Zoya Hart has been eluding her gold-digging stepmother for the last few years. Knowing that this woman will do anything to gain control of her and her late father's company, Zoya finds herself hiding out on a farm. Now, with a PI on her trail, Zoya'...
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Flynn waited until Zoya left for work before he came from his room. Last night, he'd told Roman and Ophelia not to say anything to her about extending their visit. From the way she'd acted when he asked about Mariana, he got the idea Zoya knew about the summer fling he and Mariana had years ago. The word stopped him. Was that all it had been? No. It'd been much more, but the timing had been wrong.
He'd had a full scholarship and a long distance relationship wasn't feasible. The thing he regretted most was he'd not explained that. But he'd tried. Every time he'd visited Arcadia, but somehow Mariana was always out of town. He thought for sure he'd see her at Charamel's funeral, but again, she'd been a no-show. She probably hated him and he couldn't blame her. Back then, he'd not had enough experience to handle the situation, but he did now and hoped to make things right.
He smiled. Funny how'd he'd accepted that in the last few days. Roman had assured him it would all work out. He hoped his step brother was right, but given his own track record, it might take a while. Roman's life was finally good, but he'd gone through hell to get here. Flynn would like to avoid that route if possible.
A bee buzzed around his head and brought him back to the route he was currently following. Even as a boy, walking through these woods calmed him. The cool morning air. Sunlight winking through the trees. The sounds of the forest. Man, how he wished to go back to those carefree days if only for a little while.
His social calendar, planned by Céline, exhausted him. Last month, he'd attended opening night of the ballet, an animal lovers' black-tie event, student museum fashion show, cancer foundation fundraiser, along with ten other worthy causes. The more he got involved, the more he realized he didn't belong in her circle.
Mariana's workshop came into view. He'd played this scene out in his head a thousand times, but now his stomach knotted. Who was he kidding? With her beauty and fiery spirit, she'd probably had a dozen lovers since him. No way would she'd still be carrying a torch or a grudge.
He swung the door wide. She looked up, and her breath caught. The same sound she'd always made years ago, right before she came apart in his arms. God. She was even more beautiful than he remembered.
"Hey, Mariana." He had hoped for nonchalant, but came out as a pre-pubescent squeak.
"Flynn. What are you doing here?" She wouldn't meet his eye, determined to appear as unaffected as she sounded, despite the sound of rushing water in her ears.
She was busy mixing something in a bowl. Bottles of different sizes lined the counter. Since Zoya had mentioned a goat milk venture, he figured they had to do with that. The place smelled like lavender and something else. Coconut. Not the Mariana he'd remembered, who was always smelled like gasoline or fancy leather in a new car.
From what he heard, the soap thing was to raise money for her own garage. It irked him girls like Mariana worked every day of their lives for something they wanted, all fire and clenched teeth to get ahead, whereas Céline and her ilk had everything handed to them and worked for nothing. "Ophelia and I came to visit Roman."
