Her smile turned to a beaming grin. “It is! Well, well, this is a first. Perhaps the ice prince of Furze-Sur-Mer is melting.”
I scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s good for Sophie, that’s all.”
I turned away from my friend, heading back to the kitchen. I found the chef stooped over the sink, peeling potatoes. He sent me an odd look, like I was the last person he expected to see. I only hoped he wouldn’t start singing. After my call with Valerie, I didn’t think my nervous system could take the onslaught.
But with Chloe taking up permanent residence in my head, I needed a circuit breaker. Some kind of reset. My chest had felt too full, my skin too tight. I had to let something go.
I’d do the only thing that ever worked. I’d take the bike out and tear down the coast between Furze and Nice. Maybe if I pushed hard enough, the speed would rattle her loose.
I sighed, rubbing my temples. I didn’t know how she’d done it, but Chloe’s spirit—her optimism and unapologetic nature, had slowly woven around Sophie, around the club, and as much as I hated to admit it, around me.
I only hoped I’d remember how to apply the brakes.
15
CHLOE
Istepped out of my annex into the now familiar glare of the Mediterranean sun. As usual, my fluffy little sidekick was hot on my heels. Bean must’ve had an exciting night at the beach. He’d jumped through the window at dawn, then spent most of the morning horizontal on my bed.
I stared up at the wheeling gulls. Had Maxime been at the beach too? At the club? Whatever time he’d come home, he hadn’t slipped through my window to cuddle up. Despite the heat, a shiver ran through my body. Just the thought of my boss spooning me made my skin tingle.
When he left the kitchen to put Sophie to bed last night, I’d cleaned up, removing any evidence of our “disco beauty salon” party. Had I waited a little longer than necessary in the hope he’d return and hang out for a while? Yes, I had.
I’d never seen him smile so hard before. When I painted his face, I felt sure something passed between us—brief, but real. I swear at one point, he’d turned his cheek into my hand as I tidied up his mask. I didn’t know what it meant, but when he didn’t show after putting Sophie to bed, I called it a night. Iheaded back to the annex, picturing Maxime in my unicorn headband the whole way.
The memory kept me smiling all morning, too.
With a grunt, I hefted my washing basket onto my hip thenchecked above my head for bees. I spent a few hours removing the bougainvillaea flowers with my nail scissors last week. The result? A stress-free few meters before I hit the lavender.
With a shake of my head, I set off towards the washing line. The distant seagulls cried, and the sea-breeze rustled through the thick creepers that clung to the cliff.
I crept forward, hugging the safety of the stone until the line of rusted poles appeared through the haze of green.
Beyond them, the outbuilding sat half in shadow; the door yawning open.
Then movement.
I stopped dead.
My heart kicked against my ribs as I strained to see. A shape shifted just beyond the door, and I instinctively held my breath.The sharp rays of sun glinted off something metal—then came the unmistakable clink of a tool against a hard surface.
I edged closer, blood rushing in my ears. Then I saw him.
Maxime.
He was shirtless—of course he was—bent low beside a motorbike, dark hair falling into his face. His bronze skin glowed in the sun and the muscles of his forearms fired as he turned a screwdriver.
I pulled in a breath, shallow and tight.
He looked just as good as he did last night. As if my heart hadn’t had enough excitement, a low hum reached my ears. I scanned the grass ahead. No flowers. In fact, there were no blooms within ten meters. The buzz came again, louder thistime, and I glanced up. Unless the power lines were down nearby, there had to be a rogue bee on the loose.
There it was—big, clumsy, and lugging bundles of pollen on its back legs.
And it barrelled straight toward me
I opened my mouth to scream but stopped myself. Maxime already thought I was weird—washing my hair in his garden, drawing people in coffee, and asking him to tie me up.Okay, that was a slight overstatement. But as far as I knew, bondage wasn’t on the average person’s to-do list.
I looked up again. With its erratic loop-the-loops, the bee looked full kamikaze, ready to dive-bomb into my washing basket. With a squeal, I moved forward. And I was on track for a clean getaway until my toe collided with a rock.
