Love Story Next Door!. Rebecca Winters

      “Touché.”

      Dana was glad when he turned onto a side street and pulled up near a sidewalk café full of locals and tourists. She slid out of the cab before he could come around to help her.

      There was one empty bistro table partially sheltered from the sun by an umbrella. Alex escorted her to it before anyone else grabbed it. The temperature had been mild earlier, but now it was hot. A waiter came right over and took their orders for sandwiches.

      Alex eyed her. “I could use a cup of coffee, but maybe you’d prefer something cold. The air’s more humid than usual today.”

      “Coffee sounds fine.” The waiter nodded and disappeared. She sat back in her chair. “I thought most French people preferred tea.”

      “I grew up on coffee.”

      “No billy tea?” she teased, referring to his Aussie roots.

      He shook his head, drawing her attention to the hair brushing his shirt collar. In the light she picked out several shades ranging from dark brown to black. “I’m afraid tea doesn’t do it for me.”

      “Nor me.” She smiled. “You seem so completely French, I forgot.”

      “It’s a good thing my father isn’t around to hear that.”

      After a brief silence she said, “When you want to go home, that’s a long flight.”

      “I have no home in the traditional sense. My father’s work took us many places. We globetrotted. Mother died in the Côte D’Ivoire and father on Bali where we were both working for the same company at the time. They’re buried in Brisbane.”

      Dana took a deep breath. “Well, you have a home now.”

      One dark eyebrow lifted. “A liability you mean. I’m not certain it’s worth it.”

      She wished she could lighten his mood. “That’s right. You have other plans. Where in the States?”

      “Louisiana. It’s where my particular expertise, such as it is, can be fully utilized.”

      “Are you in such a hurry then?”

      The waiter served them their order before Alex responded. “I wasn’t aware of it, but I suppose I am.”

      While he made inroads on the ham and cheese melt, she took a sip of the hot liquid. “Sounds like your father’s lifestyle rubbed off on you.”

      The gaze he flicked her was surprisingly intense. “From the little you’ve told me about yourself, I’d say you’ve been similarly afflicted.”

      “Afflicted?” An odd choice of word. She stopped munching on her first bite. Of course she understood what he meant. Years of traveling around Europe finding locations for her father prevented her from staying in one spot. But it didn’t mean that under the right circumstances, she couldn’t settle down quite happily.

      “Some people never leave the place they were born,” he murmured. “I’m not so sure they haven’t figured out life’s most important secret.”

      She chuckled. “You mean, while nomads like us wander to and fro in search of what we don’t know exactly?”

      An amused glint entered his dark eyes. “Something like that.”

      “Well, given a choice, I’m glad I’m the way I am. Otherwise I wouldn’t be living this fantasy. My own little girl dreams of being a princess in a castle in a far-off land have come true. Never mind that it will all end in a month, I intend to enjoy every minute of it now, thanks to your generosity.”

      Aware she’d been talking too much, she ate the rest of her sandwich.

      “You think that’s what it is?” The question sent her pulse off the charts. “Little boys have their fantasies, too,” came the wicked aside.

      Fingers of warmth passed through her body. “My mother taught me they’re not for a little girl’s ears.” After drinking the last of her coffee she dared a look at him. “Just how young did you think I was when we first met?”

      “Too young,” was all he was willing to reveal. He put some money on the table and stood up. “If you’re ready we’ll get some serious shopping done. Groceries last, I think.”

      She would pay for her keep, she thought to herself. He might be letting her sleep at the château, but she didn’t expect anything else.

      After visiting a hardware store, he took her to the third floor of the department store where the mattresses were sold. Alex sought out the male clerk and they conversed in French. Their speech was so rapid she understood nothing. Within a few seconds the younger man looked at her and broke out in a broad smile.

      “I don’t think I want a translation,” she told Alex.

      His lips curved upward. “You don’t need to worry. When he asked me what kind of a mattress we were looking for, I simply asked him if he knew the story of the Princess and the Pea. He said he had the ideal one for you.”

      She tried not to laugh. “I see.”

      The clerk spread his hands in typical French fashion. “Would Mademoiselle like to try it?”

      “She says yes,” Alex spoke for her. They followed the man across the floor to the sample mattresses on display.

      “This one is the best. S’il vous plait. Lie down.”

      “Don’t be shy,” Alex whispered. “He’s not Figaro measuring a space for your marriage bed.”

      An imp got into Dana. “Maybe he thinks he’s measuring yours. Why don’t you try it first and humor him?”

      With enviable calm Alex stretched out on one side of it, putting his hands behind his handsome head. Through shuttered eyes he stared up at her, jump-starting her heart.

      “Venez, mademoiselle.” The clerk patted the other side. “He said you needed a double bed. See how you fit.”

      You said you wanted to spread your wings, Dana Lofgren. But she hadn’t anticipated literally spreading out on a bed next to Alex for all creation to see. Several people on the floor had started watching with embarrassing interest. If she waited any longer, she’d turn this into a minor spectacle.

      Once she’d settled herself full length against the mattress, she turned her head to Alex. “How does it feel against your sore back?”

      He rolled on his side toward her, bringing him breathtakingly close. “You noticed.” His voice sounded deep and seductive just then.

      Afraid he knew that she noticed everything about him, she said, “I think we should take it. Look—even this close to me, the mattress doesn’t dip.”

      “I noticed.” This time when he spoke, she felt his voice reach right down inside to her core. The way his eyes had narrowed on her mouth, she slid off the bed in reaction and got to her feet on shaky legs.

       “Eh bien, mademoiselle?”

      She decided to make his day. “It’s perfect”

      He rubbed his hands together. “Excellent.”

      “Alex? I’ll go to the linen department for the bedding. Meet you at the truck.” Without looking at him, she made her way down to the next floor.

      When the saleswoman asked what Dana had in mind, she described the beamed ceiling. “There’s a mini print wallpaper of gold fleurs-de-lis on a cranberry field. I’d like to follow through with those colors.”

      “I have the exact thing for you.”

      Within minutes Dana left the store with a new pillow, pale cranberry sheets and bath towels with tiny gold fleurs-de-lis, a cranberry duvet and matching pillow sham.

      Alex had reached the truck ahead