‘It’s nice to include both bits of your heritage, though—the English and the French.’
‘Yes, it is,’ he agreed.
They dressed up for an early dinner in the dining car—Grace was really glad she’d bought a new cocktail dress during her lunch break the previous day—and every course was sumptuous and exquisitely presented, from the lobster to the tournedos Rossini, the platter of French cheeses, and then a cone of coconut sorbet with a delicate slice of fresh pineapple that had been caramelised.
‘This is beyond what I dreamed it would be like on the Orient Express,’ she said to Roland when their coffee arrived. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘Je t’en prie,’ he said.
‘Um—I don’t remember what that means.’
‘You’re welcome,’ he said. ‘And we haven’t reached Paris yet. I hope you’ll like what I’ve planned.’
‘If it’s even one per cent as fabulous as this,’ she said, ‘I’ll love it.’
Roland had arranged for a plush car to meet them at the station and take them to the centre of the city. Grace drank in their surroundings in total silence as they drove through the centre of Paris, not wanting to break the spell; she’d had no idea just how pretty the city was. The wide boulevards, the pretty buildings, the light and airy feel of the place.
The outside of their hotel was beautiful, a five-storey white building with long narrow windows and wrought iron balconies—just what she’d imagined a Parisian hotel to look like. Inside, it was even better: the lobby was all white walls with gilt-framed pictures, red and white marble chequered flooring and wrought iron chandeliers. At the end was a marble staircase with a wrought iron and gilded balustrade. She’d never seen anything so glittering and gorgeous.
When the concierge took them up to their floor, her pulse speeded up. So this was it. Sharing a room with Roland.
As if he’d guessed her sudden nervousness, he said, ‘We have a suite. There are two bedrooms and two bathrooms. I’m not taking anything for granted.’
So he wasn’t expecting her to sleep with him. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
But, even though they hadn’t known each other for very long and they weren’t in a permanent relationship—and weren’t planning to be in one, either—Grace knew that if he asked her to make love with him while they were in Paris, her answer would be yes. How could she resist him in the most romantic city in the world?
Her bedroom was gorgeous, with a pale blue carpet, cream walls, and tall windows that opened onto a balcony with an amazing view of the Eiffel Tower. Her bed was wide, with plenty of deep, fluffy pillows; and the bathroom was all cream marble and gilding. When she came back into the living room between the bedrooms, she noticed that there were comfortable chairs and sofas upholstered in old gold, and there was a vase of fresh flowers on the coffee table.
‘This is amazing, Roland,’ she said.
He smiled. ‘Yes, it’s pretty good.’
Had he stayed here before? Did this bring back memories of his late wife? But she didn’t want to hurt him by asking.
He didn’t seem to notice her awkwardness, because he said, ‘And now we have an evening in Paris.’
An evening in Paris. It sounded incredibly romantic. And he said he’d planned things. ‘What do you have in mind?’ she asked.
‘Come with me,’ he said.
He’d retained the plush car from before. ‘It would take us an hour to walk where I’m taking you, and the Métro journey means a lot of messing about, so that’s why we’re taking a car now,’ he explained. ‘We can walk through the city and explore tomorrow.’
‘OK,’ she said.
They ended up at what he told her was the fifth arrondissement. ‘This is Quai St Bernard,’ he said, ‘and it’s the perfect place for a summer evening.’
There was a mini amphitheatre on the side of the Seine. People were sitting on the side of the river, picnicking or drinking wine and listening to the DJ playing what sounded like tango music; and there was a crowd of people dancing.
‘Tangoing in Paris?’ she asked. ‘Roland—this is fabulous, but I’m afraid I don’t know how to tango. Though I’m very happy to watch the dancing,’ she added swiftly, not wanting him to think she was ungrateful. ‘I can still soak up the atmosphere and enjoy it.’
‘I know you do dance aerobics with Bella, so you can follow a routine,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry that you’ve never danced a tango before. You’ll pick it up. Just follow my lead.’