Read Online Under My Skin: A Contemporary Romance Set in Paris (Bistro La Bohème Book 2) by Alix Nichols - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alix Nichols
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Didier. Well, almost.”
“You’re joking.”
“No. What’s wrong with Didier?”
“What’s right with Didier?”
Anger swelled in her chest. “I’ll tell you
what’s right. He wants to be my business partner. He finds me competent, great
at my job, smart. He’s never called me hot .” She gave him a hard look.
“It’s refreshing.”
“Jeanne, no matter what he calls you, or doesn’t call you, the guy’s a jerk. You can’t go out with him.”
“Says who? What gives you the right to
counsel me on my private life?”
He stared at her, his gray eyes unblinking
and a vein pulsing on his strong neck. Then, suddenly, his gaze grew softer,
almost pleading. “I may have no right, but a woman like you deserves better
than Didier. You . . . a woman like you . . .” He
paused, his face contorting in some sort of inner struggle.
Jeanne held her breath. Was he going to say a
woman like her deserved him ? Was he about to tell her he wanted more
than one night?
Their gazes locked, hers searching, his
conflicted. In the silence that stretched, her heart thumped. She took a deep
breath in a hopeless attempt to calm herself.
When he finally spoke, his expression was
determined, almost defiant. “I won’t deny feeling a little possessive of you,
no matter how much I fight it. But it’s my problem. It doesn’t change the fact
that Didier isn’t a good match for you.”
She exhaled slowly before replying. “Oh yeah?
And who’s a good match for me? What about you, Mat? Are you a good match
for me?”
He said nothing, just held her gaze as a
flush spread over his cheeks.
Jeanne’s nostrils flared. “Or do you expect
me to tie a curled ribbon around my neck and offer myself to you just because
you find me hot ?” She spat the last word as if it were an insult.
“Jeanne, I’m not sure why you get so riled
up. The way I see it, being hot is . . . awesome.” He paused
before adding, “I’m saying this from personal experience as a former toad-eyed nerd who never got a second glance from you . . . until I became hot .”
The remark gave her pause. Mat had a point.
Her pouring scorn on hotness was dangerously close to hypocrisy. Which she
abhorred. But then why was she still so upset at his compliment?
In a flash of clarity, it came to her.
“Tell me, Mat,” she said in a much calmer
voice. “Would you describe your wonderful girlfriend as hot ?”
“No,” he said without hesitation.
“Thought so. Would you call her beautiful ?”
He sighed and nodded.
“That’s why I get so riled up. It’s not the
compliment itself—it’s the implications.” She stared out the window.
He kept silent.
Expelling her breath in a long exhalation,
she took a few steps toward him and looked him straight in the eyes.
“Let’s say we do it. Say we sleep together.
Would your beautiful girlfriend be OK with it?”
Mat shook his head slowly, his face crimson.
“Would you even tell her?”
“No.”
Jeanne spun around and stomped back into the
bathroom. “Get out of my room,” she said, pulling the door behind her.
She paused and added
before slamming the door shut, “And out of my life.”
***
Chapter
Six
March
February rolled into March with no sign of
the winter relenting. Jeanne had never before seen so much snow fall onto the
city and refuse to melt. After a week of denial, the Parisian fashionistas
swapped their elegant footwear for fur-lined moon boots and resigned themselves
to wearing hairdo-ruining knitted hats.
Pierre installed a patio heater next to the
main entrance of La Bohème . The early morning “coffee and cigarette”
patrons hailed the initiative as lifesaving.
On the coldest day in Jeanne’s memory, her
parents came from the south to stay with her for three days. On the first day,
Jeanne took them to see an impressionist exhibit at the Musée d’Orsay. They
loved it. The next day she took them to an avant-garde art installation
at the Petit Palais. They loved
“You’re joking.”
“No. What’s wrong with Didier?”
“What’s right with Didier?”
Anger swelled in her chest. “I’ll tell you
what’s right. He wants to be my business partner. He finds me competent, great
at my job, smart. He’s never called me hot .” She gave him a hard look.
“It’s refreshing.”
“Jeanne, no matter what he calls you, or doesn’t call you, the guy’s a jerk. You can’t go out with him.”
“Says who? What gives you the right to
counsel me on my private life?”
He stared at her, his gray eyes unblinking
and a vein pulsing on his strong neck. Then, suddenly, his gaze grew softer,
almost pleading. “I may have no right, but a woman like you deserves better
than Didier. You . . . a woman like you . . .” He
paused, his face contorting in some sort of inner struggle.
Jeanne held her breath. Was he going to say a
woman like her deserved him ? Was he about to tell her he wanted more
than one night?
Their gazes locked, hers searching, his
conflicted. In the silence that stretched, her heart thumped. She took a deep
breath in a hopeless attempt to calm herself.
When he finally spoke, his expression was
determined, almost defiant. “I won’t deny feeling a little possessive of you,
no matter how much I fight it. But it’s my problem. It doesn’t change the fact
that Didier isn’t a good match for you.”
She exhaled slowly before replying. “Oh yeah?
And who’s a good match for me? What about you, Mat? Are you a good match
for me?”
He said nothing, just held her gaze as a
flush spread over his cheeks.
Jeanne’s nostrils flared. “Or do you expect
me to tie a curled ribbon around my neck and offer myself to you just because
you find me hot ?” She spat the last word as if it were an insult.
“Jeanne, I’m not sure why you get so riled
up. The way I see it, being hot is . . . awesome.” He paused
before adding, “I’m saying this from personal experience as a former toad-eyed nerd who never got a second glance from you . . . until I became hot .”
The remark gave her pause. Mat had a point.
Her pouring scorn on hotness was dangerously close to hypocrisy. Which she
abhorred. But then why was she still so upset at his compliment?
In a flash of clarity, it came to her.
“Tell me, Mat,” she said in a much calmer
voice. “Would you describe your wonderful girlfriend as hot ?”
“No,” he said without hesitation.
“Thought so. Would you call her beautiful ?”
He sighed and nodded.
“That’s why I get so riled up. It’s not the
compliment itself—it’s the implications.” She stared out the window.
He kept silent.
Expelling her breath in a long exhalation,
she took a few steps toward him and looked him straight in the eyes.
“Let’s say we do it. Say we sleep together.
Would your beautiful girlfriend be OK with it?”
Mat shook his head slowly, his face crimson.
“Would you even tell her?”
“No.”
Jeanne spun around and stomped back into the
bathroom. “Get out of my room,” she said, pulling the door behind her.
She paused and added
before slamming the door shut, “And out of my life.”
***
Chapter
Six
March
February rolled into March with no sign of
the winter relenting. Jeanne had never before seen so much snow fall onto the
city and refuse to melt. After a week of denial, the Parisian fashionistas
swapped their elegant footwear for fur-lined moon boots and resigned themselves
to wearing hairdo-ruining knitted hats.
Pierre installed a patio heater next to the
main entrance of La Bohème . The early morning “coffee and cigarette”
patrons hailed the initiative as lifesaving.
On the coldest day in Jeanne’s memory, her
parents came from the south to stay with her for three days. On the first day,
Jeanne took them to see an impressionist exhibit at the Musée d’Orsay. They
loved it. The next day she took them to an avant-garde art installation
at the Petit Palais. They loved
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