Summer Seductions--3 Book Box Set by Lynne Graham

Author:Lynne Graham [Graham, Graham; Kendrick, Sharon; Gordon, Lucy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781460889930
Publisher: Mills & Boon Special Release
Published: 2013-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

RING me if you need to talk. Those had been Guy’s last words to her a week or so ago.

Sabrina opened her eyes and stared at the blank white space of the ceiling. What woman would want to admit to being needy? And what could she possibly say if she picked the phone up to ring him? Hello, Guy, it’s me, Sabrina. Remember me? I’m the woman you had the one-night stand with in Venice?

And then what?

No. There was no point in ringing him. No point in anything really, other than trying to get through each day the best way she could.

‘Sabrina?’

Sabrina turned over and yawned as she focussed her eyes on the clock on the locker. Nearly ten o’clock. She loved her Sunday morning lie-ins. ‘Yes, Mum?’

‘You’ve got—’ there was a rather odd note in her mother’s voice as she called up the stairs, Sabrina thought ‘—a visitor, dear!’

Some sixth sense warned her. Sabrina sat bolt upright in bed, her baggy Minnie Mouse nightshirt almost swamping her.

‘Who is it?’ she demanded hoarsely.

‘It’s Guy,’ called her mother.

Her heart did a somersault. ‘Guy M-Masters?’

‘Why, how many others do you know?’ came a shockingly familiar voice.

‘I’m still in bed!’ she shouted down, feeling the shiver of nerves beginning to trace chaotic pathways over her skin. There was a split-second pause, and then a sardonic reply.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll wait.’

She told herself that there was no way of getting out of seeing him, even if she’d wanted to. And that was the most disturbing thing of all.

She didn’t want to.

Sabrina felt the powerful acceleration of her heart as she quickly showered and dressed.

Instinct told her not to go over the top with her choice of clothes, while pride nagged at her to make some sort of effort. If he was simply calling by to check on her welfare—then she refused to have him wondering what he had ever seen in her.

But she was actually shaking as she dressed—in a warm woollen dress which she’d bought at the market, its ice-blue colour matching her eyes exactly. And her knee-high leather boots—absolutely ancient now, but lovingly polished and cared for, so that they had entirely justified their original high price-tag.

Sabrina went downstairs, expecting—no, hoping—to feel nothing for him. But she wondered who she had been trying to fool, because the moment she walked into the sitting room and saw him she was incapacitated by his sheer physical beauty.

He looked, she thought with a sharp edge of despair, absolutely wonderful—as wonderful as the first time she had seen him. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans which clung to every millimetre of the longest, most muscular legs she had ever seen. The denim emphasised the jut of his hips and the flat planes of his stomach. And he was wearing a beautiful cashmere sweater in a shade of grey just darker than his eyes. A dark jacket lay heaped over a chair.

There was nothing she could do to stop the primitive leap of pleasure in her heart.

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