You're the One: a Contemporary Romance Novella Set in Paris (Bistro La Bohème) (8 page)

A
moan escaped her lips. He tightened his grip on her waist. His mouth descended
on the side of her neck and covered it with hot kisses, branding her skin. She
arched her neck and
opened her eyes to the immense blueness of the sky. When
her gaze fell on the tips of the trees, she remembered they were in a public
park, even if it was a secluded corner of it. She should be ashamed of
herself—a nursery school teacher making out in the park like some hapless
teenage girl. What if someone saw them? What if someone recognized them?

She
placed a hand on his chest and pulled back a little. “This is crazy. We must
stop.”

“Must
we? Are you uncomfortable? Look around—there’s no one else here,” he said
in a raspy voice.

When
he moved his hand from her breast to her hip, she felt bereft. They stood like
that for a few moments, gazing into each other’s eyes. In the silence of the
park she could hear the sparrows, his ragged breathing, and her own pulse. She
could feel the thumping beat of his heart against her hand. But what made her
mouth dry and her knees wobbly was the stark want in his darkened eyes. Knowing
she held the power to unleash the restrained fierceness of it—right now,
right here, if she wanted to—was like having a bag of her favorite candy
in her pocket when she was a kid. The pinnacle of sweetness.

Adrien
closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. This was becoming unbearable.
He wanted to kiss her until she’d abandoned herself and then peel off her
clothes, feast his eyes on her body, and taste her skin—every inch of it.
But they were in a park. He had already gone too far. Had he shocked her? Did
she think he was a manwhore unable to control his lust? Oh God, did she feel
about him the way he’d felt about Louise a few weeks ago?

Release her now. Go explore
the park with her, like a decent man would do on a first date
.

Instead,
his hands began to explore her back. He reveled in learning her curves and
dips, in the silky feel of her blouse against his fingertips.

She
sighed and leaned into him ever so slightly.

“Natalie,”
he said, his voice low with emotion.

He
repeated her name again and again, caressing her with his voice, making love to
her with it. He made unspoken promises.

With
superhuman effort, he let go of her and walked over to the large chestnut tree.
He pulled off the sweater he’d had over of his T-shirt and spread it on the
ground.

Then
he sat on it with his back against the tree trunk and patted the space between
his open knees. “Come here.”

Natalie
couldn’t stop staring at his 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 come up?”

“Yes, yes, of course!” She shook off her bafflement. “Third
floor, left of the elevator.”

Two minutes later Rob walked in, as sexy and gorgeous as
ever. Lena suddenly felt self-conscious about her tangled damp hair, her jersey
tank top, checkered boxers, and rubber flip-flops.

Oh, well—too late to do anything about it now
.

He handed her the glasses. “As I said, I was in the
neighborhood.”

“Thank you.” She motioned him to the kitchen. “I was making
myself some herbal tea . . . if you like that sort of stuff.
Otherwise, I’ve got regular tea, coffee, soda . . .”

“A soda will be fine, thanks.”

She gave him a glass and a can of soda from the fridge, and
turned away to make tea. As she dropped the teabag into the mug, she heard him
take a few steps toward her, then place the soda and the glass on the
countertop. Slowly, she poured scalding water into her mug and put the kettle
down. Rob was now so close she could feel his warm breath on her bare shoulder.

And then he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed
his chest against her back.

She stood motionless, as her heart
raced and her vision clouded. A swarm of delicious sensations overwhelmed
her—his head-turning masculine scent, the gentleness of his strong arms,
the comfort of his chest against her back. She told herself she had to stop
him, right then, before he went too far. But she knew at some visceral level,
in every nerve ending under her skin, that there was no force on the face of
the earth that could make her stop him now.

--

Rob’s mind had gone completely blank when he followed his
crazy impulse and put his arms around Lena. But when Lena froze, he began to
panic. He had no idea how she would react to this. Seconds stretched into an
eternity. And then she leaned back into his embrace, ever so slightly, but
enough to tell him what he needed to know. He wanted to roar with joy. He
wanted to see her face. He wanted to remain in that moment forever.

Then she turned around and looked into his eyes. She was
radiant. It was one of those charmed instances when everything, absolutely
everything was perfect. This universe, this city, this specific spot in the
kitchen, and this precise instance in time. And so he cupped her face with his
hands and kissed her. Tenderly at first and then passionately, claiming her
mouth, sampling the warm softness of her lips, and sweeping his tongue between
them.

She responded with ardor, saying yes with her kisses, with
her hands stroking the back of his head and with her body pressing into his.
Rob was walking on air. He craved Lena, and she left no doubt she wanted him
back.

But through his arousal and bliss he heard an admonishing
voice.
You don’t deserve her trust. You don’t deserve this pleasure.
And
all at once, he felt like a fraud, like a thief who had acquired something
precious through deceit.

He
needed her to know the truth.

End of Excerpt

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What If It’s Love?
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