Page 25 of Her Fantasy Husband

“Not exactly.”

She frowned. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”

…

She slept long and hard and woke with a headache.

They were going to have to talk…again…and she really hoped Josh wasn’t going to be difficult. Maybe he’d still be floating about in a happy post-coital haze. But somehow she doubted she’d be that lucky.

The weird thing was, although she’d thought about it in the car, in the end, she hadn’t had sex to hold him, or to stop him getting the annulment he was so keen on. She’d done it because she wanted him. Just once. He was her fantasy lover. And she hadn’t been able to let go of that fantasy. Not without at least one real memory.

Had it occurred to him that an annulment was no longer a viable option?

Would he be angry?

But really, it had been his fault as much as hers. Even so, she had to remember that Josh wasn’t her friend. He wasn’t her lover. He was a man she had made a business deal with who she just happened to have spent the last few years fantasizing about. In reality, he was nothing to her. And she was nothing to him. Not like all the other people and animals who relied on her.

She had to think of them and find a way to convince Josh to cooperate.

Money was out of the question. He’d clearly done well for himself.

What else could she do? Appeal to his better nature? Did he even have one?

Would he come to see her or was she going to have to see him?

And then there was Harry’s imminent arrival to deal with. Could she put him in the basement? And her grandmother and Daniel’s appointment to get through. The urge to pull the covers over her head and hide overwhelmed her.

“Lexi!”

Someone shouted up the stairs. She couldn’t tell who with the blankets over her head, and she reluctantly pushed them down and waited for more.

“There’s someone to see you.” Jean’s voice shouted up the stairwell.

Her heart sank.

Let the day commence.

…

He watched as Jean came back down the stairs. He’d heard her shout from the first floor landing.

“Lexi will be down in a moment,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“Why don’t you come through to the kitchen and wait?”

He followed her through the door and into a huge kitchen. The scent of fresh bread filled the air, and his stomach rumbled. The place was crowded. A big wooden table stood in the center of the room, a large tabby cat curled up in the middle, and people were seated all around. Two more dogs stretched out on the floor, and another chicken sat in a basket to the side of a huge empty fireplace.

“That’s Tom,” Jean said.

Tom nodded. He was a dark-haired man in his early twenties, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, his expression not particularly friendly. This was the man Lexi had mentioned last night?

“And that’s Sarah.” Jean gestured toward a woman in her early thirties who waggled her fingers at him. “And Jason and Chloe.” The boy he’d seen in the garden, his hand resting on the head of the three-legged dog, and a little girl a couple of years younger. Neither looked anything like Lexi. Who the hell were all these people?

“Hi,” he said to the room in general. “I’m Josh.”

Jean pulled out a chair from the table, gently nudged off a sleeping kitten. “Have a seat. I’m sure she won’t be long.”

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