Accidentally, In love ( UNDER EDITING )

Chapter 22 : Of First Dates

Chapter 22 :  Of First Dates

Zoya’s P.O.V

“Arnaud is this necessary?” I ask him while he searches his jean pockets frantically.

“Absolutely.” He affirms without looking at me.

“ But can’t you just take me without it?” I try again, waving my hands to catch his attention but all in vain.

“No. It won’t be as good then. I want you to be surprised when you see it.” He says still searching his coat pocket.

“Arnaud you know how I feel about it?” I tell him softly, hoping he will understand.

“Don’t worry Zoya, I will do nothing to hurt you. Voila. Here it is. Enfin je l’ai trouvé” He exclaims retrieving a blue cotton handkerchief, neatly folded from the inside pocket of his court.

He pulls me into his arms and gently brushes my lips with his. He turns me around and slowly blindfolds me, pausing to ask if it’s too tight or loose.

“Zoya how many fingers have I held up?” He asks.

“Arnaud, seriously? I can’t see a thing.” It was true. Even if  I tried to sneak a peek, all I saw was  light and nothing more.

“OK I believe you.” He whispers in my ear sending tingles all over my spine.

He places my hand in his and his other hand on my waist, gently guiding me  onward. We walk for around five minutes, the wind tenderly caressing my face and blowing my ponytail in all sides. Arnaud keeps a firm hold over me but is gentle and caring at the same time.

Ever since our first kiss at the Eiffel Tower we have been exploring this new aspect of our relationship slowly. I’m really excited to see what Arnaud has in mind for me because he has given me absolutely no inclination of where we are going or what to expect.

“We are here.” Arnaud says and slowly tugs the handkerchief away from my eyes.

Initially the light blinds me for a minute or two but slowly things start getting into focus and I’m stunned.

Literally spellbound.

I’m standing in front of a castle.

No.

I’m not kidding.

It’s enormous and is spread over a vast expanse of land. A student of architecture would have a field day here exploring this magnificent example of medieval architecture. The towering columns and pillars make me feel very small in comparison.

Suddenly the heavy wooden doors open and a person who I presume is the butler walks out. He is tall, with a roundish face and glasses perched on his pointy nose. He is dressed impeccably in a costume that reminds me eerily of Jeeves from the Wodehouse novels that I’m so fond of reading.

‘Bonjour Monsieur Arnaud et Madame, bienvenue à Anjou’ He nods and heads to the car to take our luggage.

“Arnaud what are we doing outside a castle and why does the butler know your name?” I ask him absolutely perplexed with this new turn of events.

“Mon amour, welcome to Anjou. This castle belongs to grand parents. This place holds a lot of memories of my childhood and I hope to enrich these memories by adding my time here with you to them.” He says twirling his finger in one of the tendrils that always manages to come out loose.

“I’m flattered Arnaud but I thought you spent your time in Saint Étienne?” I say leaning into his hand.