Love Redesigned by Sloane B. Collins

herself what he recognized in her. “Would you spend an evening with me?” He held his breath, praying she would agree.
    For long moments, she stared at him. Finally, she nodded.
    Relief swept through him and he wanted to cheer.
    “When?”
    He heard the hesitation in her voice.
    “I have to attend a banquet tomorrow night in Paris. I would very much like to have you accompany me.”
    “I—I can’t go to Paris! It’s a five hour drive each way, and I have so much baking to do.”
    “There is a small airstrip not far from here. Several weeks ago I asked a friend of mine to fly me to Paris tomorrow afternoon, then back the next morning.”
    “You mean spend the night, too? I just told you I don’t think spending the night together is a good idea.”
    “You will have your own room. I would never ask you to do anything you do not want to do.” He couldn’t stop himself from adding, “I will not touch you until you want me to. But it won’t stop me from imagining you in my arms, and in my bed, naked beneath me.”
    Color washed over her cheeks, and she bit her lip, enticing him to soothe the sting. She had no idea how every movement she made was seductive. Every fiber in his body cried out for her to be his once again. He ached to hold her, to show her what she did to him. He wanted to spend hours, days, worshiping her—body, mind, and soul. But if the only way he could be near her was to leave her alone, then he would, and would suffer through it gladly.
    She met his eyes, and he saw the trust. “I know you’d never force me. You’re not that kind of man. I have to be here to get ready for the shower on Tuesday evening. Will you promise me we’ll be back early?”
    “ Oui , I promise.”
    Her gaze dropped to his mouth, almost reluctantly. She traced his lower lip with her index finger, and he held still, refrained from reaching for her again.
    He would show her they were right for each other. He needed to spend time with her, convince her she could trust him not to hurt her.
    She looked out the window. “It’s getting late. If we’re going to be gone so long, I need to do a lot of baking for the shower. Would you please take me home?”
    “As soon as you are ready.”
    She picked up the glasses and carried them to the kitchen. He followed her, thinking she looked so natural in his home. He retrieved her now-dry clothes, and she excused herself to change.
    She met him back in the kitchen a few moments later, and looked out the window. “It’s stopped raining. Can I see the backyard real quick before we go?”
    “Of course.”
    They walked out the kitchen door to the gardens. A path through a canopy of wisteria led the way to the small lake at the edge of the grass. He glanced at her as she stopped, staring at the wisteria dripping above the pathway.
    She walked beneath the canopy of fragrant flowers, her steps slow. She inhaled, the scented air filling her lungs, her breasts lifting. She looked up, reaching for a stem hanging low. Her fingertip lightly touched the fragile purple blossom.
    “I love wisteria,” she murmured.
    He’d loved the wisteria canopy when searching for a house to buy, and that’s what had convinced him he had to have this place. Realization dawned, and his skin prickled, turned cold. Somehow, subconsciously, he’d remembered she loved the flower.
    He’d bought this place for her.

Chapter 10
    The small private jet banked right. Genevieve stared out the window as they flew toward the airport, passing near the Eiffel Tower.
    She was still upset over the argument she and Daniel had the previous afternoon. He’d gone ballistic when she returned from Roman’s house and told him and Connie Sue about her date in Paris.
    “Are you freakin’ crazy?” Daniel had yelled. “After all you’ve been through, you’re going away for the night with him ?”
    “You can’t even say his name, can you? I told you we talked this morning—”
    “That still doesn’t excuse his