Read Online Love Redesigned by Sloane B. Collins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sloane B. Collins
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neither one wanted to do or say anything to disturb this truce.
A drop of water hit her cheek, and she looked just up as the clouds opened. Rain poured down on them, and they hurried to gather up the picnic. They dashed to his car and climbed in out of the rain. The drops hit the car so hard, it sounded as if gunfire had erupted.
“It looks like our drive will be cut short,” he said, shifting into gear. “Would you like to see my house? It is nearby, so we can dry off. Or I can take you back to the chateau, if you prefer.” He held his breath, hoping she would not want to return to the chateau.
“You bought a house here?”
“ Oui . I’ve moved back to France recently.”
“But don’t you live in Milan?”
“How did you know that?”
She hesitated.
“Genevieve?”
Waiting for an answer, he glanced at her.
She met his eyes, didn’t say anything.
He searched her face, waiting for an answer. Why does she hesitate? What is she hiding?
She blushed, her cheeks turning pink. “Oh, all right. I looked you up online before I bought my airline ticket.” She turned her head away, looked out the window.
“You looked for me online?”
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t in France.”
“Oh.” Her answer stung, and his heart sank.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you that to upset you.”
“I think we should talk. I want to know . . .” He slowed the car at the crossroads. “Will you come to my house so we can talk in private?”
Please. He held his breath, hoping she would agree.
“Yes, I can do that, and I’d like to see your house.”
Something relaxed in him, and he turned right at the intersection.
“It is not too far from my cousin.”
“What made you decide to move back here? And how come there’s been no mention of your move?”
“It was time,” he said, trying to put into words what he was afraid to admit out loud. “I missed my cousin, and my homeland. I’ve kept it quiet as much as possible because I didn’t want the press to find out and hound me. I want solitude here. It’s time for me to settle down.”
“Cut out the wild life you’ve been leading?” She laughed.
She may have laughed, but he heard the derision in her voice, and he flicked a glance at her. Why would she care?
She stared out the window. Her fingers clenched around the strap of her purse, and he wondered if she realized she was strangling it.
He reached out and touched her tightly closed fist. “Most of the gossip printed about me is not true.”
She snorted. “Riiight,” she drawled.
“I may have been wild a long time ago . . .” after you left me . “But I don’t want to be that man any longer.”
“Why the change of heart?”
“I’m getting older now. I do not want a wild reputation.” He pulled into the driveway of his house. “I want a family,” he murmured.
Realizing what he had just said, he jolted to a stop beneath the porte cochere by the garage. Please don’t let her have heard me.
She reached for the door handle, but he held his hand up. She slowly pulled back, and he got out of the car, hurried around to open her door. He took her hand to help her out, and electricity crackled between them.
She looked up at him, startled. Putting space between them, she turned her attention to his house.
He tried to imagine what it looked like from her perspective.
Built in the eighteenth century, the gray stone walls had held up well. A slate roof faded to grayish blue topped the two story house. He’d replaced the old windows with new white ones, and had the stone chimney shored up. Wooden window boxes filled with flowers brightened the façade, and dark green ivy climbed the walls to the roof. Flowers bloomed profusely in the garden, so many he didn’t know all the names yet. Soaring lilac trees surrounded the property around to the back. His new home had history and character. It was the first place he had felt at home in a long time, if ever.
“Oh, my. It’s just lovely. I
A drop of water hit her cheek, and she looked just up as the clouds opened. Rain poured down on them, and they hurried to gather up the picnic. They dashed to his car and climbed in out of the rain. The drops hit the car so hard, it sounded as if gunfire had erupted.
“It looks like our drive will be cut short,” he said, shifting into gear. “Would you like to see my house? It is nearby, so we can dry off. Or I can take you back to the chateau, if you prefer.” He held his breath, hoping she would not want to return to the chateau.
“You bought a house here?”
“ Oui . I’ve moved back to France recently.”
“But don’t you live in Milan?”
“How did you know that?”
She hesitated.
“Genevieve?”
Waiting for an answer, he glanced at her.
She met his eyes, didn’t say anything.
He searched her face, waiting for an answer. Why does she hesitate? What is she hiding?
She blushed, her cheeks turning pink. “Oh, all right. I looked you up online before I bought my airline ticket.” She turned her head away, looked out the window.
“You looked for me online?”
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t in France.”
“Oh.” Her answer stung, and his heart sank.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you that to upset you.”
“I think we should talk. I want to know . . .” He slowed the car at the crossroads. “Will you come to my house so we can talk in private?”
Please. He held his breath, hoping she would agree.
“Yes, I can do that, and I’d like to see your house.”
Something relaxed in him, and he turned right at the intersection.
“It is not too far from my cousin.”
“What made you decide to move back here? And how come there’s been no mention of your move?”
“It was time,” he said, trying to put into words what he was afraid to admit out loud. “I missed my cousin, and my homeland. I’ve kept it quiet as much as possible because I didn’t want the press to find out and hound me. I want solitude here. It’s time for me to settle down.”
“Cut out the wild life you’ve been leading?” She laughed.
She may have laughed, but he heard the derision in her voice, and he flicked a glance at her. Why would she care?
She stared out the window. Her fingers clenched around the strap of her purse, and he wondered if she realized she was strangling it.
He reached out and touched her tightly closed fist. “Most of the gossip printed about me is not true.”
She snorted. “Riiight,” she drawled.
“I may have been wild a long time ago . . .” after you left me . “But I don’t want to be that man any longer.”
“Why the change of heart?”
“I’m getting older now. I do not want a wild reputation.” He pulled into the driveway of his house. “I want a family,” he murmured.
Realizing what he had just said, he jolted to a stop beneath the porte cochere by the garage. Please don’t let her have heard me.
She reached for the door handle, but he held his hand up. She slowly pulled back, and he got out of the car, hurried around to open her door. He took her hand to help her out, and electricity crackled between them.
She looked up at him, startled. Putting space between them, she turned her attention to his house.
He tried to imagine what it looked like from her perspective.
Built in the eighteenth century, the gray stone walls had held up well. A slate roof faded to grayish blue topped the two story house. He’d replaced the old windows with new white ones, and had the stone chimney shored up. Wooden window boxes filled with flowers brightened the façade, and dark green ivy climbed the walls to the roof. Flowers bloomed profusely in the garden, so many he didn’t know all the names yet. Soaring lilac trees surrounded the property around to the back. His new home had history and character. It was the first place he had felt at home in a long time, if ever.
“Oh, my. It’s just lovely. I
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