‘They use their sharp horns. And they’re big.’
Oh… the way Fi’s eyes widened made something tighten deep in his chest. ‘Don’t worry,’ he added swiftly. ‘They stay away from people if they can, and Heidi is here. She’ll let me know if asanglieris close. We will keep you safe.’
He opened the zip on the insulated bag as soon as they reached the table.
‘Are you hungry?’
Fi nodded. ‘And thirsty. Have you got some water in there?’
‘I do. And something else.’ Christophe lifted out some small pear-shaped bottles of dark orangey-red soft drink and flipped off the lids. ‘Aranciata rossa. My guilty pleasure.’ He gave her the ghost of a wink.
‘It looks like Irn Bru,’ Fi said. ‘That’s our national drink in Scotland.’ She took a sip. ‘It tastes a bit like it, too. Yum yum.’ She was smiling at him. ‘How do you say “yum yum” in French?’
‘Miam miam.’
She laughed. ‘Of course. It’s the same sound. And in Italian?’
‘Gnam gnam.’
She only caught his gaze for a moment but he could see the way her smile had made her eyes light up. Or maybe it was a sliver of sunshine through the treetops that had reached far enough to reveal the sparkle that softened the brown of her eyes and sprinkled bright flecks of gold and red in her hair.
She was…bellissima. So beautiful. He knew he couldn’t let the thought show in his face, however, so he focussed on the contents of the bag again.
‘I hope you like this.’ He handed her a wrapped parcel of food.
Fi opened it and took a bite. And then she closed her eyes as she chewed, an expression of sheer pleasure on her face. It was just as well she couldn’t see him, Christophe thought, because there was no way he couldn’t watch her eating the food he had prepared. He could feel her enjoyment so clearly, he could taste the sandwich himself before he even took a bite.
‘Ooh…’ Fi opened her eyes and stared at what she was holding, the tip of her tongue appearing to catch a reminder of the taste. ‘Whatisthis?’
‘A stromboli. It’s pizza dough baked with things inside it. Like a sandwich. There’s ham and salami and olives and cheese – mozzarella and provolone – and some sun-dried tomatoes and?—’
‘And it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten,’ Fi interrupted. She took another bite.
‘Grazie mille,’ he responded.
She swallowed hurriedly. ‘Youmade this?’
‘I did.’ He shrugged. ‘I love to cook. My nonna taught me, the way she taught my mamma. We all love to cook. And to eat. And we all know that the best thing is to make other people happy with our food.’
‘I’m happy.’ Fi was looking at her food rather than him and she sounded enchantingly shy. ‘Miam miam…’
She peeped up at him for just a fraction of a second from beneath a thick tangle of eyelashes that were the same, rich red-brown colour as her hair.
Ohh…
He could fall in love with this woman in a heartbeat if he let himself.
Maybe he couldn’t stop that happening.
What he could do, however, was to ensure that he kept it hidden well enough that nobody would be able to guess. Especially Fiona.
It wasn’t simply that she deserved more than he could ever offer her. Or that, no matter how much pain someone had been through in the past, it was still possible to be hurt again.
No… this had a selfish motive as well. There was something so enchanting about this third Gilchrist sister that meant he didn’t want to lose sight of her and, if she got even a glimpse of what he was thinking, or feeling, he knew she would run – so far and so fast that it was more than likely he would never see her again.
10
‘This is so kind of you.’ Jeannie Gilchrist climbed out of Julien Rousseau’s car when they arrived in the village of Saint-Martin-Vésubie, close to the Italian border and just another fifteen minutes’ drive into the mountains from where they’d dropped his grandmother and mother at their home in Roquebillière after the hospital appointment.
