Amber Pascoe came to a stop outside her Parnell villa, breathing hard from a last 100 metre dash after a long jog around the city pavements. Her mind was in turmoil. Hours earlier, she had received some news that had sent her into a tail spin. She couldn’t concentrate and in the end she had left her young assistant in charge of the salon and come home early. The exercise was good. At least it had helped her focus on something else for a short while. But the feeling of terror that had gripped her, when she was told of Dom Brodie’s reappearence in the country, was real and she couldn’t seem to shake a strong feeling of foreboding. It was nothing, she kept telling herself as she swayed her upper body from side to side, waiting for her breathing to return to normal. She was still trying to convince herself that she had nothing to worry about when a neighbor’s car pulled out from a nearby drive. She returned the driver’s wave and, after a few more sways, bent from the waist so that her fingertips brushed against the concrete pavement.
Moments later, as she hung there, swaying, as her body cooled and stretched, a car pulled against the kerb just ahead of her. There was the soft `click’ of a door closing, followed by an electronic bleep and footsteps moving across the pavement. Although all she could see was a pair of jeans-clad legs walking in her direction, she would know that confident walk anywhere.
She tried to stand but couldn’t move. What was he doing here? Her heart set up a painful tattoo in her breast as he neared and she still couldn’t stand. She couldn’t believe this – it was like living her worst nightmare. She needed to get away.
Nearing, Dom Brodie was in no mood to smile. Cold anger suppressed any feelings of warmth he may once have held towards the woman before him, despite her undeniable beauty even from this angle. His return to this country was for one reason only, to lay a certain ghost to rest. When he returned to France he would be free. Whatever it took, this nightmare was going to end
Amber’s morning had been a long one, the kind she couldn’t wait to end. It had begun like any other – a quick shower and change before sitting down to breakfast with her three-year-old son, followed by the usual last-minute rush as she searched for her diary, snagging her nylons in the process. It took her another five minutes to find and replace them with an undamaged pair and, by the time she finally waved goodbye to Jamie and his nanny, she was running late. And that was just the beginning. From the moment she stepped inside the salon door, all thought of catching up vanished amid an ensuing catalogue of tiny shop disasters.
“I should have stayed at home,” she grumbled to her young assistant, Megan, after nearly tripping over a box of product waiting to be shelved. Not that staying home would have achieved anything; just temporarily delayed a certain piece of unwelcome news. A cold finger traced a line down her spine…
To purchase from Smashwords
nook users Barns and Noble
Purchase paperback edition go to Lulu