want to ever leave it again.
And now here she was. Merde! He didn’t know where she was in her life. He didn’t know her situation. Perhaps she had moved on. Of course she had moved on. So had he… with Madeleine.
She was stood with a man tonight. A man who looked older than her. A man in a cheap suit. He did not want to believe she was involved with this man. Not when his own heart was telling him his moment had finally come.
*
Emma stepped out onto the decking and walked up to the wooden railings. There was the view of the lazy river Ally had told everyone about. The air was not the cooling balm that she had been hoping for. The warm humidity enveloped her.
Of all the people Ally could have got to open the fitness centre, why was it him? It was too weird to be a coincidence, wasn’t it? But Ally didn’t know. Ally didn’t have a clue. Why would she? A guy called Guy that had never been mentioned after Emma returned from France. Even if she had accidentally mentioned him, Ally couldn’t remember the names of her own boyfriends let alone any of Emma’s.
‘Emma?’
The sound of his voice sent a shockwave right through her. She couldn’t respond or turn around. She was rooted to the spot, scared into a statue. She closed her eyes and held her breath. Perhaps if she were lucky she would melt with the heat, dissolve into a pool of yellowness right before his eyes like the witch in The Wizard of Oz.
‘Emma? Is it you?’ the voice said again.
She was biting her teeth together so hard her jaw was aching. She couldn’t look into his face and see those eyes. She just couldn’t. No, she would just stand still and look like she was nonchalantly gazing at the view.
A hand lightly touched her arm and then he was next to her, looking at her. Guy Duval, right in front of her. His dark hair framed his face. His green eyes gazed at her. His body was so close to hers.
‘Emma,’ he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. He leaned forward and kissed her first on one cheek and then the other before she had a chance to move.
‘I… don’t know you,’ Emma said, her cheeks flaming.
Who was she trying to kid? This was ridiculous. Her heart was pumping like an engine and she felt sick. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t know who he was. Time had gone by but… you didn’t erase people you’d been intimate with as easily as that. Especially someone you had planned a future with.
‘It is me, Emma. Guy, Guy Duval. I know I look a little different? The clothes maybe?’ Guy suggested, holding out one side of his beautifully tailored jacket.
She was trying to conjure up the contemptuous feelings she had for him all those years ago when he’d destroyed her. But all she could feel was excitement. She was thrilled that he was in front of her, looking more gorgeous than she had remembered. There was no more pretending to be done. He knew it was her. The game was up and it was time to deal with the reality of him being here.
‘We fell in love,’ Guy whispered.
As he said the words, every muscle in her being tightened. They were on a newly constructed deck, overlooking a fake river surrounded by local dignitaries quaffing Cristal, but she had been transported back to a French Riviera campsite and he was the eighteen-year-old heartthrob she’d stripped of his clothes. How could she pretend not to know him? Eight years wasn’t a long time, and when you’ve bared your soul to someone, you never forget. You cling on to every memory you’ve ever made with them.
‘Emma! Here you are! Ah, Guy, I see you’ve met my best friend, Emma,’ Ally said, appearing at Emma’s side and linking her arm through hers.
‘Well…’ Guy started, his eyes not leaving Emma’s.
‘Isn’t he fabulous? He was so patient with the crowds today. There wasn’t one person without a photo and an autograph,’ Ally continued.
Emma nodded, gritting her teeth and trying to look anywhere but Guy’s face. She could feel him looking at her. Those intense green eyes that reminded her of the deep, bottomless Mediterranean. The full lips so beautifully shaped as if they were just waiting to be kissed.
She fell off one of her shoes and grabbed Ally for support.
‘Sorry! Not the champagne, the shoes.