Winnie stopped for a moment on the Alexander III Bridge, near Les Invalides, and stared out at the Seine. Leaning against the stone railing, she enjoyed the beautiful Parisian landscape with its historical buildings along each side of the river. Some of the most famous painters had captured over the years the beauty of Paris from this vantage point. She felt blessed to live and breathe Paris. Feeling the snowflakes on her cheeks, she smiled and adjusted her coat collar and her wide-brimmed felt hat. She closed her eyes, feeling finally at peace despite the war and her loveless life.
“Pardon mademoiselle,” a man’s voice spoke behind her.
She turned around and looked up at the man standing beside her, “Oui?” He stood in front of her, wearing his dress uniform under a thick wool jacket with his matching cap. A breath caught in her throat. “Henry,” she said, realizing she had called him by his given name.
He smiled, looking in her eyes with his intense blue gaze. “How are you?” he asked.
“I’m well and yourself, Sergeant Whitfield?” She spoke, feeling her mouth grow dry.
He nodded, wiping away a rain drop sliding on his clean shaven cheek. “Hanging in,” he replied with a sad tone.
She touched his arm, feeling the strength of his body through his thick olive brown wool jacket. Looking into his blue depths, she saw his courage. “I’m glad you’re alright.” She wanted to take him in her arms and hold him.
He smiled and cleared his voice, “Would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me, Miss Douglas?”
She giggled. “You can call me, Winnie.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a shy smile.
For a quick moment, she stared at the dimple on his left cheek. She saw him only once, but somehow remembered every detail of his face. She touched his arm again. “It’s okay, Sergeant Whitfield.” She smiled and bit her lower lip, his dark blue eyes staring into her soul. She pulled back her hand when she realized it had stayed on his arm.
“You can call me Henry, please,” he said in a low voice, sending waves of warm sensations throughout her whole body. He offered his arm and she crooked hers around his well-toned bicep, and let him guide the way.
As they passed the grounds of the Invalides, the cold rain drops fell on them like a gentle caress. The cool air sent goose bumps along her neck and back. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, amazed that he actually walked beside her. He was much taller and his eyes bluer than she remembered. His thick coat showed off his broad shoulders, his warrior shoulders. At once, she felt so conscious of her own body. Was she walking too slow or too fast? Did he think her too short?
Winnie glanced at the rain drizzling on the stone sidewalk under her ankle boots. Again, she glanced at him. This time, their eyes met and she gave him a smile. She bit her lower lip and adjusted her wide-brimmed hat with a trembling hand.
He smiled and stopped. “Sorry, I’m not very good company.” He took her hand in his large one and added, “Forgive me.”
She nodded. “No explanation needed, sergeant.”
“Call me Henry, please,” he said with a smile. Again, his deep voice rumbled through her whole body.
She looked into his eyes. “Henry,” she repeated, uneasy at speaking his given name. A rush of warmth shot through her body again. She looked away. He raised her chin with his fingertip. In his bright blue eyes, she saw kindness and honesty.
As they sat in a small and quiet café, Winnie found him very quiet again. Dark circles surrounded his eyes. And she found his face so pale. Her heart sank in her chest. “Is everything okay?” She liked saying his name. Had he lost a close friend, or worse? She disliked seeing him so sad. He nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. But, she knew he hid the truth. She didn’t push him into talking about the terrible things he had experienced on the front. “What are you doing in Paris?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I lost my way,” he chuckled. “It’s only my second visit to Paris and I wanted to enjoy my short time away from the war before the battles resume for us.”
She knew how it felt getting lost in Paris and remembered the time she had lost her way back towards the apartment. It took an hour or so until she found her way. She felt embarrassed and had made certain never to repeat the traumatic experience again. “How long are you on leave?”
“I’m returning tomorrow morning,” he replied, trying to smile.
But, she sensed something was bothering him. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”
Henry gave her a smile as he could feel her honesty. Since seeing her again, his heart thudded in his chest. “Thank you.”
She smiled and he felt his whole body awaken once more. He wished they were alone in the restaurant.
People filled the quaint little restaurant near Hôtel Britannique, where he stayed for the night. He glanced at her over his coffee cup and found her so beautiful in her simple white cotton blouse and ankle-length burgundy skirt. And she did her hair up in the last wavy style. She took his breath away. His desire to see her again had come true.
After seeing her on the front, he thought of her day and night. Now, he sat so close to her. He took a silent deep breath and inhaled her lavender perfume.
Deep inside, he longed to stay with her. Indeed, returning in the morning to the cold and dirty trench no longer held any significance as he spent each passing moment with her. Just another day or so that’s all he wanted. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew a mental picture of her.
“Are you alright?” he heard her sweet voice asking.
Opening his eyes, he saw her small hand on his forearm. He hoped she didn’t feel his trembling arm. He felt so nervous inside. And he ignored the cause. He stared into her eyes and nodded, reassuring her that she had done nothing wrong. “I’m happy to see you again,” he said, twirling his empty coffee cup between his thumb and forefinger.
“I’m happy to see you and in good health,” she smiled reassuringly.
Her emerald eyes sparkled in the light of day. He’d give anything just for the chance to touch her and hold her. She’d think him a fool if he dared caress her soft skin. They knew nothing about each other despite the feeling deep inside telling him she resembled so much the woman in his dreams. He’d frighten her for certain if he told her he dreamed of her every night. His secret would stay inside, hidden.
