In The Billionaire's Bed. Sara Wood

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      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHAPTER ONE

      ‘HI, EVERYONE.’

      Catherine tried to sound bright but failed. As she eased her narrow boat alongside Tom’s massive Dutch barge she could see from her friends’ faces that the rumours she’d heard in Saxonbury town were probably true.

      Tom, Steve, Nick and Dudley rose from the spacious well of the foredeck, looking alarmingly sympathetic. That made things worse. Her stomach did an impromptu roll of its own accord.

      Now she had to face the fact that if Tresanton Island had been sold then her immediate future lay in the hands of the new owner.

      Turning her head, she looked back longingly at the beautiful island further up river. She’d had no legal right to be there, even though she’d had the mooring for the past three years. That hadn’t mattered with the tolerant and genial Edith Tresanton as her landlady. But ever since Edith’s death there had been an air of uncertainty about her situation.

      Willing hands caught the ropes she tossed. Hitching up her long skirt, she let The Boys—as she called them—haul her on board. Her gypsy-black pre-Raphaelite hair escaped from its binding and she deftly fastened it again, her sweet, fragile-boned face an unusual pallor.

      ‘Been talking about you,’ Tom said in greeting. ‘Cuppa?’

      She shook her head and perched apprehensively on the deck lid. Steve gave her a friendly kiss and wasted no time getting to the point.

      ‘You know the island’s got a new owner?’ he asked anxiously.

      Her heart sank. ‘I suspected it. That means I could be in trouble,’ she said, her hopes disappearing into her tiny size three’s. She rubbed suddenly damp palms on the thin cotton of her flowing skirt. ‘What do you know?’ she asked. ‘Have the people moved in? I didn’t see a car on the bank when I came past.’

      ‘Removal van’s been and gone. Local traders say a bossy, yuppie London woman’s taken it over,’ Tom answered, spiralling Catherine’s spirits down still further. ‘Fancy yuk-yellow sports car, all chrome and turbo thrust and so’s she. City suit, egg-whisk hair, killer heels and an elaborately painted face.’

      ‘Not exactly a kindred spirit,’ she muttered.

      She’d hoped that a nature lover would buy Tresanton Island. Who else would want somewhere so isolated, so rural? A nature lover would have liked having narrow boats around. Would have considered it romantic. The new owner didn’t sound as if she’d be too empathetic.

      ‘Yeah. Not our sort—or Edith’s,’ he grunted. ‘A really bossy type. She’s moved her stuff in and cleaned everyone out of expensive gourmet provisions—after screeching with shock-horror because Saxonbury doesn’t stock wheat grass.’ He grinned. ‘Some bright spark directed her to a field for the grass and she went ballistic, calling him an ignorant peasant! That’s all we know.’

      Catherine managed a smile then released a huge breath of resignation. It sounded as though there would definitely be changes to the island—and to Edith’s house. The manor’s charming, countrified air would probably be transformed with the addition of a stainless steel kitchen and futuristic technology. And the island laid to lawn.

      But what of her? Her wistful gaze lingered on her boat’s scarlet cabin roof cluttered with flower boxes, assorted chimneys and narrow boat paraphernalia. Traditional in style and wonderfully cosy, the narrow boat had been the СКАЧАТЬ