her lightweight cotton robe, flung open the door leading out onto the long balcony, and stepped outside, as had been her custom since her arrival.
There wasnât a cloud in the burning blue sky. This early in the morning she would have been shivering back home, even on Englandâs hottest day. This air was blissfully warm, clear, and light, with a strange luminosity that Zoe was only just getting used to and that brought the colors more vividly to life. It was like taking off smoky glasses and seeing a richness of foliage that she had never imagined. She could never have believed that there were so many shades of green or that red could be so red. The sun-saturated stone of the buildings ranged from glaring white to a glowing, living gold and hurt eyes that were unaccustomed to it.
She was lucky enough to be enjoying a holiday on the French Riviera. She had a wonderful hostess and a kind and compatible fiancé. Was she going to let all this be spoiled for her by the dark intrusion of a figure from her past who had no place at all in her current well-ordered life?
The unmistakable fragrance of coffee hit her a second before Mattâs deep voice announced, âGood morning, Zoe. I knew instinctively that you would be an early riser, and I had the forethought to instruct Yvette to bring a spare cup. Come and have breakfast with me.â
Zoe choked on her despair. The past she was so valiantly trying to deny was too forcefully in the present for her liking. A memory was easier to stamp out than a living, mocking reminder. She had forgotten that, as Matt had a room farther along the passage from hers, he would also be sharing the balcony. Monique and Pierre were also on their level, so it wasnât as if they were completely isolated, but the old coupleâs quarters were at the back of the house. Sharing a balcony with Matt was an intimacy she could have done without.
âI havenât brushed my teeth yet,â she said.
A dark eyebrow arched in cruel amusement at the flimsiness of that excuse for not sharing his table. âThen run along and brush your teeth, if you must. But hurry, or the coffee will get cold.â
She nodded mutely but remained rooted to the spot. Her leaden feet somehow wouldnât obey the command of her brain. She didnât so much want to run along and do his bidding as run away. But running away had never solved anything. It would be unrealistic to go ahead and marry Tony while there was the tiniest suspicion of Mattâs dark shadow lurking in her heart. She must face up to him and somehow push him out, not let him affect her in this way. She didnât feel very proud of herself. It was shallow to let Matt move her as he did.
He was already dressed in the second-skin jeans heâd been wearing the morning sheâd called to see Tony. Standing there, unable to move, devouring him with her eyes and not being able to do a thing about it, she felt skinned, her jumping nerve ends, the warmth of her feelings for him, exposed for his cruel observation. To complement the jeans he wore a sky blue shirt that flapped open and showed off that tantalizing V of tightly curling hair. Her fingertips still prickled as she wondered if it would be coarse or silky to the touch.
His smile slashed deeper and more mockingly, as if he had intercepted that thought, and that gave her the impetus to move.
She brushed her teeth and rinsed her face. She combed her hair but decided to remain in the cotton robe, which gave adequate, demure coverage and allowed her to be back in a minimum of time. She didnât want him to think that she was nervous at returning to be in his company, or that she was taking her time to doll up for him.
As well as the coffee, there were orange juice, croissants, and a cherry preserve that Zoe pronounced as delicious on taking the first bite.
After demolishing his roll Matt reached out to the flat basket where the hot croissants were piled on a snow-white
There wasnât a cloud in the burning blue sky. This early in the morning she would have been shivering back home, even on Englandâs hottest day. This air was blissfully warm, clear, and light, with a strange luminosity that Zoe was only just getting used to and that brought the colors more vividly to life. It was like taking off smoky glasses and seeing a richness of foliage that she had never imagined. She could never have believed that there were so many shades of green or that red could be so red. The sun-saturated stone of the buildings ranged from glaring white to a glowing, living gold and hurt eyes that were unaccustomed to it.
She was lucky enough to be enjoying a holiday on the French Riviera. She had a wonderful hostess and a kind and compatible fiancé. Was she going to let all this be spoiled for her by the dark intrusion of a figure from her past who had no place at all in her current well-ordered life?
The unmistakable fragrance of coffee hit her a second before Mattâs deep voice announced, âGood morning, Zoe. I knew instinctively that you would be an early riser, and I had the forethought to instruct Yvette to bring a spare cup. Come and have breakfast with me.â
Zoe choked on her despair. The past she was so valiantly trying to deny was too forcefully in the present for her liking. A memory was easier to stamp out than a living, mocking reminder. She had forgotten that, as Matt had a room farther along the passage from hers, he would also be sharing the balcony. Monique and Pierre were also on their level, so it wasnât as if they were completely isolated, but the old coupleâs quarters were at the back of the house. Sharing a balcony with Matt was an intimacy she could have done without.
âI havenât brushed my teeth yet,â she said.
A dark eyebrow arched in cruel amusement at the flimsiness of that excuse for not sharing his table. âThen run along and brush your teeth, if you must. But hurry, or the coffee will get cold.â
She nodded mutely but remained rooted to the spot. Her leaden feet somehow wouldnât obey the command of her brain. She didnât so much want to run along and do his bidding as run away. But running away had never solved anything. It would be unrealistic to go ahead and marry Tony while there was the tiniest suspicion of Mattâs dark shadow lurking in her heart. She must face up to him and somehow push him out, not let him affect her in this way. She didnât feel very proud of herself. It was shallow to let Matt move her as he did.
He was already dressed in the second-skin jeans heâd been wearing the morning sheâd called to see Tony. Standing there, unable to move, devouring him with her eyes and not being able to do a thing about it, she felt skinned, her jumping nerve ends, the warmth of her feelings for him, exposed for his cruel observation. To complement the jeans he wore a sky blue shirt that flapped open and showed off that tantalizing V of tightly curling hair. Her fingertips still prickled as she wondered if it would be coarse or silky to the touch.
His smile slashed deeper and more mockingly, as if he had intercepted that thought, and that gave her the impetus to move.
She brushed her teeth and rinsed her face. She combed her hair but decided to remain in the cotton robe, which gave adequate, demure coverage and allowed her to be back in a minimum of time. She didnât want him to think that she was nervous at returning to be in his company, or that she was taking her time to doll up for him.
As well as the coffee, there were orange juice, croissants, and a cherry preserve that Zoe pronounced as delicious on taking the first bite.
After demolishing his roll Matt reached out to the flat basket where the hot croissants were piled on a snow-white
Similar Books
