A Perfect Paris Christmas - Mandy Baggot Page 0,129

of ‘comfortable’ she had talked so passionately about. After their night together he had thought they had shared themselves completely. Except there was that large scar on her belly she had laughed off when he had asked her about it… Fear was in complete control of his reactions now. What if there was something wrong with her? What if she was sick?

‘I have to see her,’ Ethan said, powerwalking towards the hotel. ‘Not crazy or angry, perhaps not cool either but… I have to see her.’

‘Wait!’ Jeanne called. ‘Do not ask anyone for a key card! Ethan!’

Sixty-Nine

The Durand House, Neuilly-sur-Seine, Paris

Keeley was still shaking like the branch of a Christmas tree being attacked by a cat as she sat on a two-seater chaise longue by the fire in Silvie’s living room. She was nursing an elegant cup and saucer that was mainly filled with coffee, but had also been liberally splashed with brandy that came from a decanter that looked like it could star alongside Fiona Bruce.

‘Keeley,’ Silvie said, padding closer to her, another blanket in her arms. ‘You are still cold?’

Keeley shook her head. She wasn’t cold, she was grieving. She was mourning the loss of the first relationship with a man she’d had that had any real value to it. Something so unexpected. Something that had happened so quickly yet snowballed and snowballed until it had meant the world. Tears slipped from her eyes, one of them dropping into the dark coffee.

‘Keeley, tell me,’ Silvie begged. ‘Tell me what has happened to make you this way.’

Keeley sniffed, turning her head a little to face the French woman. An employee had opened the door to Keeley’s ringing on the doorbell as the taxi drove out of the Durands’ gate. Her face red from tears and her hair covered in snow, she had stood by the giant Christmas tree, the weather dripping off her boots and pooling on the tiles. Silvie had appeared on the stairs dressed in a full-length light pink silk dressing gown, kitten-heeled slippers on her feet, two large plastic curlers in her hair that she was taking out as she regarded her. And Keeley hadn’t said anything. She had just kept on silently crying, shoulders quivering, emotion seeping out of her until Silvie had ushered her inside, stripping her of her coat.

‘Keeley,’ Silvie breathed. ‘Please. I am worried for you. Have you been… attacked? Are you hurt? Where is Rach?’

‘No,’ Keeley breathed. She looked at the coffee cup, wondering whether to drink some of the liquid or to put it on the antique-looking table next to her. ‘And Rach… is OK.’

Keeley hadn’t gone back to their hotel. She had hailed a taxi and come straight here looking for answers she hadn’t had the strength to ask anyone the questions for yet. She needed to try and distance herself from her feelings for Ethan for a moment and quieten the roar of her heart to get to the truth.

‘Then what can I do?’ Silvie asked her, eyes full of deep concern. ‘Please, Keeley, tell me what I can do.’

Keeley reached for her hand then, drawing the woman closer until Silvie dropped down into the seat next to her. The blanket fell out of the woman’s arms and hit the floor.

Keeley took one of the biggest breaths she had ever taken, feeling the air fill her entire body, and her eyes drifted then to a photograph on the mantle. Ferne. She let out a sigh, really concentrating, trying to look into the heart of the woman who had given her the ultimate gift. Had Ferne loved Ethan too? Was that what she was going to hear from Silvie when she dared to ask? How could that happen? How could fate allow that to happen?

‘Keeley, you are worrying me,’ Silvie spoke then. ‘Are you ill? Do you need me to call a doctor?’

‘No,’ Keeley said straightaway. ‘It’s… not like that.’ She gave Silvie’s hand a squeeze. ‘I’m sorry,’ she breathed. ‘For turning up here and, well, for… turning up here.’

‘Keeley, you can come here any time. It is my wish to spend as much time with you as you are willing to give me. I have not pushed things because, well, we both know it is a difficult situation and I really would not wish for you to feel uncomfortable.’

‘I don’t,’ Keeley reassured, nodding. ‘I really don’t.’ She swallowed. ‘At first, perhaps, because I was nervous, I felt a little overwhelmed. But, getting to know you, it has been