Christmas on the Little Cornish Isles by Phillipa Ashley

Author:Phillipa Ashley
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008257309
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2017-08-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

He spotted her immediately and jogged down the rough steps to join her, his boots ringing out on the rock.

‘Are you going in there?’ he asked. ‘That’s brave.’

He grimaced but his eyes glittered with amusement. Their summer sea colours took on an intensity that made Maisie’s limbs feel almost liquid. A couple of days’ stubble shaded his jaw and without warning, she had an image – and a feeling – of it rasping against her cheek, her neck and her breasts.

Maisie dug her nails into her palm, willing the feelings swirling in her belly to go away. ‘It might be my last chance until spring so I thought I’d go for it.’

He nodded. ‘Seizing the day. I get that.’

‘Where are you going?’ she asked.

‘It’s where I’ve been, actually.’ He smiled. ‘The vicar’s cottage.’

So, Patrick had been round to the vicarage again. Maisie raised an eyebrow. ‘Prayer meeting, was it?’

‘Unlikely as I’m a fully paid-up heathen … but I suppose I could be open to conversion. With enough persuasion.’

‘Rev Bev’s made quite an impression on the community,’ said Maisie. ‘Vicar and first responder. I was glad she was around to help Dad.’ She felt she had to say something super nice about the vicar. She’d hate Patrick to think she was in any way jealous. Which she wasn’t, of course.

‘Just passing, were you?’ Maisie teased, hoping she didn’t sound sarcastic.

‘No, as a matter of fact I had an invitation.’

‘Oh,’ she said, picking up her trainers and putting them on a rock. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeming interested.

‘Beverley wants to see my slides,’ said Patrick.

‘Does she now?’ Maisie rolled her eyes and sat down on a low rock ready to take off her socks, half wishing Patrick would leave but also dying to know what had gone on between him and the glamorous Bev.

‘She asked me if I’d give a talk on Australian wildlife at the community hall.’

Maisie laughed out loud. ‘Well, that’s what passes for entertainment on Gull.’

He feigned a hurt look. ‘Don’t knock it. I’ll probably be mobbed like Justin Bieber.’

‘You’d go down better if you were Tom Jones given the average age of the parish group. Will you?’

‘I don’t know.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Will people really want to see a few bored ’roos and a blurry shot of an echidna?’

‘They’d probably turn up to see a photo of the vicar’s pug. I hate to disillusion you, Patrick, but I don’t think the wildlife is the attraction.’

‘What are you trying to say? That I’m the attraction?’

‘No! The free tea and biscuits are. People will do anything for a free cuppa and a Hobnob.’

‘And here was I thinking I was an exotic species that the locals would flock to examine.’

You are. I would. Maisie kept her thoughts buttoned away. She’d abandoned any idea of taking off her socks or anything else while Patrick was in such close proximity. Keeping up the mindless banter was her way of trying to stop her simmering desires from boiling over completely.

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