Settling The Score by Sharon Kendrick

Author:Sharon Kendrick
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-06-07T22:00:00+00:00

Please note that I have given you the best room in the house. Though you may, of course, disagree with me—as you and I seem fated to do, Romy—given that the room next door just happens to be mine!

But do not trouble your innocent little mind over this since there is no inter-connecting door, and even if there was I would not dream of doing anything as crass as trying to break into your bedroom late at night.

Unless, of course, you invite me to...

It was signed simply ‘Dominic’.

Romy disdainfully tore the note into tiny fragments once she had read this hateful piece of sarcasm, and let them flutter into the bin. Of all the arrogant, egotistical assumptions, she fumed as she began to unpack.

Did he really think he could just pick up where he had left off all those years ago? She pulled a face in the mirror. Because if he did—could she really blame him?

She hung her clothes up, then went back downstairs, where she introduced herself to Gilly, the caterer. Over a cup of tea, the two of them ate buttered scones and discussed the timing of the meals.

Next Romy found a basket and some secateurs and went out into the garden to pick some flowers to decorate the house. She was just snipping off one of the yellow and pink roses which Triss had admired so much when she heard the sound of footsteps and ice chinking in glasses, and some sixth sense told her that he was back.

She carefully smoothed her face into a neutral expression and turned round to see Dominic carrying a tempting-looking tray of drinks towards her.

Romy willed herself not to react, but it wasn’t easy, particularly as he was wearing black jeans which fitted much too snugly around his narrow hips. A white T-shirt emphasised the light tan which made his muscular arms such a flattering colour. If ever he was short of cash, he could, she realised despairingly, make a lucrative career out of being a male stripper!

‘Hello, Romy,’ he said softly, and his voice had all the sensual throb of a tenor saxophone. ‘Do you know it’s ninety in the shade? The hottest July since records began. So I’ve brought you a drink. It’s Pimm’s—’

‘I never drink in the middle of the afternoon,’ she told him primly. ‘And when did you get back?’

‘It’s very weak Pimm’s.’ He smiled, ignoring her question completely.

Putting the tray down on the grass, he poured her a glass brimming with mint and cucumber and lemon and ice and held it out towards her. It looked utterly irresistible.

Romy felt a tiny rivulet of sweat trickle its way slowly down the deep valley between her breasts.

‘And you do look hot,’ he murmured.

Romy took the glass he held out to her and gulped half the contents down gratefully.

His grey eyes glinted as he watched her. ‘And no wonder you never drink in the afternoon!’ he observed drily. ‘Because if you put it away at that speed you’ll be flat on your back in no time!’

Romy’s cheeks flamed furiously at the implication.

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