Weekenders Romance
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Author: Serena Fairfax
Genre: Mainstream Romance
Blurb:
Francesca
faces a dilemma. She’s an art dealer in an upscale London gallery and can’t
avoid meeting Rafe, a celebrity American painter who’s in London to exhibit his
work and whom she’d known in Italy years earlier. He’d befriended her in
Florence where she was attending a culture course, but their burgeoning romance
had been abruptly terminated by his sudden and unexplained return to New York. Hurt
by his apparent rejection, Francesca is now determined to back off him, but
fate deals an unexpected hand in the shape of an old friend Sandro, an Old
Master and a new surprise at Rafe's exhibition.
Enchanting Excerpt:
Francesca saw
instantly that the chair was too low to be comfortable for his height, his long
legs encased in designer jeans jack-knifed against his jaw. Brushing back a
strand of her straight, fine blonde hair, she hurried towards him from her tiny
office at the rear of Craig Fine Arts - a Bond Street art gallery. He was
straight off a red-eye flight. She hadn't expected him until much later when,
with her boss Alec Craig, the gallery's founder, they would discuss business
with him over a leisurely lunch. But he’s here now and far too early. Francesca
steeled herself for the encounter.
'Rafe Rostov.' He uncoiled his lean, powerful body
at six feet topping her by several inches. I'm meeting with Alec Craig.' The
voice was a deep, eastern seaboard drawl and long forgotten echoes from the
past rushing back reminded her how soft-almost seductive - it could sound.
Francesca held out her hand. 'Did you have a nice
flight? She took refuge in the usual pleasantries. Her level voice surprised
her as her gaze met those cobalt blue eyes that flickered appraisingly
over her slim figure, registering the tender curve of the mouth below gypsy
brown eyes, the clean line of chin and the soft color in the high cheek
bones.
She kept her face composed but her body tensed with the bittersweet of
reunion and her heart began to race wildly. She hadn't set eyes on him for nine
years, since she was seventeen. But that gut wrenching feeling was back even
though he'd altered considerably, his height now carried with easy assurance,
the smart-casual designer wear that spoke of success - the ungainly youth now a
lionized sophisticate whose paintings adorned the homes of Texan oil barons and
discriminating international collectors.
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