The Man Behind the Mask Read Free Page B

unfamiliar with this climate—and after the winter comes the spring, and that is consoling, yes?’
    â€˜I know. I love the spring! So…what are you doing here today? Shopping? Meeting a friend?’
    â€˜Neither. I’ve been visiting an exhibition that is on at the town hall. Surprisingly, there are quite a few places of interest to visit in this quaint little town.’
    â€˜True. It gets quite packed in the summer, believe it or not.’
    â€˜I can believe it.’
    Now, to Marianne’s complete surprise, her companion did smile, and his eyes looked bright as stars for a moment. Something inside her reacted disturbingly strongly to the fact and she felt her skin tighten self-consciously.
    â€˜Yes there are boat trips you can take on the river, and they’re always very popular with the tourists. Anyway…’
    Coming to the end of her coffee, Marianne stood the empty cup on the pavement behind her, then picked up the guitar that lay in its open black case on the ground beside it. Surprised that such an urbane, clearly wealthy man as Eduardo de Souza would even bother to introduce himself to a girl like her—particularly in such unusual cir cum stances—she couldn’t help but be cautious. But then, as she glanced at that movie-star-handsome face and the commanding physique the cashmere coat he wore hinted at, it seemed unlikely that his intent was anything other than to pass the time of day with her.Anything else would be preposterous. They’d had a bit of an exchange before, and he was merely being polite, she told herself.
    â€˜I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to get back to what I’m here for.’ Removing her gloves, Marianne strummed a few chords to tune her guitar. A group of visiting French students passing by just then momentarily peered at her with interest. As for her handsome visitor, he stubbornly remained where he stood, apparently in no hurry to leave.
    â€˜Next time…when I am in town…perhaps you would allow me to buy you lunch?’ he suggested.
    Marianne blinked. Even the idea of sitting in some smart little restaurant opposite this man for an hour or more made her go hot and cold. For a start, what would they possibly have in common to talk about? ‘Thank you, but no,’ she answered quickly. ‘I don’t really do lunch when I’m working’
    â€˜You mean you do not take a break to eat?’ He sounded amused.
    â€˜I do take a break, but only to have coffee and sometimes maybe a croissant or a muffin…I have my main meal in the evening…when I get home.’
    â€˜Then how about I buy you coffee and cake instead?’
    No reason to refuse him coming help fully to mind, Marianne nodded un com fort ably. ‘Okay. Now, I really have to get back to this.’
    â€˜Then I will say goodbye, Marianne.’ He briefly inclined his head, his expression inscrutable. ‘Until next time.’
    Â 
    â€˜Next time’ turned out to be two days later. Having endured an icy shower of rain and sleet combined for the previous hour, huddled beneath an inadequate umbrella instead of playing her guitar, Marianne had seriously thought about packing up and calling it a day. But then the sun came out, the freezing cold shower subsided, and as if by magic Eduardo De Souza appeared. He was dressed in his stylish cashmere coat, with a matching scarf draped casually round his neck, and his attire seemed much more suitable for the premiere of a theatre production rather than a casual visit to town.
    â€˜Hello.’ He smiled, his rich voice sounding a little huskier than she remembered. Realising that for the past two days she had sub consciously been looking out for him, her heart thudding with what felt ridiculously like excited anticipation whenever his image crossed her mind, Marianne struggled to make her response sound natural.
    â€˜Hi…’ she mumbled, standing back to shake the