more festive as every day passed. It was getting to that stage where Keeley was becoming accustomed to being here, getting used to speaking a few words of French, craving the chance to have cheese without a disapproving Lizzie look and strolling along the cobbled streets discovering the tourist trail of the city as well as its hidden parts. Including the parts of Ethan she had discovered last night…
Keeley smiled at him. ‘You’ll think it’s silly if I tell you.’
‘I would never think that,’ he assured her.
‘Well… my friend at the hospice I told you about… Erica. She… wants to see a photo of you.’ She was blushing straightaway. She might have slept with this gorgeous guy, but were they at the taking photos stage? Which one usually came first in this whole holiday romance scenario? Probably, weirdly, not the taking photos part.
‘What is silly about that?’ he asked. ‘Unless…’
Then he pouted as if suddenly struck by something. How was it fair that a man had lips to-die-for like that?
‘Unless?’ Keeley asked.
‘Unless you would rather send her a photograph of… Alec Benjamin?’
Keeley laughed. ‘Do you even know who Alec Benjamin is?’
‘I have had a crash course this afternoon. Jeanne hacked into my Spotify. I could probably sing you all the songs.’
She smiled. This was a man she definitely felt so comfortable with. ‘Would you mind?’ She quickly continued. ‘The photo… not the singing. Unless you want to.’
‘Of course,’ Ethan said. ‘A selfie. Come on,’ he encouraged. ‘Here, with the Palais Garnier in the background.’
The Palais Garnier was a magnificent sight. Golden-coloured effigies stood proudly at the forefront of the roof, with smaller busts in-between and a large green figure at its centre. Keeley was sure Noel would have been able to tell her the history behind it all, but this time she would have to refer back to her guidebook when she returned to the hotel. Sometimes thumbing the pages of a reference in the moment killed the magic. She took her phone from her bag and turned the screen around to capture them both, lining their faces up and eager to get some of the best bits of the statuesque building behind. She felt Ethan slip his arm around her shoulders and draw her closer, that gorgeous, wide smile, appearing on those lips…
‘For your friend,’ Ethan said, still smiling for the pose.
‘Erica,’ Keeley breathed, widening her smile too. She pressed the button and committed the picture to her camera roll.
Ethan let a breath go then, cupping his hands together and blowing into them.
‘Is everything OK?’ Keeley asked him. ‘You haven’t told me where we’re going.’
He grinned. ‘You are right. I have not.’
‘You seem nervous,’ Keeley said. He did seem nervous, or perhaps it was more a case of nervous energy.
‘Maybe a little,’ he admitted.
‘Why? What’s all the secrecy?’
‘Come, I have something to show you. But first, we are going to play a game.’ He took her hand in his, squeezing it a little. It was both comforting and somehow super-sexy. A game? She hoped it wasn’t the kind found beneath the pages of an erotic novel. She might have felt liberated by the complete abandonment of her apologise-for-everything Britishness in their love-making last night but she wasn’t sure bedroom games were quite her bag this soon…
‘Now you look a little scared,’ Ethan remarked. ‘It is nothing difficult, I promise.’
Keeley was trying not to think of all the ‘easy’ half-hours she had spent with items labelled ‘body contouring’. Perhaps she should have asked more questions of Rach prior to this. She had left her friend in the hotel suite, zinging between emails to a salubrious House 2 Home client she apparently had to give attention to even though she was on holiday and ringing down to reception deliberately asking for things not on the room service menu and intentionally calling Antoine Antonie.
‘OK,’ Keeley answered a little stiffly.
‘Hey,’ Ethan said, putting his arm around her and pulling her gently against him. ‘If you are not one for surprises, I can tell you. I do not want you to feel… less than “comfortable” about tonight.’
He had purred the word ‘comfortable’ and the happy sparks were back.
‘I trust you that it’s going to be a surprise I’m going to like,’ she answered him.
‘Je promets,’ he whispered, his mouth close to her ear. ‘I promise.’
*
Ethan’s heart was somewhere between his throat and his ears as he pushed open the ornate iron gates that led into the rear entrance of Perfect Paris Opera. This was