Running From the Storm

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Book: Read Running From the Storm for Free Online
Authors: Lee Wilkinson
luggage had been placed on a low chest.
    When she had found her toilet things and a change of clothing, she made her cautious way to the sumptuous en suite bathroom, with its mirrored walls and off-white carpet.
    There she found a luxurious bathtub and shower, and on a glass shelf an array of toiletries, towels and a pair of folded bathrobes.
    By the time she stepped out of the shower the hot water had done its work; her head had cleared and she was feeling altogether brighter.
    Wearing one of the bathrobes, she brushed her teeth and blow-dried her long hair, leaving it loose around her shoulders before returning to the bedroom.
    Having donned clean undies, a silky dress that echoed the turquoise, green and gold of a tropical sea, and flat-heeled sandals, she swapped her evening bag for her handbag, which she’d put in her holdall, and repacked her case.
    Then, leaving her bag and a lightweight jacket on top of the case, she ventured onto the landing. She was suddenly filled with excitement and anticipation at the thought of seeing Zander again. She made her way down the graceful curve of stairs to a spacious hall, with doors leading off on either side.
    Right at the far end, through a partially open door, she could see a small but well-equipped gym but it appeared to be empty.
    Everywhere was silent and, with no one about to ask, she went to the nearest door and tapped lightly on it.
    She struck lucky the first time. Her knock was answered by Zander’s voice calling, ‘Come in.’
    Wondering if he would have the same powerful impact she recalled from the previous evening, she walked into an office full of state-of-the-art technology.
    Looking fresh and strikingly attractive in an olive-green silk shirt, short-sleeved and open at the neck, he was sitting behind a desk working with a laptop. A lock of his thick blond hair, which was parted on the left and cut fairly short, hung over his forehead.
    When he glanced up, and those eyes met hers—those fascinating green eyes—she found it difficult to breathe.
    Which effectively answered her question.
    Rising to his feet, he brushed back the stray lock and, with a smile that stopped her breath completely, said, ‘Ah, so you’re up. When I checked on you a little while ago, you were still sleeping soundly. How are you feeling this morning?’
    Somehow she dragged air into her lungs and managed, ‘I’m fine, thank you.’ Seeing him start to shut down the computer, she added in a rush, ‘Please don’t stop work on my account.’
    ‘I’ve done all I need to do. How’s the ankle?’
    ‘Oh, much easier.’
    He frowned. ‘It still looks a little swollen. I’d better put another bandage on it. But first I presume you could do with a drink of some kind?’
    ‘I certainly could,’ she admitted.
    ‘Can you make it through to the kitchen without too much discomfort?’
    If she said no, he would carry her; just the thought of being lifted and held in his arms again made her feel almost lightheaded.
    Pushing aside temptation, she assured him, ‘Oh yes, I can manage quite well so long as I’m careful.’
    As they crossed the hall he slipped a hand beneath her bare elbow, sending shivers running up and down her spine.
    He seemed even taller than she remembered, and somehow his height and the mature width of his shoulders, his sheer masculinity, made her feel dainty and feminine.
    The kitchen at Hallgarth was large and airy, with all mod cons, its open windows letting in the sunshine and fresh mountain air.
    Comfortable and homely, it was fitted out like a farmhouse-style living-kitchen, with hickory furniture and an open range, which at the moment was partially screened by a vase of flame-blue delphiniums and pale-pink scented roses.
    Caris had half-expected his housekeeper to be there, but they seemed to have the place to themselves. Wondering about it, she asked, ‘Does your housekeeper live in?’
    ‘Mrs Timmins lives over the garage. But it’s her weekend off. I hope

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