Fate Takes A Hand. Betty Neels
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Название: Fate Takes A Hand
Автор: Betty Neels
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon M&B
isbn: 9781408983126
isbn:
Table of Contents
“What do you intend to do
about it, Eulalia?”
“Give it all back, of course. And we’ll leave the cottage.”
Fenno’s slow smile mocked her. “Yes? And where will you go?”
“I’ll find somewhere. I’m not a fool.”
“No, but pigheaded in the extreme. Come down off your high horse and use some sense.”
“I am not pigheaded.”
“No, no, of course not—a slip of the tongue. Let us say rather that you are a strong-minded female who likes her own way.”
Dear Reader,
To celebrate a fortieth anniversary, be it for a wedding, birthday or some family event, is something of an achievement. Forty years is a long time but that is what Harlequin has done, bringing romance into the lives of countless readers. And romance is something that everyone needs, even if it is sometimes not openly admitted.
Think what pleasure and comfort there is in curling up with a love story with a happy ending when one is feeling depressed or sad or lonely or just pleasantly lazy—there is nothing to beat it, and I’m sure every reader will agree with me. Romance will never be out of fashion or out of date; that is obvious from Harlequin’s success in the field of romance over the years. And I, being a romantic down to the soles of my feet, hope with all my heart that in another forty years’ time the eightieth anniversary will be celebrated with even greater success. Indeed, I’m sure that it will.
Fate Takes a
Hand
Betty Neels
MILLS & BOON
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THE little flower shop, squeezed between two elegant boutiques, was empty save for a girl in a cupboard-like space at its back, making up a bouquet. It was a charming bouquet, of rose-buds, forget-me-nots and lilies of the valley, suitable for the littlest bridesmaid for whom it was destined, the last of six which she had been left to fashion while the owner of the shop had gone off on some mission of her own. She was tying a pale pink ribbon around it when the shop door was thrust open and a customer came in. A giant of a man, elegantly dressed, no longer young, and wearing a look of impatient annoyance upon his handsome features.
He came to a stop in the middle of the floral arrangements and said curtly, ‘I want a couple of dozen roses sent to this address.’
‘Red roses?’
‘Certainly not. Yellow—pink, it really doesn’t matter.’
He stared at her, and really she was worth being stared at: a big girl with generous curves, short dark curly hair, large grey eyes and a pretty face.
He said abruptly, ‘What is your name?’
‘Eulalia Warburton,’ she replied promptly. ‘What is yours?’
He smiled thinly. ‘The roses are to be sent to this address.’ He handed her a card. ‘How much?’
‘Fifteen pounds and two pounds for delivery.’ She glanced at the card. ‘This afternoon—this evening? Tomorrow?’
‘This evening, before six o’clock. Make sure that they are fresh…’
She gave him an outraged stare. ‘All the flowers in this shop are fresh.’
She took the money and thumped the cash register with some force. Thoroughly put out, she said snappily, ‘If you doubt it, have your money back and go somewhere else.’
‘Dear, dear.’ He spoke with СКАЧАТЬ