An Heiress on His Doorstep. Teresa Southwick
I’m a creative person.” She stood in front of his desk and tapped a finger against her lips. “I’ve been giving it some thought. And I think maybe I do something with interior design and decoration.”
“Really?” He leaned back in his tufted leather chair and studied her.
“I think I had one of those memory bursts your mother mentioned.” Her gaze swung in a semicircle and touched on elements of the room. “Just looking around this house, ideas are coming to me—material swatches, paint chips, traffic patterns, rearranging furniture. I have a very strong sense that I do decorating for a living. So there may be some truth in what your mother says about a connection between R and R and memory recovery.”
“I see.”
“And by the way, I didn’t whack her. She said when I saw you to tell you she forgot about a doctor’s appointment. It’s her yearly checkup and you shouldn’t worry. And if her doctor is running as late as usual, she’ll probably stay at a hotel in town.”
Just like Audrey to take in a stray and leave everything to him. J.P. sighed. “Well, here we are then.”
“Yes.” She glanced at the bookshelves. “This room reminds me of the scene in Beauty and the Beast when Belle goes into the library for the first time.”
“Another memory flash?” he asked.
“Apparently. Speaking of the beast,” she said, her gaze narrowing on him. “Are you always so warm and inviting?”
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