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The High Price of Secrets. Yvonne Lindsay
Читать онлайн.Название The High Price of Secrets
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472006608
Автор произведения Yvonne Lindsay
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
“Are you just passing through town?” asked the store clerk. Tamsyn looked at her, suddenly struck by the realization that the woman was probably around the same age as her mother. In fact, there were so many people around—on the street, in the shops—who were all around that age. Surely, amongst them, would be some of her mother’s friends.
“I’m here a few days at least, although I might stay longer if I can. I’m...” She hesitated a moment and then decided, in for a penny, in for a pound. If she didn’t start asking every person she met if they knew her mom, she’d never find out, would she? “I’m looking for my mother. Ellen Masters. Do you know her?”
The other woman shook her head slowly and pursed her lips. “Hmm, Ellen Masters...no. Can’t say I’ve met anyone by that name around here, but I’m fairly new in the region and I’m still getting to know all the locals.”
“Never mind,” Tamsyn said pasting a smile over the pang of disappointment that tugged at her heart. It was a numbers game. Eventually she’d find someone who knew her. Didn’t New Zealanders pride themselves on the fact that there were only two degrees of separation between them and a fellow Kiwi? “It was a wild shot.”
“Well, good luck finding her and do come back soon!”
Tamsyn gathered her things and started to walk back to her car. Even with this small latest setback she still felt more positive. Just before she reached her car she stopped and perused the window of a real estate office that appeared to double as a letting agency and an idea occurred to her. If she found a place to rent she could set herself up more permanently here and could use the property as a base from which to widen her search. She scanned the listings in the window and an address caught her eye. It was on the same road as Finn Gallagher’s property, fairly close, too, if the street number was any indicator.
A coil of something she couldn’t quite identify curled tight in her stomach as she read the details. It was a short-term lease on a week-by-week basis. She could see why it was still available. Not many people would want the insecurity of week-by-week rental, but it suited her just perfectly and as a bonus it was fully furnished. All she’d need to do was feed the cat and the chickens on the property. She could do that. She pushed open the door to the agency, coming out twenty minutes later with an agreement in one hand, a key in the other and an excitement roiling in her she barely knew how to contain.
A late-model Porsche Cayenne, a Turbo S model, she noted with some appreciation, stood in the driveway when she returned to the hotel. No doubt Finn’s, she thought as she took a quick look at the dashboard clock on her rental. The side trip to the property agency had made her late, but right now she didn’t care. From tomorrow she had somewhere of her own to stay. Things were falling into place and who knew? Maybe the next person she saw would be someone who could tell her where to find her mother.
* * *
Finn watched from the office window as Tamsyn alighted from her car. Even from here he could tell she was excited. There was a light and energy about her now that had been missing yesterday and this morning. It served to make her even more beautiful.
He tamped down on the shiver of desire that threatened to ripple through his body. If he was going to control this situation he’d have to start by controlling himself. Errant physical attractions would only complicate things. And as complications went, getting a call from the leasing agent handling Lorenzo and Ellen’s cottage to say a certain princess from Australia was interested in taking up the short-term leasing option was a big one.
As tempting as it had been to say an absolute and resounding no when the agent had queried him about the lease, especially as the leasee had no references, he’d been mindful of Lorenzo’s wish to keep Tamsyn close for Ellen’s sake. How much easier would it be to keep an eye on her if she was just down the hill from where he lived?
Of course, he reminded himself, there was the bonus of him not having to feed Ellen’s man-eating black cat, Lucy—short for Lucifer. A singularly appropriate moniker Finn had always privately thought. He hadn’t had a morning yet where the feisty feline hadn’t delivered him a scathing hiss or a barbed paw.
Plus, he knew for a fact that Lorenzo and Ellen’s personal effects and identifying items had all been packed away in Alexis’s old bedroom and a new lock put on the door to ensure that while renters made use of the house, their private things remained just that, private. He’d done it himself after Lorenzo had accompanied Ellen to Wellington. What harm could come from having Tamsyn literally under his eye?
“Looks like she’s been shopping,” he commented as he watched Tamsyn pull several shopping bags and a small wheeled suitcase from the trunk of her car.
“And not just in Blenheim. That pink bag, that’s from a local store,” Penny commented from behind him.
“Damn. I thought you directed her to Blenheim for what she needed.”
“I did, but honestly, Finn, you can’t expect to control her every movement.”
Oh, can’t I? “More’s the pity,” he growled, stepping away from the window before Tamsyn could see her spying on him.
Penny laughed. “She obviously found our nearby center all on her own, and from the look of things she’s boosted the local economy in the bargain. I’m pretty sure that’s one of Alexis’s designs she’s wearing right now and you and I both know they don’t come cheap.”
Finn stifled a groan. What were the odds that Tamsyn Masters would walk out the door here this morning and come back wearing a dress designed by her half sister? A sister she didn’t even know she had—and probably wouldn’t, ever, if he succeeded in keeping Tamsyn in the dark as he’d promised. He needed to hold it together, for Lorenzo’s sake. The man had stepped in and helped him when his whole world shattered apart when he was only twelve years old. Now Lorenzo’s world was imploding and it was up to Finn to return the favor.
At the sound of her heels clicking on the polished wooden hall floor he spun away from the window and went out to greet her.
“Oh, hello!” Tamsyn said, coming to an abrupt halt as he exited the office right in front of her.
A waft of her fragrance drifted around him. Something with flowers, fruit and a hint of spice. Something that sent reason fleeing from his mind and a crazy desire to lean forward and inhale more deeply driving through his body.
“Sorry I’m late,” she continued, oblivious to the tug-of-war going on in Finn’s mind, not to mention the tug of something else far lower down in his body. “I’ll only be a minute. Just let me put these things in my room and I’m all yours.”
All his? Somehow he doubted that. But it certainly promised to be interesting finding out, he thought with a smile as he watched her graceful departure.
Gone was the wounded creature who had been at his front door last night. Gone was the troubled but determined young woman who’d arrived in the dining room this morning. In her place was charming, confident sex on legs, and very beautiful legs they were, too, he admitted as he admired the slim turn of her ankle and the slender, yet shapely, calf muscles heading in the opposite direction on a pair of colored icepicks that defied logic and gravity in one, literally, easy step.
He shook himself out of his daze as she disappeared from view. Just as well, he thought, or he might even have been tempted to follow her.
True to her word, she was back in only a few minutes, delivering him a shy smile as she returned.
“All ready?” he asked, his mouth drying as he studied her anew.
The purple of the dress did something striking to her brown eyes, reminding him of pansies. Bold, yet fragile at the same time. God, he groaned inwardly. What the hell was wrong with him? Next he’d be acting like some crush-struck teenager.
“I certainly am,” she replied, falling in alongside him as he headed for the door. “Where