Spanish Billionaire, Innocent Wife
The hands on the clock didn't seem to have moved even once in all the time that she had been sitting here. Alannah could have sworn that every time she glanced up at the big white circle that hung on the green-painted wall opposite the big hand and the little hand were in exactly the same position as they had been the last time she had looked, making a mockery of the audible sound of the minutes ticking away.
She felt as if she had been here all afternoon—almost all her life. And yet time hardly seemed to have moved on from the moment she had arrived and taken her place in the rather worn armchair in the middle of the room.
From here she could watch the door. She could see the approach of anyone coming near through the clouded pane of glass, and be ready if the door should open and the man she was expecting appeared.
The man she was expecting? Dreading would be more like it, Alannah admitted to herself, green eyes clouding rapidly.
She shook her head so that the red-gold swathe of her hair tossed along her shoulders, straggling strands escaping from the black elasticated band into which she had confined it before leaving home that morning, and rub ... read full excerpt from: Spanish Billionaire, Innocent Wife ebook
