Lara looked up. ‘What do you mean?’
He sighed. ‘Caleb and I always spent a lot of time together. Once he met Addison...’ His voice tailed off.
She tilted her head to the side. ‘You got dumped?’
She probably didn’t mean it quite like that but the notion was close enough.
He gave a hollow laugh. ‘It introduced me to the concept of happily-ever-after. I’d never believed in it. I still don’t know if I do and Caleb called me on it. That—and a few other things.’
‘You fell out?’
She got the distinct impression there was much more to this.
‘Not quite.’ He shook his head and stood up, holding out his hand towards her.
She hesitated. After last night did she really want to hold hands with him? But something had changed. His bad-boy edges had chipped off a little. He wasn’t as full of bravado as he’d originally seemed.
She pushed her chair back, slipped her hand into his and headed towards the shore and the coaches that were lined up ready to take them on their tour.
* * *
It was only a short journey along the coast to where the small boats waited to take them across to Château d’If.
As she stepped down from the coach Lara gave a little gasp. ‘It’s even more perfect than I imagined.’
Reuben looked at her in surprise. ‘A prison? Perfect? That’s an unusual description.’
He held out his hand again for hers as she took the last few steps down and walked to board the boat. The white limestone island seemed to rise out of the perfect blue sea with the fortress taking up most of the area. ‘I know it’s supposed to be one mile away but it looks almost close enough to touch,’ she said in wonder.
The boat ride only took ten minutes and the water was much choppier than it had originally looked.
They stepped onto the island to be met by a tour guide who showed them around.
‘The history of this place is amazing,’ Reuben agreed. ‘I can’t believe that one of the prisoners was here for nearly twenty years.’
‘I like how the cells are all so quirky and different,’ Lara said, as she walked up the flight of stairs and peered inside one of them, fingering the sign outside where previous prisoners’ names were inscribed.
‘You do know that the Man in the Iron Mask wasn’t actually imprisoned here?’
She smiled and moved to stand behind some bars. ‘I know that. But I like the legend. It makes the whole place a little more magical.’
They moved outside and stood at edge of the fortress looking back over the Bay of Marseille. Lara leaned against the fortress wall. ‘Look how close Marseille looks. I wonder how many people died trying to reach it and getting caught in the currents.’
He was smiling at her again. ‘You like to capture the whole moment, don’t you?’
She turned back to face him, her hair getting blown around like crazy in the wind. His hand reached up brushed the side of her face. ‘Why else come?’ she said quietly. ‘There isn’t much point if you can’t try and get into the spirit of things.’
His gaze locked with hers. It hadn’t come out quite as she’d meant. She hadn’t been talking about last night. She really hadn’t. But now she couldn’t drag her gaze away from his. The brisk breeze had made all the little hairs on her arms stand on end. He took a step closer to her. ‘So, tell me what you really think.’
Her mouth was instantly dry. His body had blocked out some of the wind sweeping around her, stilled her hair and kind of caught the air between them. For a few seconds she couldn’t hear the squawking birds around them. The voices of the other tourists were lost. It was just him and her.
She licked her lips. She was determined not to let those brown eyes pull her in. She’d let that happen in the casino the night before—and where had that got her? The wind was rippling his shirt against the muscles of his chest. It was hard not to look. Hard not to let her hand automatically reach up and rest itself there.
She lifted her chin towards him. ‘That’s one thing you can count on, Reuben. I’ll always tell you what I really think.’
He sucked in a breath. She could feel it beneath her palm and his fingers curled at the side of her cheek. He didn’t miss a beat. ‘And that’s why I’m here, Lara.’ There was something in the way his Irish accent folded around her name. Held it there for a few seconds. Cherished it even.
The edges of his mouth turned upwards and a glint of gold lightened those dark eyes. It lightened the moment, letting the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding escape from her lips.
His hand dropped and rested behind her waist, exerting the tiniest bit of pressure to turn them both towards the view. She relaxed a little, taking in the sweeping sights of Marseille and the multitude of white yachts in the harbour. It really was another life—another world. A whole other bank balance.