She looked at him, not sure how to take his words.
‘Detrimental in the very best of ways,’ he said, reaching out to touch her hand, his fingers lingering over hers, as if to gauge her reaction.
Delphine stayed still, her breath catching in her throat, as he smiled at her.
‘If you like dinner, you’ll love dessert,’ he said, removing his hand and picking up his fork again.
Delphine’s breath returned and she found it almost impossible to concentrate on her food, thinking of nothing other than Florian’s touch, about the way he made her feel whenever she was with him.
And when he looked up at her and smiled, his gaze lingering on hers, she knew that she would never, ever feel this way about another man. She’d fallen in love with Florian, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, it would only take one word, one gesture, for her to fall into his arms.
As they stood at his door barely two hours later, she wished their night hadn’t come to an end. Just like the nights that had come before, he was the perfect gentleman, but she wanted very much for him not to be.
‘Florian,’ she said. ‘I…’ She cleared her throat as Florian leaned past her, his hand on the door to open it for her.
She didn’t know how to read the expression on his face, or perhaps she simply didn’t trust herself; didn’t believe that he could feel that way about her.
He stopped, so close, his eyes finding hers as she drew upon her confidence, as she summoned a nerve that was slowly disappearing on her.
‘I wish I didn’t have to go,’ she said.
Florian slowly dropped his hand from the door, his gaze unwavering as he stared back at her. She knew he was waiting for her, that he wouldn’t cross the line that existed between them without her encouragement, without her being explicit in what she wanted, and she also knew that if she didn’t do it now, she might never tell him how she felt.
‘I would very much like to…’ She swallowed, losing her words but taking a step towards him instead. She lifted one hand and placed it lightly on his chest, lowering her gaze before finally glancing back up at him.Please don’t look at me like my husband did. Please don’t push me away. Please don’t make me regret showing you how I truly feel.
Delphine stood on tiptoes and hovered, her mouth close to Florian’s, desperately wanting to kiss him, to see what his lips tasted like, to see how they made her feel when they moved against hers. To change their relationship from friendship to lovers.
He pulled back and fear rose inside her. She lowered herself to her heels, mortified that she’d read the situation wrong, that she’d done something so deeply out of character, something he didn’t want to reciprocate.
Only she hadn’t.
Florian cupped her face with his hands, staring down into her eyes with such a hopeful expression, she could tell he wanted it as much as she did. His hesitation wasn’t the same as Giovanni’s; she could see that now. He was wanting to make sure, to savour the moment.
‘Delphine, if we do this, if we take this step…’
She smiled up at him, and immediately Florian lost his composure and kissed her, his palms still against her cheeks as his mouth met hers, forgetting his words. It was a slow, soft kiss the first time, but as she pressed herself against him and hishands fell to her waist, her arms looping around his neck, their lips began to move with more urgency.
‘I’ve waited days to kiss you,’ he said, touching his forehead to hers, his breathing as ragged as her own.
‘I thought you didn’t want me in that way,’ she murmured, as his lips brushed hers again and again. ‘I was starting to doubt what this was.’
‘I want you in more ways than you could possibly imagine. But most important, Delphine, I want you in my bed, and I have from the very first time I laid eyes upon you.’
Her breath caught as he stroked his hands up and down her back, his eyes searching hers as if trying to gauge her answer. But instead of saying anything, she simply slipped her hand into his. Florian didn’t need further encouragement this time, for he clasped her hand back and led her towards the stairs.
It appeared that their night wasn’t over, after all.
14
GENEVA, AUGUST 1951
Delphine lay in Florian’s arms, the sheets strewn around them, their limbs still tangled. She couldn’t believe how different it was to be in bed with a man like Florian, how loved he made her feel, how alive. She also couldn’t believe how quickly she’d fallen for him, or how desperately she wanted to spend every spare minute she had with him.
And now, as he propped himself up with pillows and she lay nestled in his arms, her cheek to his chest as he smoked a cigarette, she knew that this was how she wanted to feel for the rest of her life: loved and nurtured by a man who couldn’t keep his eyes, or his hands, off her. Cherished in a way she’d never felt in her marriage, wanted in a way she hadn’t even known was possible.
‘I want you for longer than just stolen moments,’ Florian said as he blew out a puff of smoke and offered her the cigarette.
She’d never smoked before Florian, but now whenever they made love, he’d taken to lighting one afterwards, and she found she liked to indulge, blowing the smoke up into the air. The way she was with Florian was different to how she was in almost every other part of her life, as if she became a version of herselfwith him that no one else had ever seen. As if she was finally, unequivocally, herself.
