Their faces were bright with the cold, as they walked back toward the hotel, and then on a spur-of-the-moment impulse, he hired a horse-drawn hansom cab to drive them through the park in the winter wonderland all around them. They sat in the cab, with a heavy blanket over their laps, snuggled next to each other like happy children. And afterward, they went to lunch at the Pierre. It was mid-afternoon by then, and they wandered through assorted stores on the way back, and finally got back to her suite, looking happy and relaxed. They hadn’t stopped talking all afternoon, and had held hands throughout like high school lovers. Timmie felt fifteen years old again, and Jean-Charles said he felt twenty. And for her, it was a far happier fifteen than she had ever known or dreamed of. For this infinitely precious moment in time, life was perfect, with him.
“Where would you like to go to dinner, my darling?” he asked her, as they relaxed in the living room of her suite. He suggested Café Boulud or La Grenouille, which were the only restaurants he knew well in New York. She knew a variety of more fashionable options in SoHo and the West Village. In the end, they decided on a tiny restaurant she knew, which was warm and cozy. They had days to decide where else to go, to show off, to indulge themselves, and to discover each other.
He left her so she could dress, and went back to his own room to shower and change. She beamed at him when she opened the door to him again an hour later. He looked impeccable and elegant as always, and he was struck yet again by how beautiful she was, with her big green eyes, long red hair, and lithe youthful body. She was glowing. He kissed her the moment he saw her, and followed her slowly into the suite, with his arms tight around her. She was dizzy when they stopped, and her voice was soft with dusky passion. Suddenly, their dinner plans seemed of no interest whatsoever, to either of them, as he stood there kissing and holding her, unable to resist her.
“I’m sorry … I can’t stop …,” he said hoarsely, as she smiled shyly at him. She didn’t want to stop either, and without saying a word to him, she kissed him again, and slowly took off his jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt. It was a not-so-subtle message, and he pulled away to look at her with a question in his eyes. He didn’t want to do anything she would regret later, and he knew how strongly she felt about his intermediate situation, on the way out of his marriage. “Timmie, what are you doing?” he asked gently.
“I love you,” she said softly.
“I love you too,” he whispered to her, and then said it in French, which felt so much more natural to him, and more real than anything he could say to her in English. “Je t’aime … tellement … so much …” She could see in his eyes that he meant it. It seemed stupid now to follow rules and plans that had made sense in the beginning, and made no sense now in the face of how deeply they were falling in love with each other. The boundaries were rapidly dissolving between them. “I don’t want you to do anything that you will be sorry about later. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Will you hurt me, Jean-Charles?” she asked, looking at him sadly. She was asking if he would betray her, if he would never leave his wife, or abandon her one day. Promises that were as fragile as butterfly wings, and could not always be protected. They both knew there were no guarantees in the world, only hopes and dreams and good intentions. They were both people of honesty, integrity, and goodwill. Perhaps it was all one could hope for.
“I hope never,” he said honestly, and she could see that he meant it as she nodded. “And you?”
“I love you … I will never betray you, and hope I never hurt you.” They were the only vows they could exchange at this point in their lives, the promise to do the best they could to stand side by side and protect each other. It was enough for Timmie, and for now it was enough for Jean-Charles as well. No one could see into the future and predict the challenges or pain that would come later. The only question was if they were willing to risk the uncertainty of life, to weather whatever storms came, together.
She said not a word to him then, and walked him slowly into her bedroom, where she unbuttoned his shirt, undid his belt buckle, and gently slid off his trousers, as he undressed her, and within moments, their clothes lay in a heap on the floor, tangled together, and they slid under the sheets together, her long smooth ivory body entwined in his powerful male one. The room was dark, and she could feel the force of his passion for her throbbing next to her, as she ached for him to be inside her.
“Timmie, je t’aime …,” he moaned softly, as she almost purred with desire for him, and told him she loved him too. And then suddenly their passion overwhelmed them, irresistible, beyond measure or reason, a tidal wave of desire that swept them both away with such overwhelming force that neither of them could have stopped it, nor wanted to. Timmie gave herself to him completely, her hopes, her dreams, her heart, her body, and he took her with him on a journey of such love and passion that they both knew without question that wherever it led them, they had no choice now but to be together. They both sensed as they lay in each other’s arms that it was destined.
And later, as they lay clinging to each other peacefully, two bodies seeming one, they dozed peacefully, and their dinner plans were forgotten. What had happened was so much better. They had crossed the bridge from uncertainty into a sure love for each other. The tides of passion had brought them there, and what they found now in each other’s arms was a love that had irreversibly bound them together. With luck, and the blessing of the gods, hopefully forever.
Chapter 14
The days Timmie and Jean-Charles shared in New York were magic. They took long walks in the park, went to art galleries, and stopped in funny little restaurants for coffee, or pizza when they were starving. They walked all over SoHo, enjoying its charms and delights, and between times and all night long, they fell into each other’s arms with insatiable passion. Timmie had never made love so often in her life, and Jean-Charles rediscovered youthful powers he had long since thought were forgotten. They made love for hours. They were both in odd time zones from their travels, dozed and slept, woke to make love, took naps in the afternoon once they were sated, and called room service for enormous breakfasts at four in the morning. One night they left the hotel on foot as it began snowing again, and found a truck stop on the West Side, where they ate steak and hash browns at five in the morning.
