Page 14 of Sun, Sea & Strawberry Shortcake
Not wanting to seem like a sex maniac, though, I smile up athim. ‘Of course it does. You need to sort it out.’ I shrug. ‘Don’t worry aboutme. I’ll just clear away and watch a bit of TV in bed. It’ll be quite a luxurysince I don’t have a TV in my bedroom at home.’
‘Great. I promise I won’t be long. An hour, tops, I shouldimagine.’ He kisses me and disappears with his laptop.
I take my time clearing things away and setting off thedishwasher. Then I go upstairs and get into bed. But annoyingly, the remote forthe TV doesn’t seem to work and obviously we haven’t brought batteries.
I’ve forgotten to bring any books to read so instead I pickup the leaflet on the bedside table and start reading about the history of the village.
Apparently, back in the 1970s, a wealthy philanthropistbuilt a hotel and apartments at the north end of Port Castleton Bay and set upa charity which offered a week’s holiday to deserving families, who couldn’t otherwiseafford a holiday by the sea. The charity organisation, which is still going tothis day, has since acquired a lot of the holiday properties dotted around thevillage, including Moonstone Cottage, according to the map. And the proceeds fromthe holiday rental business go towards ensuring the charity can continue itsgreat work.
I lie there, thinking about this. What a wonderful thing todo... deciding to share your wealth with others lessfortunate like that...
When I finally drift off, though, it’s not the vision of a kindly,rich philanthropist and children playing happily on the beach that accompaniesme to sleep-land.
My dream actually involves getting naked in the hot tub withHudson. And it’s all going splendidly – until he nibbles my ear and asks if Ifancy being a little more adventurous.
And trying a threesome with the woman next door...
CHAPTERSEVEN
The next morning when I wake, Hudson’s already up. Ican hear him moving around downstairs in the kitchen. And a moment later, hecomes into the bedroom bearing a tray, complete with floral tea towel ‘traycloth’, a bunch of sweet peas from the garden in a milk bottle, and a mug.
‘Oh.’ Laughing, I struggle to a sitting position and heholds the tray aloft, waiter-style, and says gravely, ‘Your early morning tea,Madam.’ He sets the tray on the bed. ‘This is an apology for being very boring andworking last night. It would have been a full English breakfast. But you don’teat breakfast.’
‘Tea is just fine, thank you.’ I pick up the mug and take asip. ‘And just the way I like it.’
‘Excellent. The next part of the apology is waitingdownstairs.’
‘Ooh.’ I settle myself more comfortably against the pillows.‘Well, don’t keep me in suspense.’
‘It’s a glorious day out there and Joanna recommended wevisit a little cove she found when she was exploring the other day. You have towalk through woods to get to it, but that’s why it’s so secluded.’
‘Sounds interesting,’ I say, stiffening slightly at themention of Joanna. It’s illogical of me to be miffed, I know, but why did ourday out have to beheridea?
‘So I’ve been out to the shops to buy a picnic.’
‘A picnic?’
He nods. ‘And not just any old cheese sandwich and packet ofcrisps, either. I’ve got prawns and avocados and mayonnaise in that nutty breadyou like, fresh from the bakery.’
I give an appreciative chuckle. ‘Youhavebeen busy.’
‘Oh, yes. And you have a choice of lemon posset or chocolatemousse for afters.’
‘Do I have to choose? Can’t I have both?’
‘You,mon petit chou, can have whatever you like,’ hesays in an exaggeratedly fake French accent.
‘You do realise you just called me a little cabbage.’
‘Ah,non,ma petite cherie!’ He looksoffended. ‘A “chou” is a cream bun, ees it not?’
I laugh. ‘Yes, and it’s also a cabbage. But I believe it’s aterm of endearment in France, calling someone a little cabbage, so I’ll takeit. Hey, where are you going?’
‘I’m running Madam a bath,’ he calls. ‘So just sit back anddrink your tea and come through when you’re ready.’
‘Okay.’ I settle myself back against the pillows, cradlingmy tea, thinking how lucky I am to be in love with a man like Hudson. Heobviously felt he’d ruined my night and he’s decided to make it up to me.Actually, all he needed to do was wake me up with a kiss and I’d have forgivenhim on the spot – if there was anything to forgive, which there isn’t. Work isimportant.
But I’m more than happy to go along with his plan for a veryprivate picnic-for-two in a secluded cove. Just the idea of being alone withhim on a deserted beach, bodies glowing in the sun, waves lapping on the shore...Hudson’s strong hands rubbing sun cream into my back...
