by Maggie Cox
And better.
We went to St Kilda to the lovely bitty shops and I found these miniature Russian dolls. They were tiny, made of tin or something, the biggest no bigger than my thumbnail. Every time we opened them, there was another tiny one, and then another, all reds and yellows and greens.
They were divine.
We were facing each other, looking down at the palm of my hand, and our heads touched.
If I put my hand up now, I can feel where our heads touched.
I remember that moment.
I remember it a lot.
Our heads connected for a second and it was alchemic; it was as if our minds kissed hello.
I just have to touch my head, just there at the very spot and I can, whenever I want to, relive that moment.
So many times I do.
‘Get them.’ Hugh said, and I would have, except that little bit of tin cost more than a hundred dollars and, though that usually wouldn’