A Rival to Steal Her Heart by Annie Claydon

A Rival to Steal Her Heart by Annie Claydon

Author:Annie Claydon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-03-12T18:13:58+00:00


CHAPTER NINE

ANNA WOKE IN a comfortable bed, early morning sunshine filtering through the windows. Unlike her flat in London, the house wasn’t overlooked, and she’d left the curtains open, welcoming the glimmer of a harvest moon slanting across the cream-painted walls. Waking at dawn brought the sound of birdsong and not traffic.

The quiet created a sense of peace that the ever-present sounds of the city couldn’t reproduce. She’d discovered last night that Jamie didn’t own a TV, and they’d sat by the fireside, roasting chestnuts and talking. London was his inspiration, full of the clamour of every different kind of professional and cultural stimulus, but his heart was here.

Her clothes and the new sweatshirt were folded neatly on a chair. Anna gave her T-shirt a shake, deciding that the creases from the washer/dryer would have to fall out with wear, and made for the en suite bathroom.

She found him in the kitchen, wearing a dark green Hastings Hustlers sweatshirt, the white lettering on the back beginning to crack from having been washed and worn.

‘Morning. Did you sleep well?’

‘Yes, thanks.’ Curled up in the bed, wearing borrowed sweatpants and a T-shirt that somehow bore his scent even though they were fresh out of the washing machine. Maybe that had been just in her dreams. There was only one thing that would have been better, and that was on the other side of the boundaries they’d set.

‘I’ve got eggs, bacon, toast... Um, coffee, bananas, peanut butter...’

‘Sounds great. Everything but the peanut butter. I’ll take the banana for later.’

He gave her a smiling nod. ‘I was rather hoping you wouldn’t go for a sliver of toast with a dash of low-calorie marmalade. Not that I have any low-calorie marmalade.’

‘You have regular marmalade, though?’

‘I have honey. The bread’s from a local bakery and the eggs and bacon are from the farm shop.’ He smiled. ‘They could probably tell you the name of the hen that laid the egg, but that’s a little too personal for my taste. I have absolutely no idea who grew the banana.’

‘Sounds delicious.’



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