Chapters (38)
- Cover
- Heidi Swain
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Acknowledgements
- Dolly and Hattie’s Christmas Wish List . . .
- ‘The Secret Seaside Escape’ Ad
- ‘Poppy’s Recipe for Life’ Ad
- ‘Snowflakes and Cinnamon Swirls at The Winter Wonderland’ Ad
- About the Author
‘Not that you don’t look lovely as you are,’ Jonathan carried on, ‘but, well, you’ll see when we get there.’
Annoyingly, he was right. I wouldn’t have wanted to turn up at the seventeenth-century luxury spa hotel looking windswept from Wynbridge. The grand exterior was imposing and dominated the landscaped grounds, and inside five-star indulgence awaited me.
‘An entire suite,’ I couldn’t help grinning as Jonathan checked us in.
‘And every spa treatment you can imagine,’ he smiled back. ‘I thought I’d start with a massage,’ he added, ‘to sort my spine and alignment after my collision with Dolly’s low beam.’
The rooms were heaven – a huge canopied bed, extensive views, an open fire and a bath which was easily big enough for two – and it soon became obvious that Jonathan had one thing on his mind once we’d taken it all in.
‘God I’ve missed you,’ he groaned, looking down at my naked body after quickly relieving me of my clothes.
I ran my hands over the muscles of his back and wrapped my legs tightly around him, then pulled him down and into me in one smooth movement. His body was toned to perfection and the weight and warmth of him as he began to move promised an exquisite few hours to come.
‘I’ve missed you too,’ I gasped as he covered his mouth with mine and began to move faster.
An afternoon spent with a lover as competent as Jonathan would leave anyone feeling satisfied, but I couldn’t help thinking, as I slipped out of the bed and went to run a bath, that there was something a little off. Some part of me that he hadn’t reached. Sexually I was sated, but there was something else, something I couldn’t put my finger on, but which left me feeling a little disconcerted nonetheless.
I crept back to where I’d dumped my bag and watched him sleeping. He was completely relaxed, his arm thrown across the bed and his chest rising and falling in long, deep breaths. He looked the same and physically he had felt the same, so perhaps it was me who was different not him. I quietly picked up my bag, pulled out my phone and went back to the bathroom.