He didn’t know whether she meant the knife, or the touch. Perhaps both.
‘Your fiancée has pluck.’ The Frenchman spoke the words quietly as he sat back to watch Melanie take control of his kitchen. ‘I shall eagerly observe this.’
A half-hour later, Mel drew a deep breath and carried the chicken salad to the table. The meal looked good on the plate, colourful and versatile, full of different textures with the thin slices of truffle heated through and releasing their gorgeous aroma. The wine reduction made a beautiful sauce. The thick slice of bread coated with beaten egg yolk, the lightest combination of chopped herbs and grated sharp cheese and lightly toasted made a perfect accompaniment.
Even so, the proof would be in the taste, not only the visual appeal. Mel placed the dish before her host and brought the other two servings for Rik and herself.
Minutes later, Carel put down fork and knife and lifted his gaze. He spoke first to Rik. ‘The truffles are better than anything I have ever tasted. Cooked in the right way, and served with a little royal legendary on the side, these will be highly sought after at my restaurants this season. I am happy to place my order with you.’
‘Thank you.’ Rik dipped his head and cast a smile in Mel’s direction. ‘And thanks to you, Melanie, for this meal. You are a wonder in the kitchen. I did not realise just how skilled you are.’
‘I would have you in any of my kitchens, Melanie.’ Carel’s statement followed Rik’s.
And while Mel basked in Rik’s surprise and the fact that he’d obviously enjoyed the meal, she had to be
judicious about it. ‘I have to confess that I watched the truffles being prepared at the palace today and learned all I could from the process.’
She turned to smile at the Frenchman. ‘Thank you for your compliment.’
‘In truth it is a job offer.’ The man’s gaze shifted between Mel and Rik. ‘Any of my restaurants, any time. Permanent work, good wages and conditions. You would be more than welcome. Not that I suggest you would be available…’
Mel was more “available” than the man realised. She said something that she hoped was appropriately appreciative but non-committal. Carel didn’t know that she and Rik wouldn’t remain together as a couple, so she couldn’t exactly have asked the man to hold that thought for a few months.
Plus there’d be work permits and all sorts of things, and when this was all over Mel would need to be back in Australia. She tried valiantly not to let those thoughts spread a pall over Carel’s acceptance. Conversation moved on then. Mel sat back and let Rik lead those topics with their host. And she tried to gather her calm, and not think too much about the future. Not tonight. Not here in Paris. Not while she felt…vulnerable in this way.
‘I hope you will excuse us if we leave you now,’ Rik said twenty minutes later.
They had shared a second glass of wine with Carel but it was getting late. ‘It is time for us to return to our hotel.’ He thanked the man again for his business, and then he and Melanie were outside.
‘I would like to stroll the streets before we go back to our hotel.’ He turned to examine her face. ‘Are you up to a walk?’
‘That would be…I would like that.’ Her response was guarded. She hoped he couldn’t hear that within her words. Beneath it there was too much delight, and that made her feel vulnerable. ‘I’d like to see a little more of P-Paris by night.’
‘Then I will get our driver to drop us a few blocks away from our hotel.’ Rik did this, and they made their car trip in silence before they got out to walk the rest of the way.
The hotel Dominico had booked for Rik was in a beautiful part of the city. At first Melanie felt a little stilted with Rik, but he linked his arm with hers and told her the history of the area, pointing out buildings. And using the night and this moment to enjoy her closeness?
Dream on, Melanie Watson!
‘I never thought I would see places like Paris, and Braston.’ Melanie turned her face to look into his. ‘It’s very beautiful on your side of the world.’
‘It is…’ His gaze seemed to linger on her eyes, her mouth, before he turned his glance back to the buildings around them. ‘We have some time in the morning. Is there something you’d like to do?’
‘I would love to see some markets.’ Mel tried to keep her enthusiasm at a reasonable level. She did. But the chance to explore Paris, even a small portion of it. How could she not be excited? ‘A peek at some local colour?’
