A Tainted Beauty. Sharon Kendrick

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       CHAPTER THREE

      ‘SO WHAT do you think, Lily? I know it’s a bit small.’

      Fiona Weston’s soft voice penetrated Lily’s thoughts as she stared out of the dusty apartment window onto the street below. The village wasn’t exactly in a throbbing metropolis, but it still seemed unbelievably noisy when compared to the peace and quiet she was used to. A cluster of men were standing outside The Duchess of Cambridge pub, all clutching pints and puffing away at cigarettes. A man shot past on a scooter and Lily winced as it emitted a series of ear-splitting popping sounds.

      Well, she was just going to have to get used to it. No more fragrant roses scenting the air outside her window—and no more gazing out at the distant woods or gently rolling fields. Instead, she was going to have to learn to live with the sound of people and cars—because the village car park was only a short distance away.

      ‘It’s… it’s lovely, Fiona,’ said Lily, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, though it wasn’t easy. The brandy she’d knocked back earlier had left her with a splitting headache and she couldn’t get Ciro D’Angelo’s dark face out of her mind. Or the memory of the way she’d responded when he’d caught hold of her wrist.

      It was bad enough that his purchase had caused this dramatic turnaround in her fortunes, but it was made much worse by her reaction to him. He had made her feel vulnerable and he’d made her feel frustrated, too. And while a part of her had hated the rush of pleasure she’d felt when he’d touched her—hadn’t the other part revelled in the feeling of sexual desire? She forced a smile. ‘Absolutely lovely,’ she repeated.

      ‘Well, if you’re sure,’ said Fiona doubtfully. ‘You can move in any time you want.’

      Lily nodded like one of those old-fashioned dogs her grandfather used to have in the back of his car and she remembered his positive outlook on life. Shouldn’t she be more like that? To start counting her blessings? ‘I can’t wait! It’s such a fantastically compact little apartment—and with a lick of paint and a few pot-plants, you won’t recognise the place.’

      ‘It could certainly do with a facelift,’ said Fiona. ‘Though I don’t know where your brother’s going to sleep when he’s home from school.’

      Lily had been wondering the same thing herself. ‘Oh, he’s very adaptable,’ she said, wondering if sixteen-year-old boys ever stopped growing. ‘And I’m going to splash out and buy a lovely new sofa-bed,’ she added.

      ‘Good for you.’ Fiona smiled. ‘Anyway, I’ve kept the rent nice and low.’

      She mentioned a sum which seemed outrageously modest. ‘I can’t possibly let you charge me something like that,’ said Lily shakily.

      ‘Oh, yes, you can,’ said her boss, sounding quite fierce for once. ‘You’re a hard worker, Lily—and it’s your cakes which keep the customers coming back for more.’

      On an impulse, Lily reached out to hug the kindly woman who had given her flexible working hours since the village tearooms had opened. The undemanding job had provided refuge during the dark days of her mother’s illness and her father’s rapid remarriage. Hadn’t it been a kind of release for Lily, to be able to lose herself in the simple routine of serving people cups of tea and slices of cake? And hadn’t the reassuring routine helped numb the horrible reality of the district nurse arriving daily, to give Mum another pain-killing injection?

      From working on Saturdays and during school holidays, Lily had gone full time at the age of eighteen and had never really looked back. She’d started as a waitress—and when Fiona had discovered that she had a gift for baking, she’d asked Lily to supply the cakes, which she’d done ever since. For a non-academic girl who needed to be there for her brother, the job had been a gift.

      Turning away from the window, Lily smiled. ‘Well, if that’s all settled, I’d better get to work or we’ll have some very discontented customers on our hands. And we can’t have that.’

      ‘No, we can’t!’ Fiona laughed as the two women went downstairs.

      Pleased at having made a decision which seemed to be the only bright light on the horizon, Lily changed into her pink uniform and slipped on a pair of sensible shoes. But as she tidied her hair in front of the mirror she was horribly aware of the feverish glitter in her eyes and the two spots of colour which highlighted her pale cheeks.

      She looked different.

      Unsettled.

      A little bit wild.

      But it wasn’t just shock at her changed circumstances which was responsible for her altered appearance. It was the reawakening of sexual desire, too, and she knew very well who was responsible for that.

      The afternoon shift was hectic, but she was on duty with her friend Danielle, whom she’d known for ever. The tearoom’s proximity to a church reputed to be the birthplace of a famous saint meant that there was always a steady stream of customers, but on a glorious sunny day like today the place was packed. The new ice-cream range was popular, they ran out of lemon drizzle cake—and Fiona had to drive to the cash-and-carry to stock up on strawberry jam. Yet Lily was grateful to be busy, because it stopped her from wondering just where her life was heading and what the future was going to be like now that the house had been sold.

      Just before closing time, the last customer had wandered out and Danielle had disappeared to start the washing up, when the tinkling of a bell announced a new arrival. Stifling a sigh, which she quickly turned into a smile, Lily looked up from rearranging some cakes on a stand and looked straight into the dark eyes of Ciro D’Angelo.

      Her СКАЧАТЬ