The release is better than an orgasm. Matthew’s face is ruddy and glowing. He pulls me to him, cups both of my cheeks in his, and presses his lips to mine, pushing open my mouth hungrily with his tongue. I grip the back of his head, asking for more. It’s like we’re back in the museum, like we’re just starting out, back at the place before Stella disappeared from his world and before I marked him as prey. I want him for all the wrong reasons. But eventually I pull back, breathless.
“Where do we go now?” I smile shyly up at him.
“Wherever we want.” He entwines his fingers with mine and whispers in my ear. “Could I make a request of you that might seem terribly forward?”
I try very hard not to giggle at his formality. “Please, do.”
“Would you accompany me to my family’s holiday gathering next week? It’s outside of the city, in the country. White tie. It is always a wonderful party, and I think you would enjoy it.”
The invite I’ve been waiting for in order to get into Stella’s safe. I pretend to be coy.
“I don’t know. Meeting your family?”
“Oh, it isn’t like that.” His cheeks go rosy in an adorable way. “It’s…I like you. I do. But I always bring a friend with me.Sometimes more than a friend, but often mates from school or work. It won’t be strange.”
I’m smiling now. He knows the answer is yes. “What should I wear?”
“I could take you shopping,” he says tentatively. “If you don’t have the proper kind of dress.”
Part of me relishes the idea of his taking me on an excursion through Paris’s most expensive boutiques, à la Richard Gere and Julia Roberts inPretty Woman. But I don’t want to be more indebted to him.
“I have something I can wear.”
“I’m sure.” He stammers a little. “I didn’t mean to presume you didn’t. You will come?”
“I will. But only if we can take the elevator down from here. I’m freezing. And maybe we can have a hot wine or something up at the bar on the top platform first. My fingers might fall off and then how would you explain bringing the sad fingerless girl to your father’s holiday party?”
“I’ll tell him it was an equal opportunity invitation,” he spars. “Even fingerless girls deserve to go to parties. But yes. Hot wine, warm elevator. Do you want to see if I can get us a table at the Jules Verne on the second floor?”
I remember Lucie and her bomb expert, what they did on the table in the private dining room. “I’ll pass. I’m not that hungry.”
For a moment I turn back to the city and pull in a breath so deep it strains my belly. I release one final earsplitting scream that contains all my terror, joy, hysteria, and trepidation.
Matthew is laughing at me as he opens the door to the public platform with his top secret key. “What was that for?”
“Forme.”
26
Claire
I meet mydaughter for the first time at a hotel in Méru, an hour’s train from Auvers, and a place where we won’t encounter anyone she knows. The secrecy was requested by her aunt.
Room seven. End of the hall. My corset feels like a vise, and I can barely draw a breath. It’s been nearly sixteen years since I’d given my baby away, when I was hardly more than a child myself.
The door swings open before I can knock. A young woman stands before me, tall and slim, with auburn hair and blue-gray eyes. She has my full lips, my slightly crooked nose.
“Mademoiselle Donadieu?” she asks, her voice steady and clear.
“Yes,” I whisper, memorizing every detail of her face in case I never see her again. “You can call me Claire if you like.”
“Claire.” She rolls the unfamiliar name off her tongue, like she is testing it out. She opens the door wider to reveal a small but neat room.
“Did you spend the night here last night?”
“I did,” she says proudly. “It was my first night on my own.” She blushes. “I quite enjoyed it.”
“There is something special about being on your own for the very first time,” I say. “I was raised in an orphanage and shared a bed with another girl until I was nine. The first time I slept alone felt like heaven.”
