V-shaped torso as she walked toward him. He
wrapped his arms around her as soon as she nestled her back against his chest.
They were
strong and graceful, his arms.
“Adrien,” she
said, tilting her head to look into his eyes. “Why in heaven have you been
hiding that hunky body under those huge sweaters?”
“What’s wrong
with my sweaters?” He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Wait—did you
just call me hunky?”
“Who, me? I’d
never.”
“I’m sure I
heard you say ‘hunky’.”
She turned her
head away from him and stroked the lean muscles on his arms. “I said ‘hanky’.
As in handkerchief.”
“Ah. I should
make an appointment with the ear doctor.”
“Uh-huh.”
He pushed her
hair to one side and nuzzled her neck. “There’s something you should know about
me. I travel frequently for tournaments. Sometimes as often as every month.
Sometimes more.”
She tensed.
What was he trying to tell her? That his life was all about chess? That she
shouldn’t expect too much?
She forced
herself to shrug. “Take it easy. I don’t expect us to be serious just because I
left Fred.”
There, now he
wouldn’t think her needy.
“Oh, I was
hoping . . .I was hoping we’d be serious,” he said, disappointment palpable in
his voice.
Crap. She screwed up her face, cursing her stupidity. This was
Adrien, not Fred. He didn’t speak in codes, didn’t expect her to read between
the lines and decipher his messages. He was real and trusted her to be real. To
be herself. Provided she could still remember how to do it.
She shifted
her position and sat on her heels, facing him. “Forget what I just said. I
didn’t mean it.”
“What was it
you meant then?” He gave her a searching look.
She closed her
eyes and went for it. “I’d like our relationship to be serious.”
He was silent.
She opened her
eyes and shook her head in dismay. “This is so against every rule in the dating
manual. Too much. Too soon. Can you handle it?”
A crooked
smile spread on his face. “Is there more?”
“You want
more? I couldn’t possibly. I’m not used to this level of
frankness . . .What the hell. Yeah, there’s more. Corny as it
may sound, I hope you’re the one .
Because I really like you.”
“I like you,
too. Very much.” He paused. “Can you handle more?”
“Try me.”
“I lied. I
don’t like you. I’m crazy about you.”
She cupped his
cheek. “I doubt you’ve even heard of the dating manual.”
“Brace
yourself, ma chérie . It gets worse.”
His expression grew serious. “I want to make your dreams come true. And I sure
as hell hope I am the one for you.”
She grinned,
awash in happiness.
He added with infinite tenderness, “Because
I know you’re the one for me.”
<<<<>>>>
Excerpt from “What If It’s Love?” ( Bistro la Bohème Book 1)
Introverted heiress Lena moves to Paris
to nurse old wounds reopened by her neglectful boyfriend. Enter Rob, a
charismatic and handsome Frenchman who waits tables at La Bohème—a café
on Lena’s street—and has big dreams.
He makes her laugh and forget her
insecurities. She stirs something infinitely tender in his soul. Before they
know it, they’ve fallen for each other, even though both had good reasons to
fight the budding love.
But their passionate romance is cut
short when she discovers his dirty secret…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once inside her apartment, Lena took a long shower and then
started the kettle to make tea. As the kettle went off, so did the entrance
buzzer.
She went to the intercom by the door. “Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Rob. I have your eyeglasses. Can you buzz me in?”
She just stood there, unable to wrap her mind around the
situation. “But . . . Did I leave them on the train?”
“Yep. I noticed them just before I got off, and by then you
were already gone. I thought you might need them tonight, so I
just . . .” He trailed off. “I was in the neighborhood
anyway . . . Can I
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