There was an incredible surreality to it, a sense that they were dreaming. And yet again and again, as they woke up and saw each other, they smiled broadly, and then laughed with the sheer joy of the miracle they were sharing. On Sunday, as Timmie packed her bags, she looked bereft, as he lay in bed and watched her.
“I don’t want to leave you,” she said sadly. After living with him for only four days, she could no longer imagine a life without him. This was dangerous, heady stuff, and they were both becoming rapidly addicted to it. He was just as besotted as she was, and just as sad to leave her.
“Nor I,” he said, looking somber. “I don’t want to go back to Paris.” But they both had lives they had to return to. “I will come to California to see you.”
“Do you promise?” She felt like a frightened child as she said it. What if she never saw him again? If he changed his mind, or abandoned her, how would she survive it? She had lost so many people she had loved before that she could no longer bear the thought of that happening to her again. And he understood what he was seeing. Her panic mirrored his own, just as their love for each other was an identical reflection of what each felt for the other. They were perfectly matched in their passion, feelings, and terror.
“I don’t want to lose you either,” he said gently, coming to put his arms around her, as he pulled her slowly back to their bed. “And of course I will come to California. I will not be able to live for long without you.” He had a dramatic bent to him, which she was discovering was the flip side of his immense love for her, and she liked it.
And then she turned to him with an unexpected question, as she lay in his arms. “When are you moving out of your apartment?”
&
nbsp; He looked upset when she asked him. He hated to think of that now. This was the only life he wanted. His past life no longer existed. It had been dead for years, and the ashes of it had gently dispersed as his bond to Timmie grew stronger. She was not taking him away from anyone, she was welcoming him into her arms, soul, and life, just as she had into her body, with overwhelming love and gentle passion.
“I told you before. In June. I told my children I would stay until the end of the school year. I hope we will sell the apartment by then. But if not, I will move out over the summer.” It seemed a long time to Timmie, but she had only just arrived in his life, and didn’t feel right pressing him about it. She wanted to be fair … but if he didn’t move … if Jade was right, or he prolonged it for years … what then? “Please don’t look so worried,” he said, pulling her tightly into his arms to reassure her.
“I am,” she said honestly, “it scares me.” She had held nothing back from him, no part of herself. She had left herself wide open to be wounded, if for some reason he chose not to join her on the journey of a lifetime. What frightened her, as it always did, was the prospect of being abandoned on the shore, terrified and alone. “What if you never leave her?” She looked panicked.
“We left each other years ago,” he said simply and honestly. It was, in his view, a correct assessment of the situation. “I am there for my daughters, not for her. It is a promise I made them,” he said solemnly. “I owe that to my children.” And what would he owe her? She knew she could not compete with the love he had for his children, nor did she want to. She didn’t want to tear him apart, or pull him away. She wanted him to willingly come with her.
“What if your daughters beg you not to leave in June? What if …” The agonies of the unknown always plagued her. The past had always been so much worse than she expected, and never better. It was always hard for her to believe that the future would be different.
“Then we’ll deal with it then,” he said calmly, which did not entirely reassure her. He was not saying that he would leave no matter what. He was leaving the door open, to see what came later. She would have much preferred a firm promise, a vow sworn in blood, but she knew that now she had to trust him. She had cast her lot with his, for better or worse, whatever happened. “I love you. I am not going to hurt you or abandon you.” He knew her history, he had seen her raw terror the night of her appendectomy. He was mindful of her fears, and willing to reassure her. “I love you. I need you now, just as you do me. I am not going to walk away from you, Timmie. I promise.”
She sighed at the comfort of his words, as she lay with her back against his chest. He was pressed tightly against her with his arms around her, and she felt safe and protected. “I hope not.” She turned to kiss him, and although the time was growing short, they made love for a last time, and then afterward sat in the bathtub together as they had many times that weekend, talking and laughing and teasing, and enjoying their last moments together.
When the time came, it was nearly impossible for Timmie to tear herself from their room. She wanted to stay there, lock the door, and cling to him forever. She didn’t want to leave him, or fly thousands of miles from him, while he flew just as far in the opposite direction. He saw all the agony of what she felt in her eyes as he held her.
“We will be together again soon. I promise.” She loved the way he reassured her, and everything about him made her believe him. She had never thought herself capable of trusting anyone again, and yet she trusted him now. Completely. She just prayed she was right to do so. But in any case, she had no choice. For better or worse, she was his now. And with the grace of God, he was hers.
