The Night That Started It All (23 page)

As well, an elderly gentleman from Venice made the journey. When he’d first strolled into the
mairie’s
and sat down beside his wife, Shari glimpsed a sudden rare shimmer in Luc’s eyes.

A magnificent reception was held at the Ritz, one of the Hotel’s last great events before it shut up shop for renovation. Everyone Shari and Luc knew in Paris was there, including some friends Shari had made at her language class.

Even if Neil hadn’t been able to come, even if Shari hadn’t been wearing a Valentino original, cut specifically to reveal the blue bird of happiness on her shoulder, just seeing her lover’s joy would have made the day fantastic. As it was, it was sheerest heaven.

After the dancing, the toasts, the love and bonhomie of family and friends, Luc whisked his bride upstairs for one last splendid night in their favourite suite. Then in the morning, after a long and leisurely breakfast, he flew her to Italy for their honeymoon, where they planned to explore the Amalfi Coast for some weeks while their apartment was being renovated.

This time in palest ivory trimmed with softest aquamarine and a pale, pale, very watery blue, shades Shari knew suited her complexion perfectly.

It was a beautiful time of life.

‘H
ERE
,’ Luc said. ‘Give him to me. We don’t want him to catch a chill.’

They were strolling together in the Rue Montorgueil. It was late in the day, and Shari felt the sudden cool snap in the breeze.

Although their baby boy was dressed well, the air could turn frosty in a second. Luckily Luc was wearing his padded jacket.

Shari handed the precious bundle over and Luc positioned him carefully inside his coat while Shari drew up the zipper.

‘Not too far, now,’ his father warned. ‘Let him see out.’

Shari laughed as Luc-Henri chortled and his eyes, brown now and growing darker by the day, opened wide at the sudden change in his circumstances.

‘There, now, isn’t it lovely being held in Papa’s arms? I quite like it myself.’ Luc laughed with her, then she noticed him glance up at a passer-by and wave, his face alight with pride and pleasure.

Shari looked at the stranger. ‘Who’s that? Do I know him from somewhere?’

‘Remember? He’s the
boulanger
from the bakery near the fruit market.’

‘Oh, of course. I know. How nice of him to wave. He must have noticed that ours is the most beautiful babe in Paris.’

‘
And
he has the most beautiful
maman.’

She smiled and planted a kiss on his bristly jaw. ‘Thank you. That reminds me. Have you ever read
The Outlaw Earl?’

He lifted his brows. ‘I don’t believe so. What happens in it?’

‘Well, this beautiful lonely maiden is kidnapped from the home of her greedy parents by a wicked, but really hot earl.’

‘Ah. And then what?’ His eyes gleamed with a piercingly sensual light. ‘Tell me.’