The Perfect Match. Debbie MacomberЧитать онлайн книгу.
kissed.
Several minutes later, still shaking, Janine got up and undressed. She slid under the blankets and tried to find a relaxing position. But she didn’t feel like sleeping. Tomorrow she’d have to make polite conversation with Zach and she didn’t know if she could bear it. She was sure he’d feel just as uncomfortable with her. She’d seen how he could barely look at her when they entered the inn.
Tossing aside the blankets, Janine decided she had only one option. She’d leave Scotland, the sooner the better. Grabbing the phone, she called the airport, booked a seat on the earliest flight home and immediately set about packing her bags.
Not bothering to even try to sleep, she crept down the stairs a little before midnight and checked out.
“You’re leaving sooner than you expected, aren’t you, Miss Hartman?” the night manager asked after calling for a cab.
“Yes,” she said.
“I hope everything was satisfactory?”
“It was wonderful.” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her purse and placed it on the counter. “Would you see to it that Mr. Thomas receives this in the morning?”
“Of course.” The young man tucked it in a small cubbyhole behind him.
Satisfied that Zach would know she was leaving and wouldn’t be concerned by her hurried return to Seattle, she sat in a chair in the small lobby to wait for her cab.
About fifteen minutes later, Janine watched silently as the cabdriver stowed her luggage in the trunk. She paused before climbing in the backseat of the car and glanced one last time at the muted moonlit landscape, disappointed that she wouldn’t have an opportunity to visit the cliffs.
The ride to the airport seemed to take an eternity. She felt a burning sense of regret at leaving Scotland. She’d fallen in love with the country during her short visit and hoped someday to return. Although the memory of her evening stroll through the garden would always bring with it a certain chagrin, she couldn’t completely regret that time with Zach. In fact, she’d always remember the fleeting sense of contentment she’d felt in his arms.
Janine arrived at the airport long before her flight was scheduled to leave. She spent an hour drinking coffee and leafing through fashion magazines, several of which she took with her to give to Pam later.
A cup of coffee in one hand, she approached the airline counter with her passport in the other. The bag she had draped over her shoulder accidentally collided with the man standing next to her. An automatic apology formed on her lips, but before she could voice it, that same man turned to face her.
“Zach,” she cried, nearly dropping her coffee in shock. “What are you doing here?”
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