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Fern Britton 3-Book Collection: The Holiday Home, A Seaside Affair, A Good Catch. Fern Britton
Читать онлайн.Название Fern Britton 3-Book Collection: The Holiday Home, A Seaside Affair, A Good Catch
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008160104
Автор произведения Fern Britton
Жанр Зарубежные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
Henry raised his hands in a gesture of conciliation. ‘Darling. Why all this now? Let’s finish lunch and then I promise we will talk about this later.’
Eyes brimming with tears, Dorothy pushed aside her plate. ‘I’m not hungry any more.’ She picked up her bag and got to her feet. ‘You may not want to discuss it, Henry, but the fact remains: I am not and never have been your wife. Susan is your wife.’
Henry watched helplessly as she stood and fumbled with her handbag. Finding her sunglasses, she did her best to make a dignified exit.
‘I can’t believe our baby is going to be seventeen in two days’ time, can you?’ Connie was sitting in bed, completing her nightly routine of creaming her feet and hands. She was rubbing vigorously at her cuticles as Greg sat on the bed and lifted his legs under the covers.
‘No. I can’t. Where did the time go? We’re lucky that she’s got this far without doing anything illegal.’
‘That we know of,’ said Connie, screwing the lid back on to the hand-cream tube.
‘Well, she hasn’t got a boyfriend, so we know she’s still innocent in that sense.’
Connie gave a quiet laugh.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ asked Greg.
‘Nothing.’ She turned to face him. ‘But teenage girls are very good at having private lives that remain private.’
‘I would know if she’d been up to anything. I could tell just by looking at her,’ said Greg smugly.
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘OK.’ Connie reached for the bedside light and turned it off. ‘Good night.’
‘Good night.’
In the darkness, with the house settling around them and the dull shush of the unsleeping sea outside their bedroom window, Greg began to worry about Abi and her purity. Connie, on the other hand, smiled a secret smile and closed her eyes, reliving once again her own seventeenth birthday.
She’d been alone in the house – she couldn’t remember why – when there was a knock at the front door. She opened it to find Merlin leaning casually against the porch wall, looking very desirable.
‘Hey, birthday princess. I hear you’ve got the key to the door today?’
‘Not quite,’ Connie had giggled. ‘I’m only seventeen.’
‘Shame – I was going to take you for your first legal drink.’ He had stepped into the hall, uninvited, and closed the door behind him.
Connie felt a shiver of anxiety. ‘Pru’s not here.’
‘It’s you I’ve come to see, birthday girl.’ He leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘It’s very hot outside. Can I have a cold drink?’
‘Yes. Sorry. Come into the kitchen.’
He stood behind her as she opened the fridge door. ‘I’ve got some Coke or orange juice … Milk?’
Laughing, he reached his hand in and pulled out a tin of shandy. ‘This is more like it. But I can’t drink alone – will you join me?’
Connie had tasted a sip of her father’s shandy and wasn’t keen on the flavour, but wanting to appear sophisticated she agreed and got out two glasses.
He took the tins and walked with them into the big drawing room. ‘Quite a house.’ He opened one tin with a hiss and offered it to Connie. She poured it into a glass and then did the same with the second tin. ‘Come and sit on the sofa next to me.’
Connie did as she was asked and he sat down next to her, very close.
‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers.’ They clinked glasses.
Connie wasn’t sure what to say next, but it didn’t seem to matter. Merlin started talking.
‘Like your sister you’re a very ’andsome woman. Different, mind, but I bet you’ve got plenty of admirers an’ all.’
‘Have I?’ She took a quick mouthful of the bittersweet shandy.
‘Don’t pretend you haven’t seen the boys lookin’ at you on the beach.’
Connie, who had hoped this was the case, shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Yeah, an’ some of them ’ave been asking me to put in a good word for them.’
‘Have they?’
‘Oh yeah.’
Connie took another sip and felt its unfamiliar alcohol warmth hit her tummy. ‘Who?’
Merlin laughed and drained his glass. ‘I’ll get us each another one of these, then I’ll tell you.’
When he came back, with two more tins, he sat down next to her and turned his sleepy, sexy blue-green eyes on her. ‘Where were we?’
‘You were going to tell me who had asked about me.’
‘Oh yes.’ He looked from her eyes to her lips and then seemed to shake himself and come back to the question. ‘Well now, there’s all the lifeguards for a start, and there’s … well … there’s someone else.’
Mesmerised by the thickening of the atmosphere between them, Connie murmured, ‘Who else?’
In answer he turned his head slowly to one side so that his nose wouldn’t squash hers and his lips kissed her mouth very gently. As he broke away, he said quietly, ‘Me.’
Connie had never been kissed by a boy before. This was unlike any practising she’d done on her hand or her mirror. This was warm and responsive and sensual and she wanted more.
After a while, Merlin lifted his hand and very gently cupped her breast. As his thumb stroked her nipple, she understood why girls at school were obsessed with discussing sex. She’d felt something similar reading the odd adult book borrowed from a friend, but this was real. A man was kissing her and touching her and wanting her. He took her hand and placed it on the zip of his trousers. He groaned as he pressed her hand down. She realised somehow that this was the point of no return. Either stop now or step into the unknown.
He lifted her hand and pulled her up. ‘How about we go upstairs?’
Her legs felt weak and her breathing was quickening. What should she say? She knew she shouldn’t be doing this. He kissed her again so that she couldn’t speak and when he stopped kissing her, she led him up to her bedroom. It wasn’t long before all thoughts of how wrong this was left her completely.
The memory had reawakened Connie’s libido and she turned in the bed to face her husband. ‘Darling, are you asleep?’
His eyes were closed but his mouth moved. ‘No.’
‘Would you like a cuddle?’
‘Don’t I always?’
*
Next door, Pru and Francis were in bed reading a Kindle and a pamphlet respectively. Francis turned to the back page of the pamphlet. ‘I think we should give Abi a cookery course at the Starfish. It’ll stand her in good stead at uni, when she goes.’
Pru, deep in her Kindle, didn’t reply. Francis tried again: ‘Darling, did you hear me?’
Pru laid her open