The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,274

added dryly.

‘Well, I don’t have to sell it, of course, I just rather thought that if you weren’t interested in ever coming home again, that I probably would. The other question is, whether we should get a divorce? I’m perfectly prepared to be cited for anything I need to be cited for. Desertion is probably the best, don’t you think?’

Cecily turned towards Bill, who, despite his protestations of being old, could pass for younger than any of the balding, pot-bellied Manhattanites who were around her own age. Tears came unexpectedly to her eyes.

‘Good Lord, what have I said now to upset you?’

‘I . . . forgive me, it’s just the shock of you appearing like a ghost out of the blue. I can’t answer those kinds of questions right now. I need time to think, Bill, to adjust to you being here. Okay?’

‘Of course. Forgive me, Cecily, I’ve put my big bloody foot in it again. You civilised me for a while, but I’ve had all this time to go backwards,’ he said, much more gently. ‘Listen, if you could point me in the direction of a half-decent hotel in the neighbourhood, I’ll go away and leave you in peace. I haven’t slept for the past couple of days, or in fact washed, and I must stink to high heaven.’

‘It’s okay, Bill, I’ve got a spare room here; it’s Stella’s but she’s away in Montgomery for the next few days, so you’re welcome to it.’

‘Are you sure? I now feel like a complete rake barging back into your life without any forewarning.’

‘You never were one to play by the rules, were you, Bill? Where is your luggage?’ she asked as she stood up.

‘There.’ Bill indicated a holdall. ‘You know me, I travel light.’

‘Well, I’ll show you where the shower is.’

Once she had done that, Cecily walked back outside and sat down, feeling utterly wrung out. Despite, well, literally everything, that feeling that had taken root inside her when she’d first met Bill, and had grown like a tiny sapling as she had gotten to know him better, was still there after all these years.

‘Darn you, Bill Forsythe!’ she muttered as she heard the shower turn on and imagined his firm muscled body naked beneath it . . .

‘You’re a sad, lonely old woman,’ she told herself firmly. It had been over twenty-three years since she’d last had any kind of intimate contact with a man. Surely, what she was feeling was just decades of unfulfilled physical longing. Bill was old now and hardly the stuff of dreams on any level. Yet she herself was a dried-up old woman.

‘Which bedroom am I to have?’ Bill appeared behind her, a towel wrapped around his middle.

‘I’ll show you,’ Cecily said, trying to ignore his naked torso, which had endured the passage of time exceptionally well. ‘Here,’ she said as she opened a door along the basement corridor. ‘This is Stella’s room.’

‘And this is Stella?’ Bill pointed to a photo of her at her college graduation. ‘Goodness, what a stunner she is.’

‘I know, she is the spitting image of her mother.’

‘And all this . . .’ – Bill waved an arm round the pretty room – ‘stems from my request to give – what was she called?’

‘Njala.’

‘To give Njala safe haven on our land.’

‘Yes, but I swear, Bill, there is no need to feel guilty about that. Stella is the best thing that ever happened to me. Loving her changed my life, and me,’ she added. ‘Now, I’ll leave you to get some rest. I have to collect Rosa at three from her school, but if you wake up while I’m gone, please help yourself to anything from the refrigerator.’

‘Don’t worry about me, I can fend for myself,’ said Bill, throwing back the covers on the bed and tipping Lucky, Stella’s beloved cuddly lion, onto the floor.

‘I know, but you’re in the urban jungle now,’ Cecily smiled. ‘Sleep well.’

‘So this is Rosa,’ said Bill, who after a shave, some sleep and a fresh change of clothes was looking far more like himself.

‘How do you do, sir?’ the little girl said, sticking her hand up towards him.

‘I do very well, thank you, Rosa,’ said Bill.

Rosa turned to Cecily. ‘Who is this man?’ she asked imperiously.

‘This man is called Bill. And he’s a very old friend of mine.’

‘Okay. Can I watch TV for a while?’

‘Not until you’ve done your homework, Rosa.’

‘Oh, but can’t I watch TV first – Mister Rogers is on soon – then do