Page 91 of Slow Burn Summer

She knew from Charlie that it was Hugh who’d arranged Pink Cottage for her rather than the publishing team. He’d also insisted she receive a full half of the royalties fromThe Power of Love,which given its bestseller status around the globe, had turned out to be a not-inconsiderable sum.

His pen hovered over the page for a few long seconds before he wrote anything, because his usual stock greeting wasn’t going to cut it for this one.

Kate swallowed down the ache of emotion in her windpipe as the queue manager approached to move things along, oblivious to the momentous meeting happening in front of her eyes. She nodded, moving to pose for a photograph together beside the Christmas tree.

“Just one second,” Hugh said, as she handed her phone to the assistant in charge of taking photos. “Come here, Diz.”

A massive Irish wolfhound climbed out of a basket besideHugh’s signing table and ambled over to pose between them, clearly used to being called for photo duty. She was a very Hugh kind of dog: grizzly exterior, gentle on the inside. Her presence at the signing didn’t come as a surprise to Kate. Dizzy had been the star of Hugh’s social media pages ever since he’d adopted her from a rescue center the previous winter. She was as much in demand at his social events as he was.

“I tried calling her Dismal but it didn’t suit her,” Hugh said quietly. “She’s just too damn sweet.”

Kate laughed, her hand resting on the dog’s huge head, Hugh’s arm around her shoulders as they looked down the lens and smiled for the camera.

“Give Charlie my best,” he said.

She nodded. “Happy Christmas, Hugh,” she said.

“You too.” He hugged her quickly and pressed a kiss against her cheek. “Now get out of here before these avid detective fans put two and two together and mob you,” he said, handing her the book back.

She smiled and pulled her cap down low, leaving the shop with the book pressed tightly against her chest.

For Kate,

The best guardian angel this book, author, or T-Rex could ask for.

With our eternal thanks and admiration,

Hugh, Eleanor & Dizzy x

ACTUAL DELETED SCENE…

Prologue

“I know you’re in there,Hugh, so do us both a favor and open the bloody door, would you? The motorway was hellish and I’m a woman of a certain age in need of the bathroom and a G&T, heavy on the G, four ice cubes, and a good squeeze of lime. Don’t even think about bullshitting me with lemon, I’m not in the mood.”

Low evening sunlight glinted off the eye-watering antique diamond on Fiona Fox’s hand as she drummed her fingernails against the sun-bleached doorframe of the impressive Cotswolds pile, secure in the knowledge that Hugh Hudson would eventually do as she’d demanded. More than twenty years spent as both his literary agent and his friend told her that he was in need of intervention, hence the reason for turning up unannounced on a Friday evening with her weekend case and iron-will determination.

She lowered her huge sunglasses on their golden chain and reached for the handle of her suitcase as she heard movement in the hallway.

“Well, you look rough,” she said, when he finally opened the door.

“I wasn’t expecting visitors,” he said.

“Ever again?” she said, eyeing the dark shadows beneath Hugh’s eyes and the stubble that was more of an unkempt beard.

“Hello to you too, Fi,” he sighed. “Is there any point in me saying this isn’t a good time?”

“I mean, you can try,” she said, pushing her case at him. “Take that, will you?”

“I’m going away.” He glanced at his wrist where his watch used to be. “Tonight, actually. In about half an hour.”

Fiona completely ignored him, her heels clicking on the terra-cotta tiles as she headed through the house toward the kitchen.

“Is Dilly away?” Her nose twitched as she took in the mess of used glasses and empty bottles, the unwiped surfaces, the piles of clutter.

Hugh pushed a hand through his hair, irritated. “I let her go.”

“You let the one person standing between you and dysentery go?” Fi said. “When?”

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