The Bookshop of Forgotten Dreams by Emily Blaine

Author:Emily Blaine [Blaine, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008485917
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

Chapter Ten

When I was younger, my grandmother had made me promise never to lie. Solemnly, with my hand over my heart, I’d sworn not to lie. Neither because it was easier nor by omission. Never. I’d quickly realized that my grandmother had been traumatized by my mother’s continuous lies. And I’d kept my promise. No lying, no deception, no compromising the truth.

Until last night, with Maxime.

The moment the lie had crossed my lips, I’d regretted it. Lying only made the situation worse. At any rate, that’s what my grandmother would regularly tell me. But seeing Maxime distance himself so easily and suggest that he’d kissed me just for demonstration purposes had hurt my pride. So, yes, I’d lied. I’d said that the kiss wasn’t perfect.

But it was, in every respect. Between his lips caressing mine and his possessive hand sliding down my back … that kiss was everything I’d always imagined. It hadn’t just made me happy. It had transported me up and away, out of myself. Feeling his heart beat, pressing myself against his body as if my life depended on it, feeling the scratch of his three-day stubble, smelling the trace of cologne on his neck, delighting in his moans. I’d loved it all. Thinking about that kiss still made me blush.

When I woke up this morning, after a difficult night, I’d run my thumb over my lips. I’d felt it on my mouth, like a healing wound. I’d replayed the scene over and over again in my mind, overdosing on it, not understanding how I could feel such emotions with a man who didn’t care about me.

I brushed my hair mechanically in front of the mirror, musing on Maxime’s attitude. Everything about him screamed at me to distance myself. I’d been warned, even kept at arm’s length. Anita had advised me to protect myself; Damien had recommended I not get attached. But there was nothing rational in my relationship to him. After our rough start, his icy repartee, and his anger permanently screwed into his fists, we’d managed to talk. But talking only made the situation more complicated. An innocuous sentence would lead to dozens of questions, and the slightest hint of an answer would inspire new ones.

Curiosity had given way to fascination. I wanted to know more. Always. Maxime revealed little, but when he did, I discovered the man hidden away behind the thorns of his tattoo.

I tried to chase Maxime from my mind and prowled around my bedroom. Agreeing to spend the evening with Frédéric had been an impulse, and not a noble one. When you’re hurt, you do everything you can to hurt the other person back. Seeing Maxime’s victorious smile fall when I’d accepted Frédéric’s invitation had soothed my fractured ego. He couldn’t be allowed to believe he was the only one calling the shots. He wanted distance – I’d give him distance.

I could blow hot and cold just like him.

Just like him, I could keep a poker face and act like that kiss never happened.

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