Modern Romance March 2021 Book 5-8 Carol Marinelli (ebook reader computer txt) 📖

the chef arranged in glorious piles of the finest meats and cheeses, all arranged on their own private stones.

“Please take a menu and find a seat outside,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

She turned as she spoke, her happy carefree smile on her face.

But it was not a new group of tourists.

It was Balthazar.

He did not speak. But then, he didn’t have to speak when all he did was reach up and remove the mirrored sunglasses from his face, letting that blazing dark gaze slam straight into her.

He was Balthazar Skalas.

That harsh look on his face was as good as another man’s shout.

Kendra would never know how she managed to keep holding those heavy platters aloft. Possibly it was that she was frozen solid. Turned to stone.

Incapable of anything but staring at the apparition before her.

One ice age passed. Then another.

“Excuse me,” she said in totally unnecessary French. “I must deliver these.”

She hardly knew what she was doing, only that it was critical she do it. She set off across the floor, then ducked out the door to the patio while he stood there beside it like a smoldering ember.

Outside, she smiled and laughed on cue. She set down the platter and then spent a long, long time telling the group at the table the involved history of every cheese, cured meat, and olive. Only when she’d exhausted that topic did she turn back and head inside.

Slowly, having half convinced herself that Balthazar was a figment of her imagination.

But no.

He was still there, in the exact same place where she’d left him. The devil himself, so incongruous in a French winery’s tasting kitchen that she almost laughed at the absurdity.

Almost. Because there was very little about Balthazar in his considerably mouthwatering flesh that made her feel like laughing.

Another eon or two dragged by as she stared at him. As he returned the favor with the full force of his stern regard.

It took everything Kendra had to fight off all the images that threatened to flood her then. The memories of what had happened between them.

“You must connect these dots for me,” Balthazar said. Eventually. His voice was as she remembered it. Dark. Stirring. Dangerous. “Tell me how a Connecticut heiress finds herself a waitress half a world away.”

“As it happens, I have an innate talent for customer service,” she replied, using her brightest, happiest tone, as if he was really interested in her answer. “That’s not something I knew before I came to France.”

“How can it surprise you?” His voice only got more lethal. More than that, it was a whole storm inside her, so that not only was she forced to remember every single thing that had happened that night in Manhattan, she could feel it. Her body was reliving it, one sensation after the next. “Look what you were willing to do for your brother. How could you doubt that it was a...talent, as you say?”

“I’m delighted you haven’t changed a bit.” She forced her usual happy smile. “Have you come for a tasting? I handle the food, but if you take a seat on the terrace, the sommelier will be with you shortly and can lead you on the journey of your choice through our wines. Today we’re featuring—”

“If I wished to sample wine, Kendra, I would not come here. I have my own vineyards.”

She rolled her eyes. “As one does.”

His face tightened. “I still do not understand. Are you hiding?” If possible, his gaze darkened. “Do you have some reason to hide?”

“This is the south of France,” Kendra said, frowning at him. “People do not hide here. They spend their entire lives concocting reasons to come visit. Then come back. Then find a picturesque cottage surrounded by sunflowers and lavender to grow old in. It’s paradise, Balthazar. Who wouldn’t want to live in paradise?”

“You surprise me. I would have expected you to stay tethered to the family apron strings, running errands for your father and brother. That is your role, is it not?”

She pulled in a breath, surprised at how much that hurt. When really, Kendra had been expecting something like that the moment she’d seen him.

“Don’t beat around the bush,” she said softly. “If you want to call me names, call me names.”

One of his dark brows rose. “Did I not do so?”

“I’m afraid I’ve stepped away from my former profession.” She managed to use her usual bright and shiny voice, and took some pride in the fact she could when he’d left her bleeding. If she didn’t show it, that was almost as good as not bleeding at all. “If that’s why you’ve come, you’re going to be deeply disappointed.”

Balthazar pushed away from the wall, then prowled around the small shop with its souvenirs and keepsakes along one wall, the refrigerated case filled with takeaway options, and the menu stand for table service.

Somehow, Kendra had never realized how small the place was before. How...close.

But then, Balthazar took all the air from the room.

“If you have business with my family, you know how to find them,” she said after a moment, though her pulse was drumming loudly in her ears. “I have nothing to do with this.”

“Perhaps.”

His back was to her then. His gaze was directed out the windows, down over the gentle slope of the vineyard before them. The view she’d loved, until now. Would she ever be able to look at it again without seeing him?

“Tell me this, if you please,” he was saying, low and commanding. “It has been some time since I saw you in New York.”

“Since you saw me,” she echoed, and even laughed. “How sanitized that sounds.”

Balthazar turned to her. She thought the way his gaze cut through her was stark. Brooding, even. But he didn’t speak.

“It was three months ago.” Kendra tried to summon her smile, but gave up when it didn’t materialize. She repressed the urge to rub at the nape of her neck, where she was certain every single fine