Undertaking Love Page 0,70

of panic.

Invigorated by the quietness of her cottage, she headed straight for the fridge. Smoked salmon and scrambled eggs beckoned, followed by a long soak in the bath with the new Jo Malone bath oil she’d treated herself to for her birthday. She hummed a jaunty rendition of ‘Happy birthday to me,’ under her breath as she cracked the eggs, and savoured the prospect of a whole weekend dedicated to Ben & Jerry’s, girly movies and bubble baths.

Bliss.

‘I could kiss you, Eve, this looks perfect,’ Gabe grinned as he strapped the wicker basket onto the back of his motorbike.

Eve Jones stood on the pavement outside her store and turned beetroot with pleasure. She found herself very much wishing that he would kiss her, but just managed to stop short of saying so.

‘Just try and keep it upright, okay?’ she flustered, eyeing the huge bike apprehensively.

Gabe winked and threw his leg over the saddle. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll drive carefully. Precious cargo and all that.’

He slid his helmet down over his head and blew her a kiss.

‘You’re a diamond, Eve, I owe you big time for this.’

He snapped his visor shut and the bike growled into life under his hands.

Eve watched him roar away with her arms folded across her chest. What was there not to love about a gorgeous man on a dirty great motorbike? Romantic too, if his gift choice was anything to judge him by.

There was one very lucky lady out there somewhere.

Marla combed her damp hair through with water-crinkled fingers. She’d soaked for far too long in the bath, but the heavenly scent of nectarine and honey had been too sublime for her to tear herself away.

Besides, there was no hurry. The day stretched out ahead of her like a sheet of silk, to be slowly luxuriated in and enjoyed.

She slid out of her robe and into the brand new La Perla white lace underwear she’d laid out on the bed. A birthday gift from her mother, although picked out by Marla, of course. Cecilia had never been one to give much thought to gifts. She preferred to wave her credit card around and for the magic to just happen. Not that Marla begrudged her on this occasion; one glance in her knicker drawer was enough to confirm her status as a class-A lingerie junkie, and these babies were a very welcome addition to her collection.

She turned, pausing to study her reflection in the dressing table mirror, appreciating the cleavage enhancing effect of the balconette bra. In a perfect world she’d like to have woken up that morning to find that her 34B boobs had gone up a cup size for her birthday, but in the absence of magic wishes, couture wizardry would do nicely.

The September sunshine warmed her skin through the window, and she bypassed the jeans she’d planned to wear, reaching instead for a white cotton sundress. With any luck she’d be in the garden drinking Bellinis this afternoon and the dress would be perfect for catching a few rays.

Spending your birthday alone may not be everyone’s idea of a barrel of laughs, but long spells alone as a child had equipped Marla with self-reliance by the bucketload. It was a feeling that went way deeper than being content with her own company; it was a visceral need for solitude that she had been denied since her mum and Brynn’s arrival, leaving her distinctly frayed around the edges.

Throw the debacle with Rupert into the mix and stir well, and it was hardly surprising that the prospect of a little peace and quiet held such allure.

A couple of sun-warmed and languid hours later, Marla's book slipped from her fingertips as she dozed, an empty champagne flute on the grass beside her lounger. Half awake and half asleep, she thought she heard someone call her name and struggled up through the hazy layers.

Had she dreamt it?

Nope, there was definitely someone calling her. A deep, male voice, with an unmistakable lilt and a delicious roll of the R in the middle of her name.

Jeez, what was Gabe doing here?

Marla scrabbled to her feet, her cheeks pink from the sun and two peach Bellinis.

She tiptoed through the back door into the kitchen and jumped as he rapped on the front door.

‘Come on Marla, I know you’re in there.’

How the frig did he know? She could be out. She could be shopping, or ice-skating, or even out with an actual real live man! How dare he assume that she would be