Free For Both Are Infinite (Hearts in London Book 1) by Stephanie Alba Page A

watery enough to prove I affected him. I knew the feeling; whenever Rhys was around my smile was prevalent no matter how much I attempted hiding it. I blushed, my stomach in a tight knot as he assessed my appearance from head to toe, and the longer he stared, the more I assumed I had a stain on my outfit, or lipstick on my teeth, anything that would explain his hypnotic stare.
    He cleared his throat and clumsily said, “You look lovely.”
    Self conscious, but completely delighted, I looked down and whispered, “Thank you.”
    “Please, come in. I’m thrilled you’re here first. I want to show you around.”
    Rhys extended his hand towards me to help me step in. I had worn my unstable nude pumps, but I gladly took his hand for other reasons. It was soft and warm, and my nerve endings charged upon his touch. Holding it felt intimate given his celebrity status, but especially since I hadn’t held a man’s hand in two years. He released it nervously once inside and I couldn’t help appreciating that someone that confident was unraveled by having me in their home.
    “You look nice, too,” I offered hoping to ease the tension, but I meant it.
    Rhys always looked so at ease in his own skin. He was wearing perfectly tailored black dress pants with a white shirt beneath a black and gray cardigan. It was strikingly handsome on him, and he grinned like a pleased adolescent. I couldn’t get enough of it.
    He looked back at me. “How about a tour?”
    If I thought the house was beautiful outside, I had no idea what was coming. His living and media area was surrounded by plain white walls, but the floors were high caliber dark wood that matched the beams on the ceiling. It gave a rustic and cozy feel to the house only exemplified by the bookshelves in every room. I was tempted to scour the titles, but he kept leading me to another room with more bookshelves and pieces of himself. The kitchen was modern, again with all white cabinets, and top of the line appliances.
    When we went upstairs, Rhys held my hand again and it invigorated my heart, making it beat faster, the pressure tightening in my chest deliciously. He led me to his room, anxiety taking over that I was going into his bedroom, but it was so cozy, my tension melted away. The beams matched the ones downstairs, leading up to arched ceilings and a small skylight above his king-sized bed.
    I had simultaneous thoughts of what he looked like in that bed, and how lonely it must be to have all that empty space. But maybe only someone with my past would think of that. After showing me his closet and bathroom that were too large for one person, he lead me to the guest rooms and his office, all of which had bookshelves in them crowded to capacity.
    “You have so many…” I said, brushing my hand against the spines.
    “I collect them. I figure they’re snapshots of who I was when I read them - a sort of time capsule.”
    I didn’t respond, instead admiring him in his own element, enjoying the fact that he studied me during the entire tour. I knew he was processing my impression, and I’d decided his house suited him perfectly. It was elegant and refined, but welcoming, just like him. The doorbell rang and brought us out of our stare. “That’ll be the boys,” he said, leading me back downstairs. Rhys showed me to his yard where I sat and waited for their return.
    John came out first and kissed my cheek, and after pulling away he looked at me and said, “You look fantastic, something’s different.”
    “This dress is new.”
    “It’s not that,” he said contemplating. But before he could place it, Rhys came back out to fetch us for dinner.
    He was different, his expression morose and serious and I wondered what had changed in mere moments. We sat opposite from each other at the table, and throughout dinner I could see disappointment in his eyes; they weren’t smiling and even when he looked at me they still seemed pining.
    We ate a delicious three course Asian