She took a shuddering breath. There was fear here; he felt it as if it were his own. Maybe it was. Run, he pleaded silently. Dear God, Simone, don’t do this. Don’t even try.
‘Do you know what I would take from you this visit?’ she said quietly. ‘Friendship.’
‘Don’t,’ he muttered. ‘Simone, don’t.’
‘Guarded if you like. Conditional if need be. But I would very much like to get to know the man you’ve become.’
‘No.’ She asked too much of him. She always had. He headed for the door, knowing it for retreat. Knowing that whatever ground he’d thought to protect, he’d somehow just lost. ‘I can’t walk that road with you,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Not now, not ever.’ He let his anger surface, he let it fan his pain and she flinched away from what she saw in his eyes and well she should have. He headed for the door, fast, before he hauled her in his arms and showed her exactly why he could never be her friend. ‘I just can’t.’
Simone stood her ground as he strode from the court-yard and then from the room without a backward glance. She knew he wouldn’t look back, he never had, even as a boy. Forward was the only way for Rafael and she had hoped to appeal to that need in him. Confront the past head on in order to move on.
So much for that particular notion.
Simone closed her eyes and let the twin blades of weariness and abandonment overtake her.
She’d come here for a wedding because she had to. She’d come here, out of her element and out of her league, to try and broker some sort of peace with her past and with Rafael.
She was trying, dammit!
Coffee would be good. Coffee, and then she and Sarah would fit the bridal gown to the dressmaker’s dummy and then she would make that call to Gabrielle. There were jobs to do. Steps to take. She would take pleasure in helping to make Luc and Gabrielle’s wedding day a perfect one. She would find joy in the little things. She would not give way to despair.
As for Rafael, with his smouldering gaze and his barely concealed anger…
Courage.
‘IT’S exquisite,’ said Gabrielle in a hushed and reverent whisper as she fingered the pearl edging of the neckline. ‘I knew when they took my measurements and we agreed on a basic design that it’d be lovely, but never in a million years did I imagine a gown as beautiful as this. It’s like something from a fairy tale. A very sophisticated French fairy tale,’ she added with a grin. ‘Wait ‘til Lucien sees it!’
‘Exactly,’ said Simone. ‘I trust you’ve organised hair and make-up assistance for Sunday?’
‘Done,’ said Gabrielle. ‘Oh, Simone, thank you. Thank you for bringing all this with you, and for coming. I know you have your reservations, but I’m so glad you’re here.’
‘Yes, well…well-founded reservations notwithstanding, I’m glad I’m here too.’ She sat back and smiled at Gabrielle’s continued fascination with her wedding gown. ‘I think we need to get better acquainted with the room service hereabouts. How does a plate full of salmon and black caviar canapés sound? It seems it’s on the menu.’
‘Do they come with a chilled Semillon Blanc?’
‘I’m sure they could…’ Simone grinned and reached for the phone. ‘Let me see.’
Simone added a selection of local cheese and biscuits to the order and replaced the phone in the receiver, well satisfied with her efforts. ‘Food and beverage is on the way. What else do bridesmaids usually do?’
‘They show the bride their bridesmaid gown.’ Gabrielle dragged her gaze away from her wedding dress long enough to spear Simone with a narrow-eyed glance. ‘And what do you mean by “well-founded” reservations? You haven’t even seen Rafe yet.’
‘Not true. He happened by this afternoon.’ Simone headed for the outer hanging cupboard and pulled a strapless floor-length gown in coffee cream with slightly darker pearl beading across the bodice from its depths. ‘Voila! It suits me very well and offsets your gown to perfection. I told you the couturier knew what he was doing.’
‘And so he should, considering what he charges. But you’re right, he does know clothes. You’re going to look divine.’ Gabrielle sent her a questioning smile. ‘Ordinarily I would wax lyrical over the gown a little longer, but my curiosity’s killing me. Rafe was here earlier?’
‘Mmm-hmm.’ Simone slid the dress back into the cupboard and shut the door.
‘And?’ Gabrielle sounded impatient.
Simone turned to face her. ‘And what?’
‘Stop stalling. Was he civil?’
‘After a fashion.’
‘Were you civil?’
‘But of course,’ she said lightly.
‘It was a disaster, wasn’t it?’ asked Gabrielle darkly.
‘Yes.’
‘Do you still have feelings for him?’
‘We grew up together, Gabrielle. I’ll always have feelings for him. Nothing can change that.’
‘Okay, fair enough, let me rephrase. Do you still desire him?’
Trust Gabrielle to get straight to the heart of the matter. ‘It’s hard to say.’
‘Say it anyway,’ muttered Gabrielle. ‘Let me rephrase again. Does he still want you?’
‘He couldn’t get away quickly enough,’ muttered Simone. ‘Does that answer your question?’
‘Not in the slightest,’ said a disgruntled Gabrielle. ‘I knew you’d be an unreliable witness. Why do you think I wanted to be there?’
A discreet knocking sounded on the door. Simone flinched, and stilled, but the knocking did not get louder or more insistent. It had to be room service knocking. The door would not open to reveal Rafael this time. She hoped. Releasing her breath slowly, Simone forced tense muscles to relax and turned towards the door.
‘Allow me.’ Gabrielle shot her a curious glance before heading for the door and opening it to reveal a smiling Sarah bearing a trolley laden with food, elegant crystal wine glasses and white wine on ice.
‘Sarah, you’re just in time,’ said Gabrielle as she helped Sarah wheel the trolley into the room. ‘Did you see Rafe earlier?’
‘Yep.’
‘How did he look?’
‘Bothered.’
‘What about hot?’ asked Gaby the shameless.
‘He always looks hot,’ said Sarah, putting a hand to her heart. ‘Hot and bothered was a new look for him, but frankly, he wore it well. Shall I pour wine for two?’
‘Double over here,’ murmured Simone.
Gabrielle snickered. ‘You do still want him.’
‘I didn’t say that,’ Simone said indignantly. ‘Sarah, did I say that?’
Sarah dimpled and handed her a wine glass filled perilously close to overflowing. ‘So you’re the one.’
‘Pardon?’
‘The one who’s got him all riled. The one who got away. The one who ruined him for all other women,’ offered Sarah expansively.
‘Oh, that’s