She tilted her head back to give him better access and sighed. ‘No. Nothing better. This is perfect.’
* * *
A fortnight came and went. It didn’t even cross Cara’s mind to leave.
Now that she was no longer a prisoner, life in general improved considerably. She could come and go as she pleased. She spent hours wandering around Paris’s famous museums and galleries, including three days back-to-back at the Louvre, and spent many a happy lunch doing nothing but hanging out in Parisian cafés drinking hot chocolate.
Her personal belongings, including all her beloved art and history books, had finally been shipped over from Dublin and she had a marvellous time going through all her stuff. Most of it was put back in the boxes—she reminded herself on a daily basis that this was only a temporary arrangement and that it would not do to start thinking of it as permanent.
All the same, life with Pepe was good. More than good. Now that they had reached an understanding, all the antagonism had died. She knew that whatever happened between them, their child would not suffer for it.
He treated her like a princess. They’d gone for her twenty-week scan together, and to witness the adoration on his face was almost as thrilling as seeing her baby for herself. The money he’d put into her account—an amount that, if she were a cartoon character, would have made her eyes pop out of her head—had been happily spent that morning on baby furniture and other paraphernalia, with more than a little change left over. It was all now being stored in Pepe’s humongous garage alongside his fleet of sports cars.
And now, back at the house, they were having a swim together in Pepe’s underground luxury pool. Or, rather, she was lazing in the shallow end watching him swim lengths. He sped through the water like a porpoise, his strokes long and practised. There was something rather hypnotic about watching him, she mused. Who needed a book when one could watch Pepe?
After she’d counted him do approximately fifty lengths, he waded over to her, a large grin on his face. ‘You should swim, lazybones.’
‘I was admiring the view.’
His grin broadened and he swooped in for a kiss.
‘Hmm,’ she sighed, greedily kissing him back. It never ceased to amaze her how much Pepe wanted her. Or how much she wanted him. Already she could feel the stir of an erection in his swimming shorts, rubbing against her thigh.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said as he nuzzled into her neck, ‘that I should really look at getting a driver’s licence for when the baby’s born.’
He stilled a touch. ‘I can provide you with a car and a driver.’
‘I’m sure you can,’ she agreed drily. ‘But it would be nice to have the freedom to just...go, when the mood takes me.’
She had to think practically. She just had to. Thinking in detail about her and their baby’s future kept her silly emotions in check. And if ever her stomach rolled at the thought of their future being without Pepe, she quashed it. After all, Pepe would always be an enormous part of their lives; they’d just be living under different roofs.
For the time being, things between them were magical, but she would not allow herself to think it could last for ever. Pepe didn’t do for ever.
‘Have you thought about where you’ll want to live with the baby?’ he asked, reading her mind.
‘I was thinking maybe here in Paris,’ she admitted. In the month they’d been together she’d travelled with him to his homes in Portugal and Spain. Of all the places Pepe called home, Paris was her favourite. There was something so wonderful about the city, the bustle, the chic women, the architecture, the art. Wandering the streets always evoked a feeling of contentment that was only surpassed at night when she would lie sated, wrapped in his arms, drifting off to sleep.