“Why do you think he asked me to dance?”
“Why do you think he asked you?” Johanna questioned.
“I think Gherring still dislikes Henri, even though he explained himself. He still hasn’t forgiven Henri, and I think he was trying to put Henri in his place. He acts like he owns me. Maybe he thinks he’s taking the place of my father, withholding approval of my boyfriends.”
“Hmmm,” Johanna mused. “I believe you may be mistaken. I saw him dancing with you. He did not look at you like a father would.”
“What do you mean?” Anne felt the blood rushing to her face.
“I simply think he could be jealous, don’t you?”
“Jealous? Of me?” Anne was incredulous. “Believe me, you’re wrong. I know the kind of women Gherring likes, and they’re nothing like me. He likes women like… like Margo Milan. Young, sophisticated, beautiful, society types. Women who’ve traveled the world.”
“Perhaps, but you are just as beautiful as that model.”
“No way! But thank you for boosting my forty-five-year-old ego. I do think I look a lot better than I usually do, thanks to my day at the spa. It took a whole day to look like this. No wonder my five-minute beauty routine isn’t very effective.”
Johanna chuckled with Anne about the hard work associated with beauty. Then she leaned close and whispered, “But what about Henri? Are there sparks?”
Anne thought of the warm security she felt as Henri held her close. “Maybe, I’m not sure yet. I’m just cautious because it’s been fifteen years since I even looked at a man like that.” Unbidden, Anne recalled Gherring’s searing touch as they danced. She felt the heat rise to her face.
“You are blushing. I think there may be sparks after all!”
Henri returned bearing a plate laden with delectable finger foods just as Johanna got up to leave.
“I must go rescue my husband from talking business all night. So glad to have seen you again. I have your email address, so I will keep in touch.” She leaned in to whisper in Anne’s ear. “I have to find out the end of the story.”
When Johanna was gone, Anne realized she was famished. “I don’t think I’ve eaten anything all day!” She gobbled down the hors d’oeuvres quickly.
“Henri, I know it may be none of my business, but will you tell me what Gherring said to you when he talked to you alone. I want to know if y’all talked about me.”
“He wanted to know what my intentions were. And he told me I cannot hurt you.”
“He said that? He actually told you not to hurt me?” She ought to be furious that he was still meddling, right? Why wasn’t she?
“Oui. Non. His words were, ‘If you hurt Anne, I will hurt you!’ I think he was serious.”
“I can’t believe he said that.”
“But he did not say what will happen…” He stopped to gaze into Anne’s eyes. “He did not say what will happen if you hurt me.”
“If I hurt you? Why would I hurt you?”
“Because, as I told you, you have captured my heart. What will you do now? With my heart?”
Anne hesitated. How was she supposed to respond? This was exactly the kind of pressure she’d hoped to avoid.
Henri sighed. “He is watching us now.”
Anne glanced over her shoulder to find Gherring gazing their direction from the edge of the crowd.
“He is watching us to be sure I do not hurt you. I will not hurt you, but you may hurt me. I have decided I will risk letting you hurt my heart, mon ange.” He bent toward Anne and lightly brushed his lips on hers. She jumped, her eyes wide and startled, her cheeks burning.
“I’m sorry Henri. I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time. I mean a really long time. Like fifteen years long time.”
“That is a really long time,” Henri agreed with a grin. “You have forgotten how? Do you still like to kiss?”
Anne chuckled. “I guess the answer is no—I haven’t forgotten how. And yes—I still like to, I think. But I’m pretty rusty and pretty nervous. And I don’t want to practice here in front of a bunch of people.”