The Wedding Promise. Grace Green
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Название: The Wedding Promise
Автор: Grace Green
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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Hallelujah!
Fired with a sudden burst of energy, he crossed to the bathroom and snatched up a pair of swimming trunks from the towel rail. He’d go down there right now and remove their garbage—people like them always left garbage: empty bottles, unwashed glasses, overflowing ashtrays, soiled sheets...and worse. Contempt curled his upper lip.
Afterwards, he’d go for a swim off the dock.
The water would be icy; but it might help wash away his feeling of profound distaste at the thought of the cottage having been used as a love nest.
Sara had planned to return to her bed after seeing Zach off, but by the time she’d walked back to the cottage from the jetty the chilly morning air had slapped her wide awake.
So instead she made for the smaller bedroom which Zach had used; she tore the linen off the bed, packed the blankets away, and, after tidying up the room, tossed the sheets and pillow slips into the bathroom hamper.
Then she was about to step into the shower, when she changed her mind. She’d soak in a long and lazy bath...and then she’d make herself another pot of coffee.
It was wonderful, she reflected as she turned on the taps and slipped out of her robe, to be on holiday. To have no worries; no deadlines; no plans of any kind.
And the best thing about this particular holiday was that she was going to spend it absolutely on her own.
As for that hateful man in the white house on the hill, she would just ignore him, pretend he didn’t exist.
It was the only way to deal with people like him!
Logan stuck the key in the lock, turned the knob, and pushed the door open.
The interior of the cottage was silent. The only sounds came from outside. Birds warbled, dancing wavelets splashed against the jetty, the brisk breeze rustled leaves in the garden. He left the door open and stepped inside.
The air was dusty, with the faint lingering smell of coffee. So...they’d breakfasted before they’d gone.
He moved through to the kitchen, and snorted with disgust. Just as he’d expected, they’d left the place a pigsty. Hadn’t even emptied the coffeepot; hadn’t even cleared the table, far less washed the mugs and plates.
He’d start cleaning in here, but first he’d check to see what kind of a mess they’d left in the other areas.
He poked his nose into the smaller bedroom and saw that the mattress was bare. He assumed the couple had used the larger room, with its double bed, and, when he checked it out, saw that his assumption had been correct.
Slobs.
The sheets were on the floor, as were the tumbled blankets. They’d had some kind of a wild night, he thought as he glowered at the bed.
And if they’d left the bedroom like this he could only imagine what was awaiting him in the bathroom.
He strode down the narrow hallway, took a deep breath...and flung the door open.
CHAPTER TWO
SARA screamed.
Lost in daydreams and pampered to the chin in gardenia-scented bath bubbles, she had drifted off to sleep. Now, as the door crashed inwards, with her scream shrilling in her ears, she shot up to a sitting position. And with her heart in her mouth she stared with horrified disbelief and fast-rising panic at the figure in the doorway. She’d always felt nature had dealt her a generous hand in the courage department; now she felt terror squeeze that courage down to the size and consistency of a mini-marshmallow!
Logan Hunter.
Man on the prowl.
Naked man on the prowl!
No, not naked; he was wearing swimming trunks—but they were the same brown as his skin so her error had been understandable. She gulped back the lump that almost closed her throat. His black hair was dishevelled, his jaw dark-stubbled, and his eyes were fixed, with the blank look of a person hypnotised, on the foam frothing up over her breasts.
Sex. He wanted sex. He’d seen Zach leave and had lost no time in coming after her! The man was a raving maniac!
‘Get out!’ she shrieked. Snatching the heavy glass bottle of bubble beads from the rack at her elbow, she threw it wildly at him. She missed by a country mile. It smashed against the wall and clattered unbroken to the floor.
‘Get out,’ she screeched, ‘you nasty, disgusting old pervert—’ She scooped up the giant-sized cake of Heavenly Gardenia soap from the edge of the bath and rocketed it at his face. Her aim was atrocious, but he dodged, and the hard oval bar met his brow with a crack that made him wince.
‘Ouch!’ He staggered back a step. ‘Cut it out.’
To her dismay, she noticed that the bath bubbles had started to deflate. Frantically she threshed the dying suds with the flat of her hands in an attempt to revive them, but in vain. The water had cooled, and the bubbles only grew smaller and smaller, concealed her less and less...
With a quavering moan, she slid down as far as she could go without submerging herself fully, and prayed that the few remaining bubbles would continue to act as a veil.
‘I’ll drown myself!’ she moaned, splaying her hands over her breasts and almost throwing out her back as she twisted her crossed legs away from him. ‘I’ll drown myself, I swear, rather than give in to you and your wicked—’
‘Give in to me?’ His curse turned the air blue. ‘Lady, you’re out of your mind. I saw the boat leave and I merely came down to see what Zach Grant had left behind. What I certainly didn’t expect to find was...you.’ He crossed to the mirror above the sink, swiped a hand over the glass to clear the steam, and leaned forward to inspect his brow. ‘You just missed my eye,’ he accused. ‘Lucky for you—’ he turned ‘—or I’d have sued the pants off you...’
His gaze trailed from her face to her body, and he raised a cynical brow. ‘But I guess,’ he added mockingly, ‘they’re already off.’
Sara felt a sheet of heat skim from her neck to the tips of her toes. She had no idea how much of her was visible through the scanty remaining foam—but she’d have walked barefoot over white-hot coals rather than give this man the satisfaction of seeing her peek to check.
‘All right.’ She tilted her chin regally. ‘Please leave now. Your explanation and apology are accepted—’
‘Apology?’ he sputtered. ‘What apology? You’re the one who should be doing the apologising—’
A loud hammering on the front door stopped him short.
‘Hello?’ The voice was high-pitched, nervous, young. ‘Anyone in there? Is everything OK?’
Sara saw him roll his eyes.
‘My СКАЧАТЬ