For now, he would cherish this moment with her in his mind. “Come walk with me,” he urged, offering his hand.
Her eyes locked with his. She nodded and took his hand.
Henry walked with Winnie at his side. No one else in the world existed at this moment. He couldn’t believe how fortune smiled upon him. Finding her in Paris was pure coincidence. Or was it? He always thought everything happened for a reason, that it was destiny.
She glanced at him, and again he felt butterflies in his stomach. How could she make him forget all the horrors he had seen in the last few days?
“Are you cold?” he asked, feeling her arm tremble under his.
She shook her head.
Inside, her heart drummed. Their eyes met as they walked in silence along the Seine in the late afternoon sky. Rain drizzled on them. Winnie trembled all over. She gazed at Henry and saw him smile at her. “Is there something on my cheek?” she asked, wiping her face with the tip of her finger.
He shook his head and smiled. “I don’t mean to stare.” His eyes looked into hers with such intensity.
His hands touched her trembling shoulders. He lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger, and stared into her eyes. She studied his handsome face, painting a mental picture of his full lips, his deep blue eyes, his straight nose, the deep dimple on his left cheek when he smiled. And when he smiled she felt as though no one else existed. Why didn’t they meet somewhere else and at some other time?
Taking her small hand in his larger one, he removed her glove and brought her hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss in her palm. The contact of his warm lips and his breath sent a wave of wonderful yet unknown sensations throughout her body. She bit her lower lip and looked away before losing herself in his eyes.
“Have I done anything wrong?” he asked, releasing her hand.
She shook her head. How could she have missed him so much when she hardly knew him? Henry had treated her with respect since the moment they met, a true gentleman. Even now, as they stood in the middle of a park, he treated her with the upmost respect. Not once had he made her feel uneasy or unwanted.
He smiled. “It’s such a beautiful evening,” he said, offering his arm.
Taking his arm, she felt his strength, but he covered her hand with gentleness. New sensations rushed throughout her body. She gazed into his eyes and saw the kindness and honesty. Yet, she guarded her heart. She couldn’t give it to someone she hardly knew. But, the more time she spent with him, the more she felt she’d known him all her life.
They had so much in common, from books to food and dreams of having a family one day. He even made her laugh the whole time they walked. Indeed, she felt comfortable with him. The feeling unsettled her a bit as they walked close. Again, she found herself comparing him with James. Yet, with Henry she found herself smiling and giggling all the time.
As they shared an umbrella, shielding them against the cool raindrops, he talked of the battles he fought and the friends he had lost on the front since the war started. She saw the sadness in his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said, touching his arm. “I can only imagine how it is on the battlefield.” She didn’t say another word; the horror he lived and saw every day broke her heart.
He gave her a reassuring smile. But she felt his pain and sadness.
The rain stopped. Winnie felt the cold against her cheeks. Yet, inside, warmth filled her heart. She felt the heat of his body radiate and warm her. She enjoyed having Henry with her now. She crooked her arm around his and held on a little more.
For the first time in her life, she didn’t ask any questions nor worry about tomorrow.
They reached the park near the Eiffel Tower and sat on a bench while he told her about the men in his company, and spoke of their bravery. “We call ourselves Bell’s Bulldogs,” he chuckled. “These men are the finest soldiers in the whole battalion. No, the whole infantry.” He spoke about his fellow soldiers with such pride. She saw in his sparkling eyes how much he cared for his fellow soldiers. He also talked of his hometown of Calgary. “Alberta is a beautiful province, mountains and lakes, and nice people.”
She pictured the Rockies with the snow-covered peaks. “Sounds like heaven.”
“Close enough,” he said. Henry took her hand in his. He didn’t say another word, but she understood what precious peace and quiet it brought to him. She gave his strong lean fingers a light squeeze, hoping he knew how much she cared for him.
As they reached the front door of her apartment just after midnight, he took her hand and brought her fingers against his lips once more. His eyes met hers and he held her hands between his. Bringing her closer, he helped her overcome the chill.
A breath caught in her throat and her heart raced in her chest. She stared at his full lips and wondered what would happen if his tempting mouth kissed her. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, calming her racing heart.
He bowed his head and leaned it against hers. “Thank you for spending time with me tonight.” His low voice sent a new wave of warmth through her.
She bit her lower lip and held her breath while her heartbeat drummed in her ears. With the tip of his thumb, he caressed her lips. Their eyes locked while his warm hand gently cupped her cheek. In a brisk yet gentle gesture, his lips took hers. She trembled under his touch, her hands on his chest, unmoving. His mouth tasted hers as his arms lowered around her, holding her tight against him. She found herself kissing him with such fervour, her head spun with desire. Her arms surrounded his neck as she tilted her head, deepening his kiss. A low moan left her mouth as his lips traced her chin and jaw.
“Winnie,” his hot breath whispered against her ear. He held her for a long moment.
She leaned her head against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through his thick jacket as rain drops fell around them. She closed her eyes, and prayed for Henry’s safety and the chance to see him again soon. “Please be careful,” she whispered. “And if you can, please write me.”
“I promise,” he said, holding her even closer. “Take care,” he whispered against her ear before taking her lips hostage once more.
She watched him walk away, breathless and wanting more of his kisses. She believed he’d keep his promise. She removed her glove and touched her swollen and hot lips. And she smiled. Twirling under the rain, she giggled, feeling happy and alive.
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