‘Wedoneed to talk. To work out the details.’
It was on the tip of her tongue to say they’d got this far without working out any details. But he was right. She just wished she didn’t feel so hemmed in, by him and the pregnancy.
‘I’ll call you later, Adoni.’
But switching off her phone didn’t banish his words. Especially when she arrived at the café to find Viv talking aboutwhenshe went to Greece with that delectable man. Hownicehe’d been. Howconsiderate. He’d even arranged an interview with someone from his London hotel who wanted to relocate to the country. Viv was excited about the new waitress with her experience in a top London hotel but adamant there’d be a job for Alice on her return.
Then Alice’s landlord confirmed that next month’s rent had already been paid.
In the end Alice found, to her chagrin, she had no excuses left.
She was going to Greece with the father of her unborn child. The only man who’d tempted her into letting go and living for the moment. The one man who still tempted her in ways she refused to think about.
* * *
Typically, Alice refused to make things easy for him. Any other woman would leap at the idea of lounging in luxury by the Aegean. Not Alice.
Because she was determined to prove she wasn’t a gold-digger? Or because she genuinely had other priorities? What could they be?
Adoni set his jaw as he left the elegant Georgian mansion he’d just inspected and followed a path through the woods that he’d been assured led to a cluster of estate houses.
He’d planned to be in Greece by now. Instead he was in rural England, collecting Alice from an engagement she’d insisted she couldn’t miss. She’d promised to catch the train to London when it was over, but Adoni had no intention of kicking his heels at the airport, perhaps receiving a message that she’d been delayed.
He’d rearranged his schedule to take another look at the property he planned to purchase. The very property where Alice had lived with David Bannister. The property Bannister’s nephew, Miles Dawlish, had approached Adoni about buying.
The manor house was perfect for the exclusive country hotel retreat Adoni envisaged. As for Dawlish’s plans to get the adjoining swathe of land rezoned for housing, that didn’t bother Adoni. The manor would be secure in its landscaped valley, surrounded by woods on three sides and the moor behind it. Besides, his contacts advised the rezoning application was doomed to fail.
Dawlish had done Adoni a favour, bringing the place to his attention. The man was greedy, his asking price inflated; he was desperate for a quick sale to cover escalating gambling debts. The sale would proceed on Adoni’s terms, not Dawlish’s. The sting in the tale was that, while the sale would make Dawlish solvent again, the man would have to change his lifestyle and work for a living if he wanted to keep his head above water.
As for Dawlish’s warning about Alice being a conniving slut—
Adoni frowned. Had Dawlish feared she’d seduce David Bannister into leaving more of his personal funds to her? That she’d somehow break the inheritance? Had that tainted his view of her?
Yet Alice had openly lived here, with a man old enough to be her father, supported by him. Adoni had prowled the vast, elegant house with the agent, assuring himself it would suit his purposes. Yet all the time he’d thought of Alice there with her much older lover. Seen them sprawled across the vast four-poster bed in the master suite. Envisaged Alice, her moonlight-pale skin bare as she stretched over the shining ebony of the grand piano in one of the salons, her ripe mouth curled in an inviting smile.
His pace quickened as he passed a dappled glade of bluebells, their sweet scent at odds with the acid in his throat.
She’d lied about her sexual experience. She must have. She’d been thoroughly debauched by the time she reached Adoni’s bed.
Debauched? He sounded like someone from another century, full of double standards. He didn’t give a damn how many men she’d been with. All that mattered was securing the child she carried.Hischild.
His thoughts were an unsatisfactory whirl of conjecture when he stepped out of the woods and discovered a cluster of picturesque cottages. They lined a narrow lane, half of them thatched and white-washed and the other half stone-built and equally attractive with quaint windows and roses around the doors.
Adoni had expected a ramshackle collection, ready for the bulldozers that would clear the farmland beyond if Dawlish’s plans proceeded. Instead, they appeared in excellent condition.
Laughter drew his attention, husky and low-pitched. The skin at his nape pinched in anticipation.
Alice.His belly tightened and so did his groin at the memory of that throaty laugh in his bed that memorable night. Of the caress of her sweet breath on his bare skin and the taste of her luscious mouth.
Adoni quickened his step and saw her outside a cottage with two men, one grey-haired and smiling down at her. The other, with an unkempt shock of white hair, had his arm around her shoulders.
Something dark and chill engulfed Adoni.
Maybe she was genuinely attracted to old men. The idea made Adoni grimace.
Or perhaps they were simply easier to dupe, eager for a pretty young woman’s company.
He strode closer and the trio turned.