Love and Splendor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 5 Read Online Free

oval mirror above the table.
    Lurline, hovering nearby, pressed her hands together in delight. “Oh, mademoiselle , you are lovely, as always, like a breath of fresh air on a spring morning.”
    Dani thanked her for such a dramatic compliment and continued to stare at her reflection thoughtfully. She had but one photograph of her mother, and that was in the tiny gold locket she wore about her neck. Her Grandfather Barbeau had given it to her when she was a child, and it was her most cherished possession. But back in Kentucky, in the short time she lived there before Aunt Alaina married and they moved away, she had spent long hours standing before the huge life-size painting of her mother which had hung in the parlor, memorizing every detail.
    Her mother, she recalled, had been tall, as was she. Her hair was also chestnut, and her eyes brown. Yet, she could also see a part of her father in the reflection before her, in the thick lashes, the curve of her jaw.
    Men said she was beautiful. She wondered if she truly was, then laughed to herself with a touch of vanity and decided maybe she was attractive after all.
    There was a knock on the door, and Lurline hurried to respond.
    She returned with a dozen long-stemmed red roses cradled in her arms and, smiling knowingly, declared, “They are from Monsieur Perrine Ribaudt. Shall I read the card?”
    Dani’s retort was sharp, almost angry. “No! I’ll read it later. I’m late for breakfast.”
    With a swish of her skirts, she moved by Lurline, who stared after her in bewilderment.
    Glass doors opened from the dining room onto a sprawling terrace of marble. Overhead, the roof was camouflaged by a canopy of entwining vines and fragrant jasmine blossoms. Beyond the terrace, streams of buttery-gold sunshine made their way through leafy trees to tease and tantalize the bubbling diamonds birthed by the ornate fountain, situated amid Kitty’s prize lilies.
    A narrow, shrub-lined path led from the fountain into the beauteous interior of the gardens. Melodious song rose from the variety of birds attracted to the meticulously cared-for landscaping. Butterflies of every kind and color flitted among the numerous flowers, oblivious to the humming of civilization just beyond the thick, protective hedge lining the busy Rue de Bordeaux.
    The mansion afforded the Coltranes by the government was conveniently, and attractively, situated on a knoll that bestowed a splendorous view of the Porte de la Tournelle to the northeast.
    Dani loved the scene before her but most of all, she reflected with a gentle skip of her heart, she loved the man seated at the round glass table on the terrace.
    Maturity of years had not robbed Travis Coltrane of his build or stature. He was still ramrod straight and tall, with broad shoulders and firm, corded muscles in his arms and thighs. His steel-gray eyes glowed with the mysterious fires of a man keenly intelligent, attuned to adversary and admirer alike. And the touch of silver at his temples merely added to his allure.
    Travis Coltrane was still a strikingly handsome man, who turned the appreciative eye of every woman he passed. And he was her father, Dani thought with glowing pride.
    She hurried onto the terrace and went to stand behind him, wrapping her arms around him in a fond embrace. Bestowing a kiss on the top of his head, she said, “ Bonjour , Poppa.”
    Travis reached up to wrap his fingers around her wrist in a returning embrace. “Poppa, indeed,” he scoffed. “That sounds like one of those old men wool-gathering in front of the Square du Vert-Galant. Do I remind you of them?”
    She shook her head merrily. “Of course not.” She gave a mock sigh. “Very well, then— bonjour , Father!”
    “That’s more like it.” Then softly, fondly, he murmured, “Good morning, lovely daughter.” He was warmly grateful for the closeness spawned between them in the past year.
    She sat down next to him, waving away his offer of the silver tray of warm,