CHAPTER 246: CHAPTER 247 WRONG WORDS AT THE WORST TIME

‘What are you doing today?’ I asked over breakfast. ‘Playing tourist?’

‘I’m meeting some people later,’ Ashton said.

‘I didn’t know you knew anyone in Paris.’

Ashton looked over. ‘Aren’t you curious who I’m meeting?’

I guessed, ‘Business contacts?’

‘Sort of.’

‘Thought so.’

‘That’s it?’

‘Hm?’ I glanced up from my tablet, skimming through coverage of the latest jewellery show.

‘What if I just lied?’ His tone was mild, but something was brewing in his eyes. Not quite anger, but definitely not nothing.

‘Why would you lie?’

‘What if I was going to meet a woman? Remember Rowan Hale?’

‘You’re meeting Rowan Hale?’ My eyebrows shot up. ‘Didn’t know she was in Paris.’

‘I’m not. Just using her as an example. She made up that thing about us dating, remember? I showed up to a business dinner and she happened to be there. Stories like that aren’t rare. Aren’t you even a little worried I’ll be seduced by someone else?’

I smiled. ‘You’ve just explained why I’m NOT worried. You told me about Rowan the minute it happened. I was right there when she called you at night. You even put her on speaker.’ I leaned in and kissed his cheek. ‘I trust you.’

Same way Ashton trusted me when it came to Daniel Williams.

My mother, Caroline, had always been the jealous type. She’d kick off if she found a single long hair on Franklin’s suit or caught a whiff of unfamiliar perfume.

Not that it excused Franklin’s absentee parenting, but I could understand why he avoided home.

I promised myself I wouldn’t turn into her.

Ashton was unusually quiet on the drive to work.

He was never exactly chatty, but ever since we got engaged, he’d become clingier—longer calls, more texts, dropping by unexpectedly.

And now it was like he’d snapped back to his old, unreadable self.

I nudged his arm. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, eyes on the road—even though the only interesting thing outside was a half-covered sinkhole.

‘You seem... off.’

‘Do I.’

‘Yeah. Since breakfast. Is something bothering you?’

‘No.’

‘Trouble at work? I heard you talking to your VP earlier. Everything alright at Skyline?’

‘Fine.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously.’

‘I don’t buy it.’

‘Why not.’

I looked at him. ‘Because if everything was fine, you wouldn’t be talking in monosyllables.’

He gave me a sidelong glance. ‘What do you think is wrong?’

‘I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.’

‘Maybe think harder.’

Ah. So it WAS about me.

But what had I done?

‘Is this about the salt in your coffee? That was an accident. I was distracted. You’re not still annoyed about that, are you?’

He made a vague noise.

I would’ve pinched him if he wasn’t driving. ‘Was that a yes or a no? And don’t give me “hmm”. That’s not a proper word.’

He replied with: ‘Why were you distracted?’

‘Work. The autumn/winter launch is coming up fast, and we’re basically starting from zero. Fabrizio texted this morning. He’s taking me on a tour today. We’re going—’

‘You didn’t tell me you were going out with him,’ Ashton cut in.

‘Going on a tour,’ I repeated. ‘Don’t make it sound like a date. It’s for work.’

‘Didn’t know jewellery design required strolling round Paris,’ he said dryly.

‘It’s called getting inspiration. You think we just sit around and conjure up designs out of nowhere? We need ideas—shapes, textures, feelings. And since our theme this season is “L’Ombre de la Ville” – Shadow of the City – it makes sense to explore the corners most people overlook. Ivy on stone walls, wrought iron balconies, rain-slick cobblestones catching the light. That kind of thing.’

I could already picture it.

Who said work had to be dull?

‘I could’ve taken you myself,’ Ashton said.

‘I don’t want tourist traps. But we can go, just not today or tomorrow. How about the weekend? We’ll do the Eiffel Tower, a Seine cruise, whatever you like.’

‘But you’re still going out with Fabrizio today.’

‘Would it help if I told you we won’t be alone? He’s bringing two assistants. I’ll be mostly talking to Louis-François, our engraver. I need to check with him if champlevé enamel works with the materials I’ve got in mind. Then there’s Peter Carl. He’s our stone guy. We’re looking at peridot and black diamonds—’ I stopped. I’d been rambling. ‘Anyway, it’s work.’

Ashton slowed the car. ‘We’re here.’

When we stopped, I didn’t get out straight away. ‘So. Are we okay?’

He looked at me, then tapped his cheek with a finger.

I leaned over and gave him a loud, smacking kiss. ‘Better?’

He grunted.

I grinned. ‘You’re jealous. Admit it. But don’t be. Fabrizio’s not my type. Besides, remember Lover’s Span? We’ve still got locks hanging on that bridge, and the keys are gone. No one’s prising them off. My heart’s literally locked with yours.’

Okay, that last line was pure cheese. I nicked it from a film last week. Still, if it worked, it worked.

And it worked.

Ashton curled his finger. ‘Come here.’

I leaned in, and he cupped my face and kissed me. Properly. Deeply. Until I was out of breath and seeing stars.

He pulled back. ‘That was a proper kiss. Yours wasn’t.’

I had to fix my lipstick, but it was worth it.

Ashton being moody and childish was strangely adorable. No one else got to see that side of him but me.

I resisted the urge to ruffle his hair. ‘See you later.’

‘I checked. Fabrizio’s company finishes at seven. I’ll pick you up then.’

‘No need. We’ll be out in the city all day. I don’t know when I’ll be done, and we’ll probably end up having a work dinner.’

The moment I said it, I knew I’d messed up.