Guillaume, Her French Husband

“Someone special,” she echoed. “And that just happens to be me?” she asked and he nodded.

“Do you doubt yourself?” he asked and she nodded.

“Well…I’m not sure how to take the whole situation.”

“Can I tell you something?” he started as he led her to the table. She turned to look at him and bit her lower lip when she looked into his eyes. “I have not had someone to deserve the honor of being called special to me. Not for a long time.”

She smiled and looked at him as she pulled a chair out for her.

“I hope you like duck,” he said as he walked back to the kitchen. She looked at him and waited for him to open the oven. “I made duck confit.”

“Why do I have such a hard time believing that you are a good cook?” she asked and he looked at her as he made his way back to the table holding two plates.

“You can always come back and I will make the food with you watching.” He put a plate in front of her and then walked back to his side of the table. “Duck confit, roasted butternut squash and mushroom ragout,” he announced.

“Sounds delightful,” she said.

As they ate, Lara found out more and more about Guillaume. More than she had ever anticipated on knowing. It was like he had opened himself up to her, for her to read him. By the time they finally shared dessert – a slice of pumpkin torte – they were in the villa media room. And they had just watched the film he had sworn to show her that was based on his life. But even after watching it, she was still not answered. She had so many questions.

Thousands.

Perhaps even a million questions.

She looked at him as the credits rolled up.

“That…that was how you remember your childhood?” she asked and he nodded.

“Parts of it at least,” he said. “Some of the segments are pulled out of the accounts of the Bosnian genocide survivors.”

She turned to look at him, still a little confused.

“But you are French,” she said in a soft voice and he nodded.

“Yes. I am French but I almost died,” he started explaining. “My mother was a Bosniak, a Bosnian Muslim and she didn’t choose to be born one. But that was what the situation was. So when ethnic cleansing began….they started with the boys and men. Stripped them of everything, their clothes, their identities, their humanity…and they killed them. My mother hid me and we began fleeing before the soldiers could get to our village….” His voice trailed off. “My father was one of the first people to die in the massacre in Srebrenica. And my mother…if it were not for a French soldier who was in Bosnia at the time, she would have died too. Or worse.”

Lara shook her head.

“What could be worse than death?” she asked.

“She could have been a s*x slave for the soldiers,” he said in a soft voice.

“So how did you get out of Bosnia?” Lara asked.

“The French soldier…the man whose name I took, smuggled us out to France and when we got here he fell in love with my mother.” He took a bite of his dessert and looked at her. “Like I said before, my past is why I focus on romance. It is a better world when people make love and not war.”

She shook her head.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, smiling. “I have been thinking of making more films like this. Exploring a side of history that people would rather ignore.”

She shrugged.

“I guess it is better to face your past than run from it,” she said in a soft voice.

“I think so too,” he said in a whisper. He leaned in and her heart skipped a beat. She knew exactly why he was leaning in. And she wanted him to get even closer. She wanted to taste his lips. She wanted to feel his hands, his lips on her. Every part of her. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered as he slipped a hand behind her neck and pulled her close.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a low voice.

“I am showing you how much I want you,” he said.

“You want me?” she asked and he smiled.

“I have wanted you ever since that first time I saw you during your audition,” he whispered. “That first day in that room in that perfect fitting outfit and those sexy heels. I knew almost immediately that I wanted you.”

She was struggling against herself, trying to pull away but for some reason what she wanted and what her body was doing were in contrast. She closed her eyes as he got closer and closer to her before she felt the warmth of his lips on her. His kiss was soft and sensuous, and even though it was short, his tongue had already made its way into her mouth. And before she knew it, she was holding the back of his head, reciprocating in the same passion. By the time he pulled away, she was panting into his mouth. He leaned his forehead on hers.

“We’re working together,” she said in a soft voice. “This is going to be hard on both of us if we keep this up.”

“What we do on set…that is purely business. But this, you and I, it is more than pleasure,” he said in a soft voice. “I know it and you know it.” He gently placed his hand on her bare thigh and she let out a light whimper. She wanted to go on. She wanted to let him have her but something inside her told her that it was probably not a good idea. She put her dessert down and stood up.

“I should probably go and get some rest,” she said as she looked at him.

Guillaume nodded.

“I’ll walk you out,” he said in a soft voice.

He was quiet as he escorted her down the gigantic hallways of the villa to the front door. But once they were there, he slipped an arm around her waist and held her against his body before he kissed her again.

“See you tomorrow, Cherie,” he whispered when he pulled away and she nodded, unsure of what else she was supposed to do.

*****

Guillaume

Over the next few days, working was getting to be increasingly hard. Guillaume wanted nothing more than to walk into Lara’s trailer and just take her. But the worst was yet to come. He was not only dealing with the fact that his next project stars had been leaked to the tabloids but also the fact that he had to watch the love scenes of his two stars. And as time went by, it only got harder to see them together. To see them kiss. To see them in each other’s arms. Even though he knew that it was all an act, the fact that he had to see another man’s hands all over his woman was enough to drive him up the wall. And it was probably because of his jealousy that they were yet to finish the love scenes. He had just yelled cut for the fourth time that day and he could see in Lara’s eyes that there was more than just a little rage in them.

He looked at her as she walked off the set and he sighed loudly.

“Everybody take five…or thirty.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “However long it takes for me to come back.”

He got off the director’s chair and walked out to Lara’s trailer. He took a long deep breath and softly knocked on the door.

“Lara, it’s me,” he said in a soft voice. He waited for her to welcome him but there was only silence from inside the trailer. “Lara?” he asked as he knocked again before he opened the door. He stepped in and found her seated in front of her dressing mirror.

“I knocked,” he said and she nodded.