us in Saint-Trop . . . and other days we had on the boat . . . over and over again.”

  He cupped her hand tenderly between his as his eyes searched hers.

  Katherine wasn’t certain how to sort out the hurricane of emotions swirling through her mind. Disbelief was definitely high up there. She felt immensely complimented too.

  She had been aware earlier in the meal that the last time she had eaten at the Oyster House had been with James, her ex-husband. That had caused some turmoil in her mind, but Nick made her laugh so often that she soon rid herself of that discomfort. Now she was feeling shocked and embarrassed—and special.

  Was this really happening? This handsome, smart, articulate man who also happened to be sexy and fun and who would provide a lifestyle most people could only dream about—this man was gazing into her eyes and professing his love for her. She had not seen that coming.

  “Nick . . .” she tried to begin again, but he interrupted once more.

  “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot. Don’t answer me now. Just think about what I’m saying.” His eyes never left hers.