They rode to the airport in her limousine, and he took her to the terminal for her flight. Hers was leaving first, and he had to leave her at the security checkpoint. They were barely able to leave each other, and she looked devastated as she stood at the other side of the security lines, waving at him as he watched her. He felt as though he were watching a small child he loved being taken away. All he wanted was to cross the lines and take her in his arms again to reassure her. And as soon as she vanished from sight, he felt bereft himself.
He called her on her cell phone as she walked to the gate.
“I miss you too much,” he said miserably. “Perhaps we must run away together.”
“Okay,” she said, smiling. She was so happy to hear him. “When do you want to go?”
“Now.” He was smiling too, as he got out of the car at the international terminal, to catch his flight to Paris.
“Thank you for the most wonderful weekend of my life,” she said softly.
“You made my dreams come true,” he said gently, as moved as she was. And then he laughed. “And you have certainly reinspired my lost youth.” They hadn’t stopped making love day and night, and both had claimed they had never before experienced anything like it. They were a red-hot dazzling combination. Like fire on dynamite. Each time they touched it was an explosion. “I’ll call you as soon as I arrive,” he promised. She knew he would. Jean-Charles was a man who kept his promises, which she loved about him. She hated to think of him going home to the apartment he still shared with his wife, but even that worried her less now than it had at the beginning. He just needed time to work it out, and live up to the agreement he had made with his children. She believed him. And a passion like theirs couldn’t be resisted. She had a feeling now that it would all work out in the end.
She boarded the plane and took her seat in first class. Thinking of him, and the wonders they had shared for four days, she closed her eyes, and slept all the way back to L.A.
When she got home, she couldn’t stay awake long enough to call him. She had to stay up till midnight, in order to call him in his office in the morning. She was sound asleep long before that, and then awake at five A.M. It was sad waking up without him, and the days in New York already seemed like a distant dream. It was two o’clock in the afternoon for him when she called him at five A.M. in L.A. He was just coming back from lunch, and was delighted when he heard Timmie’s sleepy voice in his ear.
“I miss you,” she said sadly, and he smiled the moment she said it.
“So do I. I was awake all night looking for you. I want to come and see you soon. I feel like an addict without his drug.” He sounded as miserable as she was.
“Me too,” she said happily. She loved knowing that he missed her, and hadn’t simply returned to his normal life, without a backward glance, after spending four days with her. For her, their days in New York had changed her life, hopefully forever, and it felt wonderful to know that he was experiencing exactly the same thing.
“I will come to California soon,” he promised, and then had to see patients. He promised to call her at the end of his workday, which would be late in the morning for her. She thought of going back to sleep after talking to him, but couldn’t. She tossed and turned, thinking about him, and the nights they’d shared, and then she lay on her back and smiled, remembering everything he’d said to her then, and on the phone. She finally got up and got dressed at six, and was in her office at seven-thirty. She often went in early when she had jet lag or couldn’t sleep. It was a wonderful time of day to get things done. New York and Europe were already up and at full speed.
She had already done a stack of work when Jade came in at eight-thirty. She was happy to see Timmie again, not particularly surprised to see her at work, and asked her how her weekend in New York had been.
“Fantastic!” Timmie said instantly, with a broad grin. She gave herself away with the dreamy look in her eye, and the abundance of happiness that was seeping through her pores. Jade narrowed her eyes and frowned at her. She knew Timmie too well to think that she could look like that after a weekend of museums and shopping on her own. Timmie rapidly looked away, shuffling through papers on her desk, but Jade had already guessed what must have happened in New York, and more than likely whom she had been with.
“I smell a rat,” she said suspiciously, as Timmie c
huckled.
“I hope not,” Timmie said, trying to look innocent with little success. “Maybe it’s our new perfume.”
“Don’t give me that,” Jade said, resting on twelve years of hard work and friendship. She often allowed herself to say things to Timmie that others wouldn’t have. And Timmie was always a good sport about it. Today was no different. “You spent the weekend with the French doctor, didn’t you?” she accused her with a knowing look, and Timmie nodded. She was excited about what was happening, and proud to be his woman. They had to be discreet for a while, but here at least she could let her joy and excitement show.
“As a matter of fact, I did,” Timmie said, looking like the cat that had swallowed the canary. In truth, she looked more like the lioness that had devoured a bald eagle. Happiness radiated from her so powerfully that she could have lit up the entire room.
“I hope you didn’t sleep with him,” Jade said sternly. “You said you wouldn’t do that until he moves out of his family’s apartment in June.”
“Absolutely,” Timmie lied through her teeth, and looked at her assistant with a thoroughly innocent grin. She knew exactly what she had said, but suddenly everything was different. She was madly in love with him, and there was no way she could have resisted him for all four days, given what they both felt. She was happy they had done exactly what they did. She had never in her entire life spent such a passionate weekend, and whatever dire fate Jade was predicting for her, at Jean-Charles’s hands, it was impossible to believe now that he wouldn’t do exactly what he had said he would in June. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in Timmie’s mind that he would move out. What had happened to Jade was sad, but very different. Timmie was no longer worried about him, and she didn’t want to have to defend him or their passionate affair to Jade or anyone else.
First Sight Page 25
