Read Summer Of My Secret Angel Online

Authors: Anna Katmore

Tags: #fiction, #romance, #adventure, #cancer, #fantasy, #paranormal, #sad, #france, #angel, #redemption, #contemporary, #teen, #london, #sarcasm, #first kiss, #first love, #best friend, #mother daughter, #play with me, #piper shelly

Summer Of My Secret Angel (10 page)

BOOK: Summer Of My Secret Angel
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A metal square built into the wall next to
the credenza caught my eye. It resembled a cat flap. When I stood
and pushed against the metal, it even moved back like one. I bent
forward and slid my head into the hole in the wall to see where the
shaft behind the flap would lead. Totally dark inside, I couldn’t
see anything. But my call echoed funnily in there.
“Helllououou…”

Someone cleared his throat behind me.

I bumped my head as I jerked back.
Shit,
that hurt
.

“That’s a laundry chute. You drop your
clothes in there when they need to be washed.”

Glowering at Julian’s amused face, I rubbed
my skull. “Don’t people ever knock in France?”

“Actually, I did knock. But when you didn’t
answer, I assumed you were having a shower and considered it safe
to come in. I didn’t know you were playing the terrycloth-princess
in here.”

I yanked the towel from my shoulders and
shoved it behind my back. Heat rose fast to my cheeks. “And what is
that?” I nodded my chin at the pile of clothes in his arms.

Julian ambled over to my bed where he
dropped the entire load. “Marie had me bringing this to you.
Apparently, these are things she no longer wears. Said to keep the
stuff you like and burn your old ones.”

“She said that?” I squeaked in
disbelief.

“Well, not the
burning
.” He gave me a
sheepish grin. “But I believe you can discard your shabby things
now that you have a selection of nicer clothes.”

The sound of my grinding teeth reverberated
through my head. If I wasn’t careful, I’d wear down my molars in
this damn place. “My clothes are not shabby.”

Julian pointed to my leg. “There’s a hole in
your knee.”

“That hole is personal.”

“Ooh, don’t tell me. It’s a special reminder
of one of your reckless raids.” He quirked one brow. “The pants got
ripped during the dramatic escape, didn’t they?”

Get bent and die.

I shrugged, lips tight. The pair of Doc
Martens had totally been worth the sore knee and the damaged
jeans.

His laughter as he walked out of my room
haunted me. Only when I was undressed and standing under the warm
spray of the shower did my irritation ease. This time I made sure
the bathroom door was locked.

By the time I stepped out of the cubicle and
wrapped myself into a soft white towel, the skin on my fingers and
feet resembled prunes. But my hair smelled like a pool of
rosewater, and my body soaked in the lotion of some gorgeous
flowers. I figured Marie wouldn’t mind if I used some of the stuff
stored behind the mirror or else she wouldn’t have placed it there.
After all, she had told me to help myself to anything. I applied
the creams generously.

On the credenza, several brushes and a
hairdryer lay neatly arranged by size with the handles toward me.
Marie could hardly have bought all these things for her possible
future daughter the day she thought of getting pregnant. She must
have stocked the credenza with ladies’ utensils when she heard of
my visit. The woman really made it hard for me not to like her.

When I was done with the difficult task of
drying and brushing my hair at the same time, my usually dry,
brittle strands had changed into a soft well of silk. Curtains of
shiny auburn framed my face, and I had to double check the mirror
to make sure it was really me.

Like a horse, I swayed my head from side to
side as I galloped out of the bathroom, enjoying the sweet smell
and the gentle caress of my hair on my cheeks. I leaped onto the
bed and squealed, rolling on my back, feeling fresh like a newly
plucked peach. Everything felt right in this brief, perfect
moment.

But in the next, footfalls on the wood
boards of the balcony stopped me in my gambol.

Clutching the towel to my naked body, I
glared at the French door, but no one appeared in the frame. On
tiptoes, I sneaked behind the curtains and peeked through. Outside
was empty, but to the left, a silky white veil wafted in and out
through a door just like mine.

Great
. Marie had neglected to tell me
the balcony connected Julian’s room with mine. And unless I was
totally mistaken, he’d just come to pay me another surprise visit.
My heady romp probably scared him off—or maybe some sense of
decency made him retreat.