‘Then we shall find markets tomorrow,’ Rik said and tucked her more closely against his side. For a moment he felt, not resistance, but perhaps her effort to maintain what she considered to be an appropriate mental and emotional distance?
He should resist, too, but tonight…he did not want to. And so he walked calmly until he felt her relax against his side, and then he took the pleasure of these moments with her in peace, away from expectations and work commitments and other things that went with being…who he was.
‘I am enjoying being anonymous with you right now, Melanie.’ His voice deepened on the words, on the confession. He couldn’t hold the words back.
‘Sometimes I forget that you’re a prince.’ She almost whispered the words in response, as though they were a guilty secret. ‘You make extraordinary things seem everyday and normal. Then I forget who you are and just—’ She broke off.
Treated him as a man?
Dangerous territory, Rik. The next step is to believe she likes you purely because of you and not your title, and then there would be a woman seeing the man first.
If Rik allowed himself to form any kind of attachment to that woman it could be difficult to let her go when the time came.
He had to do that, and he had no proof that she liked him in any way particularly. Other than kisses, and could he really say those kisses meant all of these things?
You don’t have the faith to look for anything else. You’ve allowed your upbringing to taint your outlook, to stunt what you will reach out for.
In an attempt to refocus his thoughts, he turned his attention back to their visit to Carel. ‘You said you’d been a cook, but I did not know you had such skills as you displayed tonight. You won Carel over to placing that order.’
Rik’s compliments warmed Mel. ‘I enjoyed cooking with the truffles tonight, and I’m so relieved that Carel liked the dish. I took a risk. I wondered if you might have felt I stepped out of line.’
Mel searched his face. ‘I—I could just as easily have lost you that deal!’
‘I do not think so.’ Rik gave a slight shake of his head. ‘He was too enamoured of you from the first moment. The job offer he made…’
‘Was flattering but it’s out of the question, isn’t it?’ She didn’t make a question out of it. Well, it wasn’t one! ‘I’ve signed on to help you, not to try to set myself up to cook in a Paris restaurant the day after our m-marriage ends.’ Mel crossed her fingers and prayed that Rik hadn’t heard that slight stumble when she’d referred to that last bit.
‘You are very faithful, Nicole Melanie Watson.’ Rik shifted his arm and instead caught her hand in his.
His fingers were strong and warm and familiar, and Mel couldn’t stop from curling hers around them.
Rik’s eyes softened as he smiled at her. ‘That is rare and I admire you for it very much.’
They continued their walk in silence, just strolling side by side as though they had all the time in the world. As though they didn’t have a care in the world.
But underneath, tensions simmered. If everything were so comfortable and unthreatening, why did Mel’s heart beat faster with each step they took? Why did a sense of hope and anticipation mix with her awareness of Rik and make her want their walk never to end, and yet at the same time make her want to return to the hotel because she hoped against hope…
That he would kiss
her goodnight again? That this night would never end? That it would end for her in his arms? All such foolish thoughts!
‘Here we are.’ Perhaps he felt it, too, because he swept her into the hotel without another word.
And it seemed as though time warped then because they were at the door of their suite before she could draw a breath, and yet she remembered the endless silent moments in the lift, just the two of them, wishing she could reach out to him, wishing she had the right…
Face it, Mel. You’re starting to care for him. To care for Prince Rikardo Ettonbierre of Braston. Caring as though you might be…
Caring for a man who was a good man, but also a prince, and that meant he was not any man for her because she was an everyday girl.
Mel didn’t know what she was thinking, what she hoped for!
Except for a kiss from…a prince?
No. A kiss from Rikardo. That was what she wanted and needed. He was a prince, but he could have been the boy next door and she would have wanted that kiss just as much.
You are in trouble, Mel. Big, big trouble because you can’t fall for him!
