Rearrange Me

XXII

Eleanora

"And what of you?" Philippe asks, slowly stalking toward me.

"What of me?" I ask as he climbs onto the bed.

"Do you adore me?" Philippe is holding himself up atop of me. The look in his eyes is nothing but hunger.

"More so than I can imagine, I reckon."

He smiles. And I smile. Because his smile is so beautiful, it lights up a room.

He leans down and presses his soft lips to my own. Then he pulls away and I frown. "Come with me, darling."

"But I was told not to-"

"And since when do you follow orders?" He raises his dark eyebrow.

I smile again. "It is a bit different when I am ill."

"Lies." He says, taking hold of my hands and pulling me up. "You hate lying in bed all day."

"I am too bored," I admit as my feet touch the floor. "There is nothing to do."

"You could read."

"I have."

Philippe slides his fingers in between mine. "Not the right books then. You seem to enjoy reading whilst in the library, or the sitting room, or even outside."

"That is because they are not my bedchamber." I point out as we walk into the hallway. "If my mother knew I was walking around barefoot she would have my head."

"Well, your mother is not present at the time."

We stop in front of a pair of familiar doors. "What ever are we doing?" I giggle. He pushes the door open and tugs me inside of the Hall of Mirrors. "I have never seen it without people."

"Oh, we cannot allow that." He shuts the door and locks it, sliding the key out and hanging it on the handle. Then he clicks his tongue. "No, mon amour. The Hall of Mirrors is monumental."

"I do wonder why." I chortle, staring up at the ceiling.

A large, warm hand cups my neck and I tilt my head down until I'm looking at Philippe again. "I adore you also." Philippe backs away from me with open arms. "Can you imagine having this all to yourself?"

"Is that not what we have?"

"That is particularly my point, darling." He grins. "What a shame is is only used for masquerades."

"What else shall it be used for?"

Philippe takes a few steps forward until he's inches away from me again. "I have an idea." He places his palm against my back and tugs me firmly to him. "But you have to dance with me first."

"For a person who claims to loathe dancing, you do wish to partake in the act with me often."

"You recurve special rules, darling."

My nose scrunches as I take his hand in mine. "And why is that?"

"C'est parce que je t'aime, chérie."

I smile. "Je supposer que je t'aime, aussi."

"Votre français est extraordinaire." Philippe says as we twirl around the ballroom slowly.

"It was a mandatory language to learn when I was but six." I chuckle. "I would like to hope it is."

"Ce n'est pas parce que vous devez apprendre quelque chose que vous serez bon à."

"Oui, mais je ne me suis pas permis d'échouer à quoi que ce soit." I raise my shoulders in a shrug as a sheepish smile spreads across my lips.

Philippe comes to a halt, as do I. He presses his lips to mine and I slightly stumble backward at the force of his kiss.