Modern Romance May 2016 Books 1-4. Julia James

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       CHAPTER FIVE

      LUKE’S PLANE LANDED at Heathrow just after eight a.m.

      His flight had been delayed in Hong Kong, and he’d had to kick his heels around the international airport there for more than three hours.

      By the time he got out of the arrivals lounge at Heathrow and found his chauffeur, Felix, waiting for him, he was in no mood to make nice with anyone.

      ‘Good trip?’ queried Felix, getting behind the wheel, and Luke gave him a dour look.

      ‘How long have you been waiting?’ he asked, instead of answering the man, and Felix shrugged.

      ‘A couple of hours, give or take,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I checked the flight online and saw there’d been a delay. But I never trust those schedules. I prefer to come to the airport and see for myself.’

      That, at least, drew a rueful smile from his employer.

      ‘They’re usually reliable, you know,’ Luke said drily. Then, hooking one ankle across his knee, he gazed out of the car’s windows at the overcast sky. ‘It’s been a long journey.’

      ‘I’ll bet.’ Felix glanced at him through the rear-view mirror. ‘Maybe you should have gone to Mahe, after all.’

      ‘Yeah.’

      Luke conceded the point, but said nothing more. Maybe he should have taken Jodi to the Seychelles as he’d originally intended. But after that trip to Ashford-St-James, he’d been in no mood to spend time with another woman.

      Instead, he’d spent a couple of weeks in Melbourne, catching up with what Ray Carpenter and his family were doing. And avoiding thinking about the development he’d been planning before he went away.

      ‘So,’ he said resignedly, ‘is there any news?’

      ‘I suppose it depends what you mean by news,’ replied Felix evenly. ‘Some guy involved with that site you’re hoping to develop in Wiltshire has started a petition. He’s claiming that the buildings you’re thinking of demolishing have historical significance and should be placed under a preservation order.’

      Luke didn’t ask how the man had got his information. Somehow Felix always knew what was going on. But he didn’t have to think very hard to guess who he was talking about.

      Greg Hughes!

      So was Abby involved? He would have to find out.

      * * *

      It was almost dark when Abby got home after walking Harley. And raining quite heavily, too.

      They’d circled the park a couple of times and then Abby had called at the local deli for groceries. She didn’t like to admit it, but it was true: Ashford-St-James did need a decent supermarket. One with its own parking area. That was one disadvantage about the café. There was nowhere to park nearby.

      Not that she owned a car, she reflected with a sigh. She owned an old van that she used to collect supplies from the wholesalers, but that was all. And that had to be parked in the alley between the row of shops.

      Her divorce from Harry had not been a pretty one, and, after paying for her mother’s funeral, Abby had been virtually broke. Only the modest price she’d got for her mother’s terraced house had enabled her to move away from London. But she’d been so desperate to escape, she’d have sacrificed any amount of money to be free.

      She tried not to think about it these days. Leaving London had been the best thing she could have done. Had she stayed in the capital, she knew Harry would have found some way to hurt her. He was a vindictive man, and only the fear that his friends would make fun of him if he contested the divorce had forced him to let her go.

      Abby let herself into the side door of the café premises and, after locking it and setting the dead bolt, she climbed the stairs to her apartment.

      Harley frolicked ahead of her, full of beans after his walk. But Abby took the stairs a little more slowly, wondering how much longer she would be allowed to stay here.

      It was a Friday evening, but, from her point of view, the weekend was usually her busiest time. Shoppers, who came into the small town at weekends to do their weekly shop, often came into the café for either coffee or lunch. But at least she’d have a whole day off on Sunday.

      Inside the apartment, she went into the small kitchen to put her shopping away and give Harley his supper. As well as the kitchen, there was a living room, which she’d furnished from the saleroom, with a dining alcove, and a reasonably-sized bedroom and bath. It was nothing like the upmarket apartment she’d shared with Harry. But, by comparison, it was heaven on earth.

      Or it had been.

      With the retriever seen to, Abby regarded the contents of her fridge without enthusiasm. She wasn’t particularly hungry and she decided to have a shower before tackling her own meal.

      Leaving Harley to his kibble, she went into the bedroom, kicking off her shoes as she did so. The shower was hot and she stood for several minutes letting the water cascade over her. She usually enjoyed the sensation, but tonight she couldn’t seem to relax.

      She hadn’t forgotten that it was over three weeks since Luke’s visit to the café. Three weeks since they’d had that altercation that had culminated in Abby throwing him out. Well, asking him to go, she amended ruefully. There was no way she could have got him to leave if he hadn’t decided to do so.

      Whatever, she knew he was the real cause of her depression. And not just because of the business either. It was obvious he still considered that she was to blame for Harry’s behaviour. But she was damned if she was going to try and tell him the truth, only to have him throw her words back in her face.

      Besides, since moving to Ashford, she’d put all that misery behind her. Just occasionally, when she went back to visit her mother’s grave, the whole sorry affair jumped back into her mind.

      Her mother would have been horrified had she even suspected the kind of life Abby had been leading before she died. But it had been worth it to ensure that Annabel Lacey had never wanted for anything.

      Stepping out of the shower, she was towelling herself dry when she heard someone knocking at the outer door. Not to say ‘hammering’, she thought impatiently as Harley started barking. She wondered who on earth it could be.

      The only person who came to mind was Greg Hughes and she had no intention of letting him in. But in all the years she’d been here, he’d never bothered her after dark.

      The hammering started again and Harley’s barking grew to a crescendo. If she wasn’t careful, Miss Miller, who ran the gift shop on the other side of the café, and who also lived above the business, would begin to think something was wrong.

      She СКАЧАТЬ