Page 34 of Forgiving Paris
She was practically desperate for him to kiss her. And what did that say about her? Who had she become just days after landing in Paris? Her mouth was dry as she tried to focus on his explanation of the area.
In the twentieth district, Jean-Claude showed her the grave of Oscar Wilde. Her new friend put his hand alongside her face. “People often kiss this grave.” He looked puzzled. His thumb eased across her lower lip and his touch sent chills down her body. He came closer to her again. “That’s a waste of a kiss. Would you agree, mon amour?”
He was doing it again. Talking in code. She practically cried out for him to stop the pretense and kiss her. But she held her tongue. Instead she only let herself get lost in his eyes. “Yes, Jean-Claude. A complete waste of a kiss.”
In the fourteenth arrondissement, he took her to a private entrance of the famous catacombs. Ashley had read about the underground tunnels. In the late 1700s Paris had grown so much that the boundaries of the city cameup against the cemeteries once far removed from civilization. After a terrible rainstorm, the wall of Saints Innocents cemetery collapsed, spilling more than a million corpses into the streets of Paris.
Officials quickly decided on a solution. Sixty-five feet belowground, nearly two hundred miles of tunnels lay dormant, in what used to be limestone quarries. Over the next twelve years, every corpse was moved to the catacombs and stacked along the underground pathways.
They began their descent down a chilly set of stone stairs. “People say the catacombs smell of death.” Jean-Claude stopped and smiled at her. “I think it smells rather pleasant.”
A shiver ran down Ashley’s arms. Something sinister seemed to hide behind the man’s charm and debonair exterior. Ashley let it go. No point letting her imagination get away with her. He was still talking. Apparently, Jean-Claude knew much about the catacombs. “They keep the temperature fifty-seven degrees in your Fahrenheit. Through summer and winter.” He stared at her. “Bodies and bones do best at that temperature.”
A strange sensation came over Ashley. It was a feeling she didn’t like.
As they walked to the first tunnel, Jean-Claude stopped at a sign over the entrance.ARRÊTÉ! C’EST ICI L’EMPIRE DE LA MORT!
The words sounded like a love song coming from her new artist friend. Ashley found herself moving ever closer to him, drawn to his warmth. “What does it mean?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Stop! This is the empire of death.”
Her expression must’ve shown her concern, because a quiet chuckle came from him. “Do not be afraid, mon amour. This is Paris history. That is all.”
Of course,she told herself. And how lucky she was to have someone like Jean-Claude show her places like this. Deep in the catacombs the smell was a dusty mix of decaying remains and incense. Ashley tried not to think about it. They turned a corner and she gasped. Human bones were stacked on both sides of the narrow walkway, laid in the most meticulous fashion.
“The femur bone makes lovely art, yes, ma chérie?”
She had no idea what to say to that. And because she stayed quiet, Jean-Claude must’ve gotten the hint. Death did not enthrall Ashley like it did Jean-Claude. She looked back toward the entrance. “We should go.”
“Oui.” He smiled at her. They’d spent enough time in the catacombs. “Come, mon amour.”
He followed her up the stairs, and something about his nearness now made Ashley feel more than attraction. Like maybe she really was in danger.Ridiculous,she told herself.He’s in love with me. There’s no danger in that.
Except Jean-Claude was married. Or it seemed like he was. Ashley refused to think about it. He took her to the twelfth arrondissement next, to one of the most famous restaurants in Paris—Le Train Bleu in the Gare de Lyon train station. The walls were encased with gold trim, and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Countless exquisite paintings decorated the walls and ceilings.
From the moment she walked inside, Ashley felt like a child, gawking at every detail.
Jean-Claude touched her face, and his fingers were like velvet. “It is not as beautiful as you, Ashley.”
Her face grew hot under the desire in his eyes. People didn’t just waltz into Le Train Bleu, Ashley knew that much. Again, Jean-Claude had wielded his power to give her the most unforgettable experience.
They shared a dinner of arugula salad with pecans and wild yams, fresh-caught fish, root vegetables and organic herbs. When Jean-Claude ordered a bottle of champagne, Ashley did nothing to stop him. She could drink. She was old enough in Paris.
After dinner the sun was about to set. “I have more for you, ma belle.” He took her to an elevated walkway above the city. And at a spot so beautiful Ashley could only soak it in, Jean-Claude stopped and she did the same.
The champagne made her feel like she was floating, and with the most natural ease, Jean-Claude turned to her and leaned his back against the railing. Pinks and blues streaked across the sky and the fading sunlight shone in his piercing blue eyes. “Today… has been a dream, ma chérie.”
“Oui.” Everything about her past life disappeared. So what if he was married? She was with him now, and he wanted her. She could see that clearly here. He wanted her more than his next breath.
And she felt the same.Kiss me, Jean-Claude,she wanted to say. She ached for him, wanting him more thananything in all her life. They were inches apart, the smell of him leaving her defenseless.
“Ashley…?” It was the gentlest question. And though he didn’t say more than her name, she understood.
“Yes, Jean-Claude. Oui.” She felt herself drawn toward him, and before either of them could say another word, his hands were on her shoulders and in her hair. And in a moment of passion greater than Ashley had ever experienced, his lips were on hers.
She had no idea how long they stood there kissing, lost in the glow of the sunset and the haze of the champagne. Somehow they made their way back to his car, and then to his studio, and a hunger filled Ashley. An otherworldly hunger that felt dark and forbidden. But that didn’t stop her.
Nothing did.