Whatever the cause, it would be wise to get
dressed. And fast. Last time a boy saw me naked, the oaf hopped out
of the girls’ shower room on one leg with a broken toe and a black
eye, courtesy of my fist.

My body had sprouted curves since then, and
Julian was the last person I intended to grant an exclusive
look.

I dragged my backpack from the built-in
closet and rummaged for a set of underwear. A faded gray t-shirt in
my hands, I remembered the stack of clothes Marie sent me, which
currently sat on my bed. Of course, I wouldn’t do as that moron had
suggested and burn my own clothes. But taking a look at what my
aunt had given me wouldn’t hurt. Maybe borrow a thing or two, just
for today. Of course, the clothes would stay behind when I parted
from the house and my family tomorrow.

Marie had been generous in her donation.
This was the widest selection of clothes I had ever possessed.
Several shirts with and without sleeves in different colors and
patterns spread on the bedding. After wearing the same jeans and
sweaters for so many years, this felt like diving headfirst into a
pool of treasures.

I grabbed one piece after the other and held
it to my chest in front of the mirror. Wow, what did people do with
so much luxury? Folding the clothes carefully, I stored them in the
wardrobe. For now, a black, snugly fitting tee with a V-neck would
do.

There were also jeans and skirts. In this
warm climate, I refrained from picking long pants. But not being
the type to wear medieval gowns that reached my ankles, I chose one
of the few pairs of shorts among the pile of cotton and linen. Hems
fringed, it looked like someone had cut off the legs of a pair of
jeans.

I had no trouble fitting into Marie’s
clothes. The shorts enhanced my hips like they were made for me,
although they covered little more than my bottom. The tee
accentuated my breasts a tad too much, but long strands of my hair
covered it nicely.

A whole new Jona stared back at me from the
mirror. But most unfamiliar was the happy smile tugging on my
lips.

Did I just think
happy
?
No,
definitely not.
Marie and her family must have been out of
their minds if they really thought they could bait me with a
beautiful room and nice clothes. I didn’t belong here and more
importantly, I didn’t
want
to live here. No one could make
me, not even a bald judge with a wooden hammer.

Nothing wrong with enjoying one day in this
place, but tomorrow I’d be off.

The little, round clock next to my bed said
it was just shy of seven, and I decided not to wait for Aunt Marie
to come and get me for dinner. I cast one last look out on the
balcony, careful not to step on the boards, but only leaning my
head out. The wood construction hovering fifteen feet above the
ground made me aware of my vertigo all the more. Yet the balcony
provided a priceless view of the vineyards.

Julian’s door still stood open, but there
was no sign of him outside. I took a deep breath, steeling my
nerves for the coming dinner with family, including the dragon,
then turned my back on the enchanting garden and headed for the
door. As I pulled it open, I shrieked. Julian’s fist came diving
for my forehead.

“Whoa.” He jerked his hand back just before
he’d have bashed me flat on the ground. Shock or astonishment, I
couldn’t tell which, filled his face. Then his gaze dropped and
lingered on my bare legs.

“Well, yeah, it’s um…” Grimacing, I tried to
tug my shorts and cover my legs. And failed miserably. “Short,” I
said, as if he couldn’t see that.

He cleared his throat. “At least it doesn’t
leave much room to rip holes into it.”

“Well if it isn’t Prince Charming
speaking.”

That made him laugh. The sound ripped down
the walls I had built around myself.

“Come on, Cinderella.” He bowed. “The
banquet is waiting.”

“We better hurry before the clock strikes
twelve and I turn into a pumpkin again.” I loped down the stairs
after him, grinning like a loon.

 

  1. UNEXPECTED KINDNESS

 

 

A WARM, SPICY smell clung to the air in the
kitchen and made my mouth water. Ignoring my mother’s attempts to
greet me while she helped Marie with dinner, I slid into the corner
seat. So the dragon had come out of her hole again. Admittedly, she
looked a good deal better than a few hours before. But she got no
more than a cold glare from me.

Julian stood behind one of the two high-back
oak chairs, observing the drama going on. He shook his head, pulled
the chair out, and sat down.

