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“It’s alright, baby, we don’t have to do this,” he said, making my heart squeeze that he had put my feelings first.
A burst of courage shot through me. “No. You’re right, I can do this. A fear of heights is one I never knew I had. The rational side of me says I mustn’t let it beat me.”
I half expected Jamie to check again with me, but he immediately tugged my hand and began climbing the stairs. I followed, swallowing hard, sweating a little because words were easy, facing the view that had already made me feel like my brain was loose in my head was something else.
“There you go,” he said, turning me away from the view and holding his camera up to catch a selfie or ten with me. He pulled his scarf and his hood down, and I did the same. Paris still glittered majestically behind us in his camera view when a distinctive American voice called out.
“Fancy seeing you here,” a deep male voice bellowed out.
Jamie’s body stiffened. He dropped his hand to his side, his other immediately leaving his hold on me. Quickly, he flicked up his hood and pulled his scarf back over his face.
Thankfully, the viewing point had been full of tourists; mainly foreign, so the caller hadn’t garnered us much attention, but the huge towering figure stood inches from Jamie with a wide satisfied grin.
My heart raced when my eyes searched the crowds and when they darted to Jamie, I saw he was holding his breath until the man reached past him and scooped me up in a hug.
“If it isn’t Daisy O’Donnell. Darn, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said.
Jamie blinked slowly, gave me a wide-eyed look and fumbled to slip his phone in his pocket.
“Oran Flaherty, Jesus, man, you almost gave me a heart attack. Don’t tell me you’ve got a tribe of Frenchmen as well,” I replied, matching his grin.
“Nah, brought my better half to romance land as a bit of a sweetener before I desert her next month. Can’t wait for a taste of freedom and my old stomping ground of the old country again.”
I chuckled at his response and realized Oran’s arms were still draped around me. The surprise of seeing him had completely thrown me. I stepped back and glanced toward Jamie.
“Jamie Fontaine,” Jamie said, holding out a gloved hand and meeting the six feet seven mountain man’s gaze.
“Is this your man?” Oran asked, slapping his hand eagerly into Jamie’s and shaking it firmly.
“It is,” I replied with a grin.
“And there I was thinking you were saving yourself for me. If I hadn’t already had a ball and chain attached to my ankle when I met wee Daisy, I’d have given this one here my heart,” Oran teased.
“Lucky for me you didn’t,” Jamie said in a gruff, sarcastic voice from behind his scarf.
“Jamie, this is Oran Flaherty, he’s a friend of my family. He lives in Boston, but his Auntie Helena is a good friend of my da’s auntie, Moira. His parents moved to Boston when he was three, hence the American accent.”
“Nice to meet you, Oran,” Jamie replied sounding less tense.
“Where is Alison?” I asked, glancing past him and noting he appeared to be up the Eiffel Tower by himself.
“Scared of heights, so I figured if I came up here, I’d get time for myself.”
“Very romantic,” both Jamie and I replied in unison and laughed that we’d had the same thought.
“Nah, we’re here as a foursome with our friends, Michael and Donna. Donna and Alison have hit the shops. Ali’s really frightened of heights, and as Donna seemed far more interested in sightseeing with her Mastercard, Micky and I took this chance to come up here.”
“Sounds like you’ve got this marriage compromise thing worked out,” Jamie replied.
“Yeah, most of the time, although I’ve got to pretend to like this rock band, Dysentery or something she’s got tickets to see tomorrow night. But I’ll grin and bear it, to make her happy, even if I’d rather have been going to the Moulin Rouge.”
Before I burst out laughing, I slid my gloved hand into Jamie’s, and it was clear from Oran’s opinion he had no idea who Jamie was.
“Right, well it’s freezing, and we’ve still got to eat,” I said quickly. We’ll see you next month for the celebration of Saint Patrick’s Day?” I queried with a brow raised.
“Absolutely. It was fun in Boston last year when I’d no choice, but this year is different.”
“How is the baby?” I asked, suddenly remembering his wife had given birth since I’d last seen him.
