The Bridal Chase by Darcy Maguire

Author:Darcy Maguire
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2005-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

‘ARE you expecting a delivery?’

Roxanne dragged on her grey track suit top, leaving the zip open, quite liking the effect of the apricot tank top underneath contrasting with the seriously cute grey jogging outfit she’d picked up on sale.

It hugged her shape just enough to show she was female, wasn’t too baggy and had a bit of style. She pulled on her trainers, tying the laces quickly.

She loved mail. Probably because she didn’t get a lot. As a kid she’d check the mailbox every day in the hope of mail from her dad, but it had never come.

Delivery? She’d been successful bidding on a vase and a CD on Ebay, but she’d only paid yesterday…that was quick.

She stared at the incredible invention for surfing the Net in the corner of the bedroom. It had been Nadine’s room but she’d given it up for her to sleep in while she bunked with Rory.

Roxanne was thankful for her sacrifice. The computer was perfect for consuming large chunks of time, sparing her from thinking about a certain male.

She shook her head. She had to get on with her own future and leave her sister’s—find a place of her own, a job of her own, a life of her own again. And she knew the only way not to muck it up again was to stay alone.

She stood up, donning her cap, pulling it low over the shadows under her eyes, a vague sort of emptiness haunting her chest.

‘Yes, I guess I am expecting a delivery,’ she called back to her sister. ‘Be there in a sec… Where’s it from?’

‘He needs your signature.’ A pause. ‘It’s from some gallery.’

Yes. It was the print she’d bought. The one that they’d stared at together, the building that soared into the heavens…the one that reminded her of him. The one she could imagine him designing…while he was dreaming of great things, a great future with Heather, that was all an illusion.

She stared at the bedroom door. She shouldn’t have gone back to the gallery—it was too high a risk—but she wanted something to remind her of him, something more than a stilted photo of the guy wrapped around Heather Moreton.

She glanced over to the book on the bedside table. So, the photo of him hadn’t made it back into the file…it didn’t mean anything.

She tore her attention from How to be a Stud and yanked open the bedroom door, stepping into the hallway, passing Nadine shuffling back to the kitchen in her dressing gown and fluffy slippers, her hair ruffled by sleep.

The television was on in the front room, the shrieks and high voices suggesting cartoons.

Roxanne moved towards the front door, her attention drawn to the delivery man filling the doorway. She couldn’t look away.

Her chest tightened.

She saw the small flat parcel in his hands, wrapped in brown paper, trying to quash the silly reaction. It was just a picture.

The lady at the gallery hadn’t let her take it away until the exhibition was over…she’d only waited two weeks but it had felt like an eternity.

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