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Witchchild. Кэрол МортимерЧитать онлайн книгу.

Witchchild - Кэрол Мортимер


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would cope with the baby, even though it was the first time she had been left on her own with her. She and Laura had shared Holly’s care from the day she came home, there was nothing different about it just because she was on her own. There was always June to call if she got into difficulties, their housekeeper having had a child of her own years ago. She could do it!

      She must have fallen asleep in the warm sunshine, because the next thing she knew June was gently shaking her shoulder to wake her.

      ‘What is it?’ She immediately shot into a sitting position. ‘Is it the baby? What—–’

      ‘Calm down,’ June chuckled softly; she was a gently rounded woman with laughing brown eyes and peppered brown hair that refused to be anything but flyaway; Leonie and Laura had liked her immediately when she came for her interview, and she had moved into the house with them within a few days. It was a move none of them seemed to have regretted. ‘I only came to tell you that there’s a visitor.’

      Leonie blinked to clear her brain of the fogging she so detested about the daytime naps she couldn’t seem to get out of since coming home from hospital. She took a sip of the lemonade to rinse out her mouth and moisten her lips. ‘Who is it?’

      ‘Mr Sinclair,’ June told her. ‘He asked for Laura, but I—–’

      ‘Hal!’ Leonie cried excitedly, feeling a sudden surge of energy. He had come home from Acapulco to pay Laura a surprise visit! Or perhaps he had even decided to end this nonsense and come to tell Laura she was marrying him right away; she doubted Laura would still insist they wait after the agony of the last six weeks’ loneliness.

      ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you,’ drawled a familiarly mocking voice. ‘But as far as I’m aware Hal is still in Acapulco!’

      Leonie looked up to meet Hawk Sinclair’s derisive gaze with a feeling of dread, the energy of moments ago draining just as suddenly as it had arrived.

      She looked so delicate lying there, her skin almost translucent against the shimmering brightness of her hair. All the laughter had gone from her eyes, her cheeks were drawn and hollow, the impish tilt to her chin completely gone too. What the hell had happened to her in the last nine months?

      What was he doing here? thought Hawk. He had seen Hal only two days ago, and although his son was resentful he was still determined; he was going to claim Laura Brandon at the end of the year. And so Hawk had come here today to admit defeat, to admit, if Laura still felt the same way, that he had been wrong!

      His life had been shot to pieces over the last nine months. Hal was barely civil to him, the business no longer held the appeal for him that it always had, and just yesterday Jake had given him the three months’ notice his contract required. After almost sixteen years Jake was walking out on him; he hadn’t been able to believe it. Jake claimed he wanted to do other things with his life when Hawk pushed him for a reason. What other things? The hotel business was of more interest to Jake than it was to Hawk, and the shares he possessed in HS Hotels had meant he always looked after that interest. Yesterday Jake had offered him those shares with his resignation!

      And through the whole of the last nine months he hadn’t been able to get this sprite out of his mind! It was stupid, insane, and he had told himself so a million times, but the memory of her persisted.

      And now he found her looking like a shadow of her former self, as if a strong breeze might knock her off her feet and on to that tight little bottom he found it so dangerous to think about—and which had never been far from his thoughts all these months!

      The cats were still the same, though, Pop stretched out on her legs, next to the ginger tabby and black cat, the two he hadn’t seen on his last visit, and so the cat lying at her feet, the ginger tabby, had to be either Pansy or Daffodil. Hawk found it totally out of character that he had remembered the cats’ names, but then when had he acted in character since meeting Leonie Spencer!

      She didn’t look very welcoming, but after what he had done, who could blame her? Maybe if he told her he had come to make peace and not war—!

      ‘Thanks, June,’ she dismissed the housekeeper who was a new acquisition. ‘Mr Sinclair and I can manage now.’

      Manage? She looked as if lifting that glass of lemonade to her lips might snap her slender wrist in two!

      She wasn’t exactly beautiful, nothing at all like the sophisticates he was usually attracted to, but she had possessed an impish charm that had made it impossible for him to put her from his mind. Something had happened to her during the last nine months to rob her of even that.

      Despite what she had told him about Laura that day he had believed Leonie to be the stronger of the two, the way she had jumped so ably to her sister’s defence reminding him of a cat with its kitten. Laura had come as something of a surprise to him, not just because she was an exact copy of Leonie but because her strength had been of a different kind; the certainty of knowing her own mind, her own feelings, and of instilling confidence in those around her to believe she did. If he hadn’t been so damned mad by the time he did meet her he would probably have respected that strength and entrusted Hal’s future happiness to her more than capable hands!

      As it had turned out he had been unreasonable, his anger out of all proportion to the situation, asking more from them than he had the right to. Only Laura’s calm acceptance of waiting a year, her determination that they should, had prevented him from losing Hal right then and there.

      Hal had argued, though, and he hadn’t stopped arguing, only his love for Laura keeping him to the promise they had both made. Hawk knew damn well it had nothing to do with respecting his wishes!

      He had behaved like a damned fool, and in the end it had had little to do with Hal and Laura—and everything to do with this woman who was barely recognisable as the fighting bantam hen she had appeared then.

      What had happened to her? Was she ill? Dying…?

      Why didn’t he say something? thought Leonie. What was he doing here? There were still three months to go before Laura would finally agree to marry Hal. Oh God, nothing had happened to Hal, had it?

      The colour drained from her hollowed cheeks. ‘Is it Hal—–’

      ‘I told you, he’s in Acapulco,’ rasped Hawk. ‘What’s happened to you?’

      She sat back self-consciously, aware of her scarecrow thinness. ‘I’ve been ill—–’

      ‘You still are, by the look of you!’ He looked her over critically.

      The same couldn’t be said for him; he looked as healthy as ever, his skin tanned darkly brown. He was lithe and virile in the light blue shirt that somehow managed to make his eyes appear the same colour, and fitted denims that moulded the firm contours of his legs and thighs. He exuded leashed vitality, making a mockery of the reference she had once made to his age; he was fitter than many men half his age.

      ‘You should have seen me when I first came out of hospital,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘Then you would see how improved I am.’

      His eyes were narrowed. ‘What was wrong with you?’

      She gave him a cool look. ‘I don’t believe that’s any of your business—you aren’t a member of this family yet!’

      ‘If you were that ill Laura should have told us,’ he bit out harshly.

      ‘Why?’

      His expression darkened. ‘Are you really getting better?’

      ‘Really,’ Leonie confirmed dryly, wondering what all the fuss was about. The last time they had seen him he had given the impression that he didn’t care if both she and Laura disappeared off the face of the earth!

      The inclination of his head seemed to say he was satisfied with her explanation—for now. ‘I see there’s a series of Winnie Cooper stories by Leonaura Brandon planned to be shown on television in the States in the winter.’

      Good


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