The scent of brewed coffee met them as they entered the suite. A glass bowl with fruits, a bottle of wine and chocolates sat on the low coffee table near the sofa and chairs, and, in the small kitchenette, a basket held fresh baked croissants. The lights were turned down. The suite looked ready to welcome lovers.
Mel’s breath caught in the back of her throat. They weren’t, of course. There were two bedrooms. It wasn’t as though she and Rik—
‘The coffee smells good. Just the ticket after that walk in the night air.’ Mel stripped off her coat and followed her nose to the kitchenette. She felt she did really well at acting completely normal and unconcerned.
Except she should have dodged the idea of coffee altogether, said goodnight and headed straight for her room rather than prolonging this. What if Rik thought she’d done that so they could take advantage of this romantic scene? What if he thought she was angling for more of his company for that reason?
‘You don’t need to have any, of course,’ she blurted, and then added, because that could have been taken as rather ungracious, ‘but I’ll pour you a cup if you like, and if you’re hungry I can get you a croissant.’
‘Coffee would be welcome.’ He briefly glanced at the food items and away again. ‘I do not think I will spoil the memory of that meal just now.’
Mel found two cups. She got them out of the cupboard and filled them with steaming liquid, and was proud that her fingers didn’t tremble.
There was an enclosed balcony, beautifully warm and secluded with stunning views. They took their drinks out there and stood side by side soaking in the ambiance of the city lights.
They weren’t touching and yet Mel felt so close to him, so aware of him. How was she supposed to walk away at the end of this arrangement without…looking back and wishing?
If wishes were horses then beggars would ride. Wasn’t that the saying? She wasn’t a beggar, but she was also not the princess who lived around the corner from the prince. She and Rik weren’t on an even playing field; they never would be. Mel needed to remember that. She had to remember who he was, and who she was.
‘I am pleased with this evening’s efforts.’ Rik set his empty coffee cup down on the ledge, took hers and placed it beside it. ‘I’ve regained four key markets. There are others to chase but those are smaller and can be done out of Braston over the next couple of weeks.’
‘You’ve taken a big step towards getting the people back on their financial feet.’ There was pride in her voice that she couldn’t hide. In the soft night light Mel looked into his face and knew that her happiness for him must show. ‘You’ve earned the right to feel some peace.’
‘You have played a part in my peace.’ He spoke softly, with a hint of discovery and perhaps acceptance in his voice. ‘And I should keep my distance from you. I know it, but I do not want to do it.’
Her breath quivered in her throat. ‘What is it that you want to do?’
‘This.’ Rik leaned in and claimed her lips with his.
* * *
‘Melanie.’ Rik breathed her name into her hair. Her face was pressed against his chest. He had kissed her until they were both breathless with it. He wanted to kiss her again, and with his fingertips he gently raised her chin.
Her eyes glowed, filled with softness and passion for him. She’d told him there were times when she had thought of him as a man, not a prince. Rik wanted that acceptance from her now, for her to see him as Rikardo, regardless of what else there might be in his life. For once he simply wanted to be a man to a woman.
He drew her soft curves more securely into his arms and breathed the scent from the side of her neck and let his mouth cover hers once again. Tongues caressed and a low moan sounded. His, and a warning bell began to register in the back of his mind not to do this because there was naivety in the way she yielded to him, as though she was new to this, as though perhaps she wasn’t particularly experienced…
‘What are we doing?’ Melanie spoke in a low tone. She drew back. Shields rose in her eyes, concealing her reaction to him, protecting her. ‘This—this isn’t the same as before when there was a reason to kiss me. It doesn’t matter about Paris, about the romance of being here. I shouldn’t have let myself be tempted. I shouldn’t have looked for that—’
Her words were disjointed. Discomfort filled her face, and Rik…wished it didn’t have to be that way, but hadn’t he set them up for exactly this? He’d made his choices. ‘I should not have stepped over this line, either. It was not a smart thing to do.’
