Free The Lavender Garden by Lucinda Riley Page B

to spend lots more time with you if you’d let me.” He pushed her shoulders away from him and tipped her chin up so she was looking directly at him. “Emilie, I know this is all happening very fast, and you’re scared and frightened, so the last thing I want to do is to push you. And I won’t, I promise. But I must admit that, just at this moment, I’d like to kiss you.”
    Emilie looked at him and gave a small smile. “Kiss me ?”
    “Yes. Is that so shocking?” Sebastian mocked her gently. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to pounce on you. I just wanted to be honest.”
    “Thank you.” Emilie stared at him and came to her own decision. She reached her head forward and tentatively touched his lips with her own. “Thank you, Sebastian, for everything. You’ve been so kind, I . . .”
    He took her face in his hands and kissed her back, then broke away suddenly, checking himself. “Look,” he said, taking her fingers and entwining them with his, “please tell me if you’re comfortable with this. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you in any way. You’re confused, I’m sure you can’t possibly know how you feel just now, and—”
    “Sebastian, it’s okay.” It was Emilie’s turn to comfort him. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m a big girl, as you said. So, please, don’t worry.”
    “Well then, I won’t,” he replied softly.
    As Sebastian drew her back into his arms, Emilie felt the pain being slowly washed away by his tenderness. And surrendered to it.

6
    Paris
    January 1999—Nine Months Later
    E milie sat at the back of the auction room watching the gaggle of effortlessly chic Parisian women raising delicately manicured hands to bid for an exquisite canary-diamond necklace and matching earrings. She glanced down at the catalog on which she’d scribbled figures in the margin and realized that, by her reckoning, the sale had so far raised almost twelve million francs.
    Over the next few weeks, apart from a few paintings and choice pieces of furniture that she had decided to keep and eventually ship down to the château, the entire contents of the Paris house would be auctioned too. The house itself was already sold, and its new owners would be taking up residence shortly.
    She felt a slight pressure on her left hand and turned. “Are you okay?” Sebastian whispered.
    She nodded, grateful for his empathy as she watched her mother’s precious jewelry collection go under the hammer. The money raised would pay off a big chunk of the overdraft Valérie had accrued, leaving Emilie the funds from the sale of the Paris house to finally begin renovations on the château. And the Matisse had been authenticated, thanks to Sebastian’s help. He’d immediately found a private client for it and had proudly handed her a check for five million francs.
    “Such a shame Matisse didn’t sign the canvas. It would have been worth at least triple that amount,” he’d said, sighing.
    Emilie glanced sideways at Sebastian, who was watching with amused interest the feverish bidding for the necklace and earrings. She often found herself staring at him in wonder and amazement that he’d walked into her life and changed it so irrevocably.
    He had saved her. Everything was different now; she felt a little as though she’d woken up from a long and painful dream and stepped out into the sun. Reluctant in the first few weeks to believe in his feelings for her, frightened that at any minute he might disappear and leave her, his unwavering warmth had eventually broken down all her barriers. And now, nine months on, she was basking in his love, blossoming like a wilted flower suddenly given water. She no longer looked in the mirror and saw a reflection full of hopelessness; now she could see that her eyes sparkled and her skin glowed with a new luminescence . . . some days Emilie even thought she might be considered pretty.
    Not only that, but Sebastian had been wonderful in helping