Chapter Twenty

While Aly slept, Niko, tired though he was, lay staring at a spider crawling across the ceiling. With the woman he loved snuggled in his arms, his mind juggled a list of recriminations. Hadn’t his maman repeatedly told him he lacked patience? He should have waited. Waited to tell her everything about The Red Hand. Waited to tell her she was officially dead.

A homeless person, bearing I.D. in Aly’s name, was cremated yesterday with a service following. He, his maman and Marie-Clare attended the cremation to perpetuate the fraud. Eddie from Shakespeare and Company and Derrek the German artist and musician attended also. Only they had no idea the woman they came to mourn recovered in a nearby hospital.

He ran a hand down his face. The whole business was ugly, but he bore no qualms about protecting the woman he loved. Only their families, Marie-Clare and Jean-Luc knew the truth. He’d kept Henri out of the loop, too. Not because he didn’t trust him, but because his superior was often too difficult to handle. No doubt he’d have balked at his pretense of listing Aly as a murder victim.

Perhaps telling Aly he loved her and asking her to stay on in Paris earlier was a mistake, too. That conversation deserved the romantic atmosphere of champagne and candles. How could he convince her to stay and give their relationship a chance? Was that all he wanted? A relationship?

No, he wanted more. He wanted a marriage and children. He wanted to see her body swell with his child. Was she truly as barren as she thought? How sexually active were she and Chaz? Not very, he’d venture. Just how experienced was his Aly? At times he wondered if she were fully initiated to the passions a man could ignite in a woman’s soul. He smiled and hardened at the thought; perhaps her soul waited on him.

He would buy Marie-Clare’s shop and apartment. Together they could make a home there. She could open a shop of her choosing. Do whatever she wanted, whatever made her happy.

She moaned and snuggled closer. He stroked her back to reassure her. In her sleep, she kissed his neck. God, how I love her. After the way she freaked when he mentioned living together for a year, how would she react if he mentioned marriage? She slid her bare leg over his, and his hard-on pulsed in response.

Before she crawled into bed, she took a quick shower and put on a pink sleep shirt that read, “If chocolate is made from beans, does that make it a vegetable?” Where did the woman get these things? Thank God she wasn’t lying here in satin and lace. Just thinking about it made him start drooling. He’d been having a lot of fantasies about her—hot, sexual fantasies.

He wondered if she wore panties under that ugly sleep shirt. If he slid his hand up her leg now, while she slept, he could find out. And wouldn’t that make him the biggest kind of cad? Although, the thought of rolling her over, kissing her awake and branding her with the heat of his desire certainly appealed.

His hold on her tightened. Not yet. She needed a few days healing time. Her needs came before his. For now, he delighted in the feel of her body next to his, the warmth of her and the sound of her deep breathing. For now, they were together, they were safe and he loved her.

****

Alyson woke slowly, registered her pain level and stretched. Semi-darkness cast the bedroom in shadows. She peered at her wristwatch: three-twenty. She’d slept over six hours. The apartment was quiet. Was she alone?

After she used the bathroom, she slipped into a white lounge set Simone packed for her. Embroidered seashells ran across the chest and also graced the hems of the pants. She padded out of the bedroom toward the balcony, her Paris sketchbooks held to her chest. The glass doors hung open, and Niko was lounging on a chair, reading a book. His head turned as she approached.

“How are you feeling, cherie?”

“Better. Much better.” She sat on a matching lounge chair. “Sorry I slept so long.”

“Hey, you did exactly what you’re supposed to do. Sleep. Rest. Heal. You’re due for some pain medicine.” He stood. “Hungry?”

He was wearing khaki shorts and a snug green T-shirt. Her gaze went to his toned calves. She was pathetic where he was concerned. The man simply turned her on. He cleared his throat, and her eyes slid to his face. His head was tilted to the side, the one corner of his mouth quirked into a smile and desire darkening his eyes. He had his hands on his hips, waiting, watching. The heat of a blush crept up her neck. “Ah…yes. Yes to both.”

Niko bent over her, stared into her eyes and kissed her. So many emotions poured into the gentle kiss that when he pulled back, a whoosh of air escaped from her lips—or was it steam?

Alyson was studying the sketches in one of her books when Niko returned with a tray. “Take your pills first. They’re on the napkin. The orange juice is freshly squeezed.” On the plate lay a croissant ham and cheese sandwich and one perfect red rose. A bowl of yogurt topped with fresh strawberries sat on the tray also.

“You made this?” She picked up the rose and held it to her nose, the smell was sweet and heady. “You squeezed the oranges yourself?”

