Innocent On Her Wedding Night
AS THE lift began its journey to the fourth floor, Laine Sinclair put down her bulky travel bag, flexing cramped fingers, and sagged back against the metal wall.
Adrenalin had got her this far, fuelled largely by anger and disappointment, but now, with sanctuary almost within reach, the savage energy was draining out of her, reminding her that she was jet-lagged and that her damaged ankle, in spite of its rudimentary bandaging, hurt like hell.
Home, she thought longingly, raking a hand through her light sun-streaked hair. Home, bath—and bed. Especially bed. Maybe she’d wait long enough to make herself a hot drink. Probably she wouldn’t.
There’d be no one around at the flat. Jamie would be at work, and it wasn’t one of the cleaner’s days. So there’d be no cosseting, however much she might need it.
But there would be absolute peace and quiet, and the opportunity to sleep off some of her stresses and strains before the inquisition started.
She could hear it now. What are you doing back here? What happened to the boat charter business? And where’s Andy?
At some point she would have to come up with the answers ... read full excerpt from: Innocent on Her Wedding Night ebook
