Mirage Beyond Flames (Coriola) Read Online Free Page B

Mirage Beyond Flames (Coriola)
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catch a cold.”
    So saying, he took a wet strand of h er hair between his fingers and with a slow, fluid motion, lifted it to his lips, deeply inhaling her subtle scent.
    Linda watched him, seemingly not being able to escape his mesmerizing gaze, so intense he felt it could penetrate a wall. After a moment, she took a deep breath and said:
    “I think y ou’ll be fine until I get back.”
    She turned and walked out, climbing the stairs fast, clutc hing her towel with one hand, the sunglasses and flower with the other.
     
    * * *
     
    Once she reached the bedroom, she put the rose in a vase filled with water, then started to dry her hair, fully enjoying the hair-drier’s hot blast warming her skin.
    Inwardly, she knew she was trying to postpone as much as possible the moment she had to go downstairs and face Gerard, sit next to him, find conversation topics. The reasons of this delay weren’t too clear though.
    He’s an extremely attractive guy, fig hting for the same cause as you. He’s intelligent, educated, he looks extraordinary. He can melt you with a single glance, so what’s the damned problem? she asked her conscience.
    But she knew the problem v ery well. Her reluctance toward all the commitments a relationship involved, the fact she wasn’t disposed to give up a single ounce from her so-hard-earned freedom and independence… Above all, she privately knew if she started a relationship with this man, no matter how emotionally detached she’d try to be, it would have been impossible not to fall in love with him. And if he wouldn’t have shared her feelings, her heart would have been broken. On the other hand, if he’d feel the same, surely Gerard would want more: marriage, commitments, responsibilities – things which Linda had convinced herself she didn’t want in her life, at least not too soon.
    They all want this, sooner or later.
    She sighed deeply and began brushing her long ha ir, then put on a black cotton T-shirt and sweat pants. With her bare feet engulfed in fluffy pink slippers, she descended the stairs to the living room.
    Gerard was waiting for her on the sofa, in front of the TV, scratching Pirata’s chin, while the cat was purring noisily and his nose twitched toward t he two hot chocolate mugs on the coffee table.
    He spotted her and, with a gesture, invited her to join him.
    “I se e you’ve made yourself at home,” she remarked and sat, taking Pirata in her arms.
    Gerard placed one of the mugs in her hand.
    “You have a very comfortable house and a really cute companion,” he said, sipping the flavored liquid from his own mug. “How do you like London in summer?”
    She sampled the chocolate – which was excellent – then took off her slippers and sat cozily, with her feet under her.
    “Generally it’s a tad too cloudy and wet, I was used to Ital y’s sun, but I adapt quickly.”
    “Then how come you moved here?”
    “Here I found two art galleries very interested in my work and, as a bonus, I have the chance to get involved more in helping the clinic, more than I could manage from a distance. My mother and brother also make donations to a few clinics and hospitals in Rome. My mother gets involved more in these activities, but Giovanni, my brother, doesn’t have time, he just signs the pay checks.”
    Gerard smiled.
    “That is very generous of you all, I understand you’re coming from a family of philanthropists. Tell me about them.”
    “Wel l, there’s nothing much to tell. My mother, Giovanna, lives in Rome, with her new husband, Fabrizzio Angeli. He’s six years younger than her and has a considerable fortune – I made a bet with Giovanni that in two years she’s gonna bankruptcy him.”
    Gerard laughed and she resumed, smiling:
    “My father, Vincente, is a painter. Currently he resides in the isle of Crete, with Ariadna, a creature with a nymph’s body and a pigeon’s brain, younger than myself. I could say we’re quite a degenerated family,” she joked,
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