“I made the sandwich. God made the rose.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Yes, I have enough strength to squeeze a few oranges, even if I am weak with love.” He chuckled when she rolled her eyes. “Would you like a cup of espresso? I’ll make us each one, if you do.”

Alyson swallowed her pills. “Yes, please. This juice is great.”

“I found a little market up the street while you slept. Great place. Lots of fresh fruits and vegetables.”

After she ate and Niko cleared away the dishes, they sat watching the waves and sipping their espressos. He’d moved his chaise lounge next to hers placing a narrow table between them for their coffees. After he sat, he checked the messages on his cell.

“Is that a new phone? It doesn’t look the same.”

“Yes. I bought a new one before we left Paris. For safety precautions.”

“Safety?”

“Yes, your cell had a tracking program in it. New technology Giselle researched. When she had access to your purse at headquarters and inserted that tracking device in it, she also downloaded an illegal app to your cell. That’s how The Red Hand knew you were at my home, because you had your cell with you. Jean-Luc found the malware when he checked out your phone after you were shot.”

“You thought she might have done the same thing with your phone?”

“Yes. I had to be sure we weren’t tracked here.” He slipped the cell into his pocket. “Let’s not ruin our afternoon by talking about The Red Hand. My mind needs a break from all that. I’ve been on overload these last few days.” He lifted his cup to his lips and sipped. “Tell me about your childhood. Were you and Gwen close?”

“Yes, always. I’m six years older, so I mothered Gwen. Still do, I guess. Although, it seems she’s been controlling my life of late.”

He reached out and took her hand. “How so?”

“After I found out Chaz was gay and my whole marriage had been a lie, I went into a pretty bad depression. Nothing much mattered.”

He brought her hand to his lips. “I’d say that’s normal.”

“Well, we both have a fear of depression, Gwen and I. Our mother was clinically depressed for years. She was often distant, given to long bouts of crying and continually exhausted. Throughout most of my marriage, I spent most evenings alone. To keep depression at bay, I took classes.” She sipped her espresso. “I probably know a smidgen of everything.”

“Like what? You told me about the karate and kung-fu. What else did you study?”

She set the tiny cup in its saucer. “Car maintenance.” Niko’s eyebrows rose. “I’m serious. I give a great oil change. Can change a flat tire in under five minutes.”

Niko laughed. “You’re kidding! What other classes did you take?”

“Computers, quilting, sign language, pottery, cooking and basket weaving, just to name a few. I can wire lamps and fix the plumbing. Oh, and I can hang tile and install carpeting.”

“Wow, I’m impressed. I knew you were very intelligent. I can tell by the way your mind works, questioning, evaluating the facts and zinging into the heart of the matter. You’d do good in intelligence work, I’d wager.”

She looked at him for a few beats. A man who noticed and appreciated a woman’s intellect: amazing. “Thanks.” When was the last time Chaz told her she was intelligent? Had he ever? “I took a lot of classes during those ten years of loneliness.”

Niko squeezed her hand. “You won’t be lonely anymore, mon amour. You have me now. Tell me, why did you stay with him if your marriage was that bad?”

“I made a commitment for better or worse. So I put up with a lot. Finding out he had a man in our marriage bed was the final straw. Betrayal is a powerful hatchet. Its cutting edge divides a couple.”

“I can imagine it would. So, tell me, how is Gwen controlling your life?”

“Like I said, I was battling depression. Was on medication for a while. Gwen encouraged me to make some changes in my life.” She shrugged a shoulder. “You already know she talked me into getting the tattoo. She talked me into this trip. Said I should meet a handsome Frenchman and jump his bones.” At Niko’s expression, she laughed. “Her words, not mine. I’d say the person who helped me recover the most was my niece, Rhiannon. She enjoys every minute thing in this world and has this infectious laugh. She calls me ‘Auntie Boo.’”

“Auntie Boo?” His eyebrow quirked.

“Yes. When she was small, I used to play peek-a-boo with her all the time. She loved it, and we played it years longer than most children want. Somewhere along the way, I became Auntie Boo.”

“Charming story. I wonder what Olivia will call me? I have two older nephews. Margo’s children. Bernard is eleven and Claude-James is nine. They live about five miles south of Paris. A rowdy bunch.” He laughed and shook his head. “They drive Margo nuts.

“How is your pain level, cherie? Feel up to a short walk on the beach? The doctor said you should do light exercise to rebuild your strength.”

“I’d love it.”

Niko unlocked the gate at the end of the balcony and led her down the steps. He glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes is all you can do.”

“Nonsense. I can certainly walk for thirty minutes.” She knew how this game worked. Both she and Gwen played their dad like this as they were growing up.

