‘There are other ways we could celebrate, Antoine,’ she whispered back, standing on tiptoe as she nuzzled his neck.
For the very first time since their relationship had begun, Antoine gently shook his head and held her at arm’s length. ‘As much as I’d like that, we have a dinner to attend.’
She sighed. If it had been any other night, she might have feared that he was tiring of her, but given the apartment he’d just gifted her the keys to, she knew better than to pout. Antoine had given her everything she wanted, and she knew how important this dinner was—to both of them. He’d promised to introduce her to the most influential people in the fashion world, and she’dbeen planning what to wear and how to present herself all week. But still, their time together was limited and she didn’t like to waste a minute with him.
‘You’re certain we don’t have time?’ she asked, reaching out to take hold of his tie and trying to tug him closer, whispering a kiss to his jawline. ‘I haven’t seen you in days, after all.’
Antoine groaned, but didn’t move. ‘We are going to drink champagne to celebrate, go out for dinner, andthenI will be yours. Remember how important tonight is, Evelina. We cannot be late.’
She nodded, taking a little step forward and leaning in to brush a slow kiss to his lips this time, before turning and going to find the champagne. Her life had changed dramatically since meeting Antoine. Now, her clothes were stocked exclusively in Les Galeries Renaud and made by a team of seamstresses that he’d employed on her behalf—he’d proven to be a man of his word—and she’d found herself receiving constant requests from other buyers that she’d so far had to turn down, given her exclusive business relationship with Antoine. There had even been a piece inVoguePariswritten about her, and for the first time, she’d seen her name printed beside Coco Chanel’s; they were apparently both heralding a new era in fashion, and it had felt like the single most important moment of her life. Even the growing rumours of war were doing nothing to quell the interest in her dresses, or stop women from buying so many of her designs that she was barely able to keep inventory available. The past year had truly been a dream come true, and it wasn’t showing any sign of slowing down.
And even better, Antoine shared her vision for her future, and he certainly didn’t seem intimidated by her dreams. If anything, he pushed her to dream even bigger; wasn’t afraid of her ambition like she knew most other men would be.
She returned with the champagne and found Antoine standing out on the small balcony, his hands on the wrought iron balustrade. It reminded her of their first night together, and she set the champagne bottle and glasses down on the coffee table to go up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into his back. It seemed like only yesterday that he’d whispered in her ear and changed the course of both their lives in one night. Now, it felt as if they’d already known each other a lifetime.
They stayed like that for a long moment, before he finally turned in her arms. She looked up at him and he gazed down at her, stroking his thumb gently across her face, his eyes almost impossible to read. Evelina could have stared into his vibrant blue eyes all night.
‘You seem sad,’ she eventually said.
‘I’m not sad,’ he replied. ‘More thoughtful, if anything.’
She waited, knowing he’d eventually tell her what was on his mind.
‘I was imagining living here with you,’ Antoine finally said, pulling her against him and turning them both so that she was facing the view. ‘Imagining what it would be like to come home to you every night. I suppose until now, it never seemed like a possibility, but knowing you’re here…’
She closed her eyes and leaned back against him. Evelina didn’t often let herself have those thoughts—he was a married man, and for appearance’s sake, his home was with his wife, but hearing him say it out loud…it was impossible for her not to wish that it could come true one day, too. Oftentimes she tried to tell herself that theirs was a perfect arrangement, but in truth, she knew that was only her trying to justify what time they spent together.
‘We work so well together like this,’ she forced herself to say, not wanting to shatter the illusion they’d so carefully built,or ruin his reputation. ‘The time we have together, it’s perfect. Wishing for more would only be dangerous.’You would only have to ask the question though, Antoine, and I would be yours forever.
He tipped forward and pressed his cheek to hers. ‘Sometimes, when I’m with you…’
Antoine’s voice trailed off and she quickly turned, smiling brightly and reaching for the champagne. Now wasn’t the time to become melancholy; now was the time for them to drink, dine with his business associates and return to the apartment to make love once the evening was over. She wasn’t going to let herself get carried away with daydreams, not when they were so far from coming true. What they had, worked, and she was not going to question whether or not it could become anything more.
‘Champagne,’ she announced. ‘You know I’m dreadful at opening these bottles, darling. Would you do the honours?’
Antoine strode forward and took the bottle, expertly popping the cork on the Veuve Clicquot and pouring them each half a glass as they stood in the warm night air, a light breeze lifting the fine hairs on Evelina’s arms.
‘To our love nest on the Seine,’ he said.
‘To our love nest,’ she repeated, touching her glass to his before taking a long, slow sip. ‘I love it, truly I do. It’s perfect for me. For us.’
Antoine held her gaze as he sipped, before checking his wristwatch and insisting that they leave before it was too late. She told him she needed five minutes to powder her nose and collect her coat, and she hurried into the bedroom, knowing that he’d had her things sent over earlier in the day. She found all her clothes hanging, colour-coordinated, in the wardrobe, and when she walked into the bathroom she was greeted by the lingering scent of her favourite perfume—Chanel No. 5. She liked to think of it as a reminder of what she wanted to achieve one day, soshe often sprayed her bedroom and bathroom with it, especially now that she was with Antoine. He loved the scent, too, and had a bottle sent to her every month to make sure she never ran out. What he didn’t know was that it was her dream to create her own perfume one day, to have women wearing not only her dresses but also her fragrance, too. For now, she was simply grateful that he’d remembered what she liked.
Evelina checked her reflection in the mirror, locating her red lipstick and applying it liberally after powdering her nose, spraying some more perfume to her decolletage, and then doing a little turn to ensure her black dress was hugging her curves in the way she intended. The sensual shapes of her designs were her trademark, and she’d taken to using zippers as much for decorative purposes as practical ones. Some of her jersey fabrics and silk velvets appeared incredibly sensual, given how soft they were to the touch. And she was wearing one of those dresses tonight. Her intention was for women to look and feel fabulous in her designs, suggestive in a way that wasn’t overt; immaculate in a way that it was impossible not to notice.
Confident in her reflection, Evelina found her most luxurious fur coat and took it from the clothes hanger, draping it over her shoulders and heading back out to the living room to where Antoine was waiting for her.
He was smoking a cigarette, but the moment she walked back out he discarded it and came towards her, holding out both hands. She had to admit that he looked incredible in his dark suit, his tie perfectly knotted and cufflinks glinting at his wrists.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said, as his eyes travelled the length of her body. ‘Ravenously beautiful, in fact. I’ll be beating all the other men away with a stick tonight.’
Evelina laughed. She’d never felt quite so attractive as she did when she was with Antoine, and he didn’t just use words either. The way he looked at her, the way his eyes followed herand traced her body when he thought she wasn’t looking; it all combined to make her feel like the most desirable woman in the room.
‘Enough with your flattery,’ she said, waving him away. ‘Didn’t you say that we’d be late for dinner if we didn’t leave now?’
‘Evelina,’ he began.
‘Yes?’