When Albert sauntered through the door,
Marie ushered my mother to join the rest of us at the table. With
six empty seats, the dragon chose the one right next to me. I
rolled my eyes, turned and slid out. Disapproval reflected in the
look Julian gave me. As I lowered into the chair next to him, his
mouth opened. But before he could say one word, my mother cleared
her throat a tad too loud to pass as a negligible cough. He drew in
a deep breath and sighed.

Why the hell did he care about how I reacted
to my mother? I sent him a dark glare, but for the moment, he
ignored me.

Albert found a place at the head of the
table, and Marie dished chicken with veggies onto his plate first.
The smell of home-cooked food wafted from the serving dishes and
promised a succulent meal. My stomach rumbled. I hoped no one heard
it. Hastily, I gulped down some water from my glass then pierced a
chopped carrot with my fork.

“Do you like your room?” Albert shoved a
piece of bread into his mouth, his gaze focused on me.

I nodded, chewing on my chicken.

“The furniture might not match your taste,”
he continued, pouring himself a glass of wine. “Marie’s teenage
bedroom stuff must be stored somewhere in the cellar. We can change
it if you like.”

His offer surprised me, made me
uncomfortable even. I frowned. Would he want a reward for his
friendliness? In my almost eighteen years, only Quinn had ever
helped me without expecting anything in return.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll only be here
for six weeks.” The edge to my voice made me feel bad. In fact, I
wouldn’t want a single piece in the beautiful room changed for
anything. It was perfect. And I’d only be staying for a single
night, anyway.

Marie stroked her husband’s arm. “See, I
told you she likes the room.”

When I met her gaze, her mouth curled into
that sweet smile, which punched through my guard.

Argh
.

My attention focused on the plate in front
of me. I didn’t want them to see how much Marie’s care pleased
me.

“Did you find Valentine and Henri in the
vineyards?” she said.

Julian was the one to reply. “Yep.”

“And will they come in later to meet
Jona?”

“Actually, I asked them not to come until
tomorrow. I didn’t want to overwhelm Jona with new faces on her
first day.” His face remained expressionless as he glanced my
way.

About to take a bite of the skewered
asparagus on my fork, I set the silverware down. A hollow feeling
spread in my belly. I didn’t understand why he was being so nice
after his earlier bantering.

“That was very thoughtful of you.” Marie
offered second helpings to Julian and Albert.

“Yes, very thoughtful indeed.” Inwardly, I
cringed at my own cynical words, when all I really wanted to say
was
thank you
. I had no idea who this Valentine and Henri
were, or why I was to meet them, but Marie and Albert were enough
strangers to deal with for one day.

After dinner, the family moved to the
parlor. Only Marie remained in the kitchen, and I stayed to help
her tidy up the place.

“Just leave the cleaning to me,” she said
and took the plates out of my hands. “Why don’t you go and take a
drink with your mother and the others?”

“Uh, no.” I had avoided my mother’s gaze so
well during the meal, I didn’t want to ruin the evening with being
shoved into a room together with her for any length of time.

My aunt took my face between her warm hands.
“I understand it has been a long day for you. Get some rest.
Tomorrow I will show you the vineyards.” She kissed my forehead so
quickly that I had no time to react other than close my eyes.
“Sleep well,
chérie
.”

Shock and confusion overpowered the comfort
that her jasmine perfume and warm lips tried to raise inside me. My
eyes blinked furiously as I concentrated on my boots. Spinning on
my heels, I strode out of the kitchen. Then I stopped. Damn, I’d
forgotten to say goodnight.

I rubbed the spot on my brow where Marie’s
lips had brushed against my skin. So I didn’t bid them goodnight,
big deal. They were not family. Marie and Albert were my jailers.
No need to show them any pleasantries. Especially, when I
wasn’t
happy in their presence.

Or was I?

Damn, what did they do to me? The French
climate must have gotten into my head. I should have told Marie off
for that unexpected caress and warned her never to kiss me again.
The door to my room banged shut behind me, keeping out everyone—and
those unwanted emotions.

In the fading light, I rummaged through my
suitcase and found my notepad and a pen. I settled with the writing
tools on the cloud-soft bed and piled the pillows behind my
back.

As night fell, I filled eight pages with
denials of my first impressions of this place and the people living
here. By the time I came to ramble on about my aunt’s kiss, the
room had become too dark to distinguish the blue words from the
white of the paper.

BOOK: Summer Of My Secret Angel
8.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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