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Escape By The Sea. Trish MoreyЧитать онлайн книгу.

Escape By The Sea - Trish Morey


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somewhere public. Sam settled back on her shoulder. ‘A coffee would be fine.’

      He clicked off his phone, cursing softly. So she wouldn’t come to the room. But she had agreed to come. Of course she could have emailed the documents, but then he’d have no way of convincing her to come to the island with him. He could convince her, he had no doubt. Look at how she had all but melted in his arms last night with just one kiss! And once she was back in his bed, she’d get over whatever hang-up she had about coming with him. He was already looking forward to it.

      Because while sex was easy to come by, great sex wasn’t, and last night had definitely registered right up there with the best. And while he’d been content for it to end last night the way it had—it would have ended some time anyway—the opportunity to have her in his bed for another couple of nights held considerable appeal. He could do much worse than sharing his bed with Evelyn.

      He’d soon make it happen. Once she was here, he’d just have to come up with a way to get her up to his suite and convince her how much she wanted to come with him. He’d think of something.

      His phone rang, a glance at the caller ID assuring him it wasn’t Evelyn calling back to change her mind about meeting him.

      ‘Eric,’ he said, relieved, his mind already working on a plan to get Evelyn up to his suite. ‘What can I do for you?’

      But relief died a quick death as Culshaw explained how Maureen was looking to book a day in the island resort’s spa for the women and wanted to know if Evelyn might be interested. Leo knew he had to say something now, in case she refused to change her mind.

      ‘Look, Eric, about Evelyn, you might want to warn Maureen. It seems there’s a slight chance she might not be able to make it after all…’

      ‘I wish I could help, lovey,’ Mrs Willis said, when Evelyn nipped over to ask if she would mind babysitting again, this time only for an hour or so, ‘but my brother Jack’s just had an episode and I promised to go and help Nancy with him. He gets terribly confused, poor love. I was going to pop by and tell you, because I might be away for a few days.’ She stopped folding clothes for a moment, her creased brow folding along time worn lines. ‘I hate leaving you, though, with the hot water not working and no family to help out. Such a tragedy to lose your parents so young and then your granddad. They’ve all missed out on so much, watching you grow up and now Sam.’ She shook her head. ‘Such a pity.’

      ‘I know,’ Eve said softly, feeling a pang of sadness for her grandfather and for parents she could barely remember. ‘But don’t worry. You do too much for me as it is. We’ll be fine. I’ll call Emily down the street. She’s always on the lookout for some extra cash.’

      Except when she called it was to hear Emily was already working a shift at the local supermarket. Which left Evelyn with only one option.

      Not such a bad option, she reflected as she turned onto the freeway and pointed her little city commuter towards the city, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to her earlier. She hadn’t wanted to tell Leo about her child, figuring it was none of his business and that it might prejudice his opinion of her as someone able to handle his workload, but neither did she trust him not to try to change her mind by fair means or foul. And then there was the matter of not trusting her own wayward desires. Look where they’d landed her last night—right in Leo Zamos’s bed. Not to mention his spa bath…

      She shivered, unable to suppress either a secret smile or the delicious shimmy at the memories of his mouth seeking her breasts as he raised her over him, of his hungry mouth at her nipples as he probed her entrance, of the long, hard length of him filling her as he pulled her down on him inch by glorious inch, a shimmy that radiated out from muscles tender and sore and clearly still far too ready to party.

      Oh, no, there was no way she could trust herself with him.

      And if there was one certain way to ensure that there would be no repeats of last night’s performance, it was to take her child along. Leo didn’t do family, and clearly didn’t want one. He’d made that abundantly clear and she was grateful he had. For it had put paid to that tiny creature that insisted on fluttering around inside her despite what she’d known in her head all along to be true. That his interest in her began and finished with sex. There could be no future with him. There was no future for them.

      And with just one look at Sam he’d forget all about wanting to play make-believe with her. One look at Sam and he’d never want to see her again. Which suited her just fine.

       It was foolproof!

      Forty minutes later the doorman helped her unload both her baby stroller and a sleeping Sam startled into wakefulness from the car. She settled him, watching his eyelids flutter closed again, still sleepy from the journey, lowering the back and tucking his favourite bear by his side so he would feel secure and snooze on as long as possible. Soon enough he’d be demanding to get out and explore this new world—she just prayed he’d last until she got him out of the hotel. Not that the meeting should take longer than ten minutes when it was only documents she had to hand over. Probably less, she thought with a smile, doubting Leo would stick around long enough for coffee when he saw what else she’d brought with her.

      She could hardly wait to see his face.

      The subtly lit lounge wasn’t busy, only a few tables occupied this time of the day, couples sharing coffee and secrets, family groups gathered around tables enjoying afternoon tea.

      She found a hotel phone, asked Reception to let Mr Zamos know she was there, and stopped a while in awe to admire, over the balcony, the amazing sweeping stairway that rose grandly from entry level and the water feature that spilled and spouted between levels of the hotel. She must commit this to memory, she thought. It was the place of fairy-tales, of princes and princesses, and not of the real world, and of ordinary people like her who had blown hot water services and frazzled appliances to replace.

      She settled into a booth that offered some degree of privacy, gently rocking the stroller. Sam wasn’t buying it, jerking into wakefulness, this time taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with wide, suspicious eyes.

      ‘It’s okay, Sam,’ she said, reaching for the stash of food she’d brought and had tucked away in the baby bag. ‘We’re visiting, that’s all. And then I’ll take you for a walk along Southbank. You’ll like that. There’s a river and lots of music and birds. Maybe we might even spot you a fish.’

      ‘Fith!’ He grinned, recognising the word as she handed him his favourite board book and he reached for a sultana with the other. ‘Fith!’

      He’d been waiting on the call, all the while working out a strategy that would get her out of the lounge and up into his room. At last he’d hit on the perfect plan, so simple it couldn’t fail. He’d play it cool, accept the documents she’d brought without mention of the trip away and without trying to change her mind, and see her to her car, remembering once they’d got to the lifts something he’d meant to bring down for her—it wouldn’t take a moment to collect it from his suite…

      He hit the second floor with a spring in his step. Oh, he loved it when a plan came together.

      He scanned the lounge for her, skipping over the groups and couples, searching for a single woman sitting no doubt nervously by herself. Had she been able to forget about last night’s love-making yet? He doubted it. Even though the night had ended on a sour note, those flashbacks had kept him awake thinking about it half the night. When Culshaw had mooted this idea of going away for the weekend, he’d initially been appalled. It was bad enough that the closing of the deal had been held up by last night’s dinner, without having to endure still more delays while Culshaw soothed his wife’s wounded soul with an impromptu holiday. Until he’d worked out that he could easily endure a couple of more nights like the last. Very easily.

      And then he saw her sitting with her back to him in a little booth off to one side, her hair twisted high behind her head, making the most of that smooth column of neck. Just the sight of that bare patch of skin sent such a jolt of pure lust surging through him, such a heady burst of memories of


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