The moment stretched while he considered her answer.
He’d look good standing on the sand, his trousers rolled up to the knee, seawater washing around his bare ankles, sand ebbing overhis feet…
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” He said. The, shoving his hand in his trouser pocket, he brought out his phone and started to text orsomething.
That couldn’t bethe end?
“You wouldn’t have to come with me. I know you are busy. I could go alone as long there was someone to sailthe boat.”
He shook his head. “That’s not the point. It’s a derelict cottage. I don’t think it’s structurally sound anymore. Sorry.” And with that, he went back to examininghis phone.
She fought to salvage her dream. If Joanie could follow her dreams, then socould she.
“I’ll just walk around the cove, I’m not going to play tennis on the jetty. Besides, you said I could name my price if I can speak French likea native—”
“Okay, fine,” he said without looking up fromhis phone.
“Yes?”
“You have my word.” He gave her half a smile, even if his eyes didn’tmeet hers.
“Shake?” She offered her hand in as close to a business-like gesture as she could manage.
He looked at her hand as if it were a livewire. Then he took it for the quickest handshake. “Good night,”he said,
George crossed back to the stairs in three swift strides and ran up the stairs. He rounded the corner, raced down the hall to his room and shutthe door.
Ten minutes later, he had changed into sweats and trainers. He left his room but didn’t come down to the hallway where he’d left Millie. Instead he walked to the far end of the corridor and found the back stairs down to the indoor gym.
He jumped on the treadmill for a fast warm-up then a run. He ran and ran until every muscle and sinew in his body was pulsing with heat. Then he took the cross bars pushing his body through a hundredchin-ups.
When he was done, he dropped on the blue mats for a hundred push-ups. He would do as many circuits as he needed until the pain of exhaustion erased the mental images.
Images of him taking Millie hard on the beach at BlueSage Bay.
OceanofPDF.com
THIRTEEN
Two weeks later. Bedroom, 8am
The channel was baking in a July heatwave. The sun beat down on a sea so still it looked like a mirror. Amazing there was any water left in it. Certainly the lily pool in the garden was dry. Even the breeze that blew in from Millie’s window was warm enough to dry her hair after the shower.
Her morning walk up to the hill had left her sweaty and dusty. But it was worth it for the bunch of wild catmint which now brightened up her dressing table.
Standing in front of her mirror in yellow lace bra and knickers, she smoothed camomile lotion into her face and neck and the tops of her arms, which were a little red. This wasn’t a day for walking in the sun; it was a day for staying indoors and drinkingiced tea.
She rubbed moisturiser into her legs, then padded barefoot to the wardrobe and checked her clothes. What was the lightest, coolest thing she had?
In the end she opted for a short, strappy dress in pale turquoise. The free-flowing fabric swung just above her knees, keeping her cool. On impulse, she found a shiny silver chain and clasped it around her ankle then pushed her feet into flat sandals and lefther room.
Popping into Mr Du Montfort’s study, she found him trying to fan himself withone hand.
“Aren’t you a bright vision?” he said. “It’s sweltering. Makes you wish for rainyEngland?”
Millie laughed as she pulled the sash windows open on both sides of the room to create a draft. “It would have to get much hotter than this before I’d even consider going back.”
“Good. Stay with us. Now if only we could persuade my son. Have youseen him?”