He wrestled with his own reactions. He’d wanted to take, conquer, claim—to stamp his ownership on her and possess her until she was his and his alone. That urge had bypassed all his usual roadblocks.
‘I have never—’ He stopped himself from completing the sentence. Instead he tried to turn his attention to tomorrow. ‘You must go to bed now, get some sleep ready for our visit to the markets.’
Her eyes still held the glaze of the moments of passion they had shared, but they also held confusion, uncertainty, and unease. She searched his face and Rik saw each emotion register as she found her way back to here and now and…to who they were and to remembrance of the arrangement they shared. He should have never forgotten that arrangement, yet when he was near her he couldn’t seem to remember even the most basic of principles, of sticking to his word and to their goals.
‘Thank you for showing me a little of Paris this evening, and for allowing me to take part in your talks with the restaurateurs.’ Her chin tipped up. ‘Goodnight, Rikardo. I hope you sleep well.’
CHAPTER TEN
‘THANK you for finding these markets for me to see.’ Mel let her gaze shift from one market stall to the next as she and Rik walked through them. Somehow that felt much easier than looking the prince in the eyes.
They’d kissed last night and she’d withdrawn. Did he know how far she had stepped over the line within herself by entering into that kiss? Mel was too close to falling dangerously for…a prince. She couldn’t do that. She had to be businesslike about her relationship with Rik, even if their surroundings or circumstances felt very romantic or extraordinary.
No matter what, Mel. You have to keep your distance inside yourself no matter what. So treat this outing as an outing. Nothing more and nothing less.
She drew a breath and forced her gaze to his. ‘Thank you for making time for us to come here.’
‘You are welcome, Melanie.’ His tone, too, sounded more formal than usual.
And were his shoulders held a little more rigidly?
Mel tried very hard after that, to focus only on the moment. The markets were a treasure trove of local clothing, some new, brand name and quite expensive but with equally much vintage and pre-
loved. It was the latter that appealed to Mel.
‘You are sure you don’t want to look at the branded items?’ When they arrived here Rik had pressed what felt like a very large bundle of currency into Mel’s hands, and instructed her that she was not to leave empty-handed.
That, too, had felt awkward. Ironically, not because he had wanted to give her this gift but because they had both let their fingers linger just a little too long, and then quickly withdrawn.
Mel’s thoughts started to whirl as they had last night in the long hours of courting sleep that wouldn’t come. A part of her wanted to find a way to get him to care for her truly. That was the problem.
He didn’t, and he wouldn’t. Not today, not tomorrow or next week or next month or in any number of months. At the end of their time together he would send her away from him fully. How much more did she need to think about it before she accepted that fact? Accepted that a few kisses in the heat of the moment in a beautiful city didn’t mean all that much to a man who could kiss just about anyone, anywhere and any time?
Mel drew a slow breath. She forced air into her lungs, forced calm into her inner turmoil. And she cast her glance once more about the market and kept looking until the blur of colours turned once again into garments piled on tables, and she spotted a pretty skirt and moved closer to look…
‘I’d like to buy this one.’ It wouldn’t break the bank. In fact, it was ridiculously cheap. But it was exactly what Mel would wear, a long, beautifully warm tan suede that fell in an A-line cut. A memento of Paris. That thought, too, was bittersweet. ‘It should fit me, but even if it doesn’t I can take it in.’
She held out the rest of the money. ‘Thank you for giving me this gift. I’d like to browse a little longer and then I’ll be ready to go.’ She hoped her words were convincing and didn’t sound as strained as she felt.
‘You must keep that to spend any time you wish.’ Rik pressed the money back into her hands, and waited for her to tuck it away in her purse.
* * *
As the days passed after Paris, Melanie showed her strength by being the perfect fiancée to Rik. No one, not his brothers and not his father, could have said that she wasn’t fully supportive of him, utterly committed to him.
The Princess Bride Page 27
