A Kiss in Lavender by Laura Florand

Author:Laura Florand [Florand, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AOS Publishing
Published: 2017-09-11T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 16

So Elena had pretty much gotten on with her life—she wasn’t stupid—when he called her. What the hell was up with that? The very next evening. At nine o'clock, as she had curled up in bed with a book, her phone rang. And it was him. And she was an idiot and had to answer it.

Lucien's deep voice, wrapping her up with warmth right there in her bed, as if he was her comforter. "Ça va, bella?"

Elena scowled at the phone. No, it was not going. How could he even ask that? As if the very question, in his deep warm voice, was what changed the whole evening and made things go all right.

The worst thing was that it did. “Never drink limoncello in Italy,” she said. “Let that be a lesson to me.”

Lucien laughed. “If us together was enough to make you feel drunk on two sips, I think we’ve got something here.”

She glowered at his voice. That blasted, totally unfounded confidence in his voice as if he could make happily ever after come true just because he was in it.

“Put me on video?” Lucien said.

She bit her thumb tip uneasily. But she knew he found her sexy. And she was a terribly weak-willed person. Because she shrugged her knit top off one shoulder and ran her fingers through her hair and did switch to video. “Just for a minute.”

Lucien’s tan face filled the screen with that warmth in his eyes that always felt so uniquely hers. “Mmm.” That deep sound of approval licked around her and curled her toes. “Grazie, bella.”

“Don't you start with the Italian.” She started to snuggle down into her pillow and stopped herself. “Can I turn it off now?”

“Is it okay if I catch a screenshot?”

“No.” Guys could be jerks. His whole company probably spent half their lives showing off photos of hot women to each other.

Lucien’s expression flickered.

Of course he could have just taken the screenshot anyway. And instead he had asked.

“Okay, ma chérie.”

Oh, she was his chérie now, was she? Elena, you sucker. Never drink limoncello. Never speak to legionnaires. Never even set foot in Italy.

He blew her a kiss, and the video cut out. Oh. And he’d listened to her without arguing.

She curled up on her side, the phone against her ear, because somehow it felt as if that way her reaction to him was her little secret. He didn't get to know.

“So you're in bed,” that warm, deep voice said in her ear. As if the fact gave him a great deal of material for reflection.

“Just reading.”

“Any sexy bits?”

Maybe. “It’s War and Peace.”

Lucien laughed. Damn, she loved his laugh. Especially in that rumble in her ear, as if her ability to make him laugh was an intimate and special gift. It was probably okay to believe in him a little bit here, wasn’t it? He was hours across the Mediterranean. So it was a pretend believe.

“You little liar. So if you’re not going to share, I guess I have to imagine the sexy bits on my own?”

“Go away,” she said.

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