“Like hell.” He took her hand. “I might allow fifteen.”

“Allow? What planet do you live on? Twenty-five. If you can’t walk that long, you can head back after your little fifteen minute stroll.” If she had to shame the man into giving her the twenty minute walk she wanted, she would.

He coiled his arm around her waist and drew her close, his forehead pressed against hers. “Twenty and not one second more.”

Alyson smiled sweetly. “Okay.” She turned and walked on.

He caught up to her in a few strides. “Wait, I was had, wasn’t I?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Truthfully, she felt rather good about outfoxing him. She doubted many people got anything over on Niko. She stepped around a trio of sunbathers, who appeared college age. All three young women sat up and ogled Niko. A pang of jealousy hit her gut. Could the other women see the difference in their ages?

A Frisbee sailed in her direction. Before she could duck, Niko’s hand snaked out and caught it. He threw it toward the little boy rushing toward them, offering his apologies.

Niko wrapped his arm around her waist again. “I won’t forget how you conned me just now. There will be a day of reckoning.” Humor twinkled in his eyes. “Can you really do sign language?”

“Sure. I often help with deaf students at school. Helps to keep my skills fresh.”

“How do you say your name in sign language?”

“The correct term is sign. How do I sign my name.” She showed him, and he mimicked her hand movements. “This is how you sign Niko.”

He repeated the signing of both names several times as if memorizing them. “What are some more? How would one sign if they needed help? I suppose as an officer of the law, I should know some of this.”

“You really should. This is how you sign help.” She repeated the signing a couple times. “This is I’m hurt.”

“I think that’s enough for now. I’ll never remember them all. Oh, what about I love you? How do you sign that?”

“Oh no, I’m not teaching you that. I know you well enough to know you’ll be telling everyone I told you I love you. No way, buster. We had that argument earlier today. In fact I have some things stuck in my craw I haven’t forgiven you for yet.”

“You know how to hurt a guy. Let’s turn back. We’ve walked for ten minutes. I don’t want you overdoing. Besides I have a chicken to put in the oven for dinner.”

“The man cooks. I’m impressed.”

****

Getting Aly to lie down after their walk wasn’t as difficult as he expected. While she slept, he roasted a chicken, potatoes and carrots. He made a salad. Nothing fancy, but it was healthy. Truthfully, his cooking skills were pretty basic. He carried the little dining table out onto the balcony so they could enjoy the fresh air and soothing sound of the waves. In the drawer of a cabinet, he found a white tablecloth and blue napkins. When he had the table set, he was pleased with his efforts. He wanted a romantic dinner with Aly, what he hoped would be the first of many.

The stars were out when the woman he loved stepped out onto the balcony. “I thought I heard music. Oh, Niko, this is so beautiful.”

Niko had his favorite soft jazz playing on an old radio he found in a closet. A bouquet of roses sat on the table. Her pleasure over his preparations pleased him. “How are you feeling, cherie?”

“A little stiff, but well rested. What’s for dinner? Everything smells so good.”

He pulled a chair out for her. “Will Madame have a seat? My name is Niko and I’ll be your waiter for the evening. May I pour you some wine?” He pulled a bottle from a bucket of ice and presented it against his forearm in the age-old waiter tradition. “Tonight, Chez Reynard is serving a lovely Vouvray. Is Madame familiar with Vouvray?”

Aly covered her mouth with both hands to stifle a giggle and shook her head. Her blue eyes danced with obvious delight over his performance.

“Ah, then allow me—” he pressed his palm against his chest “—your favorite French waiter, to educate you.” He removed the cork and set the bottle on the table. “Vouvray is a quintessential French wine made from grapes that grow in the Loire Valley. It comes in two varieties—sparkling and still. During cooler years, the grapes produce a sparkling wine. When the weather is warm, the still wine is made. This was produced during a cooler year and, thus, is sparkling. Although it pales in comparison to the sparkle in Madame’s beautiful eyes.” He made a show of smelling the cork, and Aly dissolved into laughter. What a delightful sound.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Promise me you’ll laugh every day. It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.” He filled the flutes with wine. “A toast to my hearing you laugh every day.”

They ate their meal under the stars, talking and laughing. A yacht slowly sailed by, its lights reflecting on the water like liquid fireflies. Dessert was chocolate covered strawberries. Later, when she was tucked safely in the bed, and he was stretched out uncomfortably on the sofa, he thought of how her mouth looked closing over those damned strawberries. He punched the pillow and groaned. A man was made to wake up with a hard-on, not to go to sleep with one.