The Canvas of Longing
Hannah Fanqiu
But when Tristan asks her to find a painting for the empty wall of his new house, it quickly becomes clear that it’s not just his home that’s been barren since their separation. His heart, too, has been empty, longing for the one thing he’s been missing all these years.
She nodded, about to follow her father when her body went rigid. Tristan stood silently in the doorway, watching her. He was even more devastatingly handsome than she remembered. Taller, broader, with that air of authority that had always made her weak. His presence dominated the room—dark, commanding, with eyes as sharp and piercing as ever. And those eyes locked onto hers, making her heart stutter painfully in her chest.
He’d changed, yes. The years had sharpened him, worn away any of the warmth she had once associated with him. But in some ways, he was exactly the dangerously alluring, exuding raw masculinity. How long had he been standing there?
“The prodigal daughter returns,” Tristan said dryly, and Adelaide knew immediately that dealing with him was going to be a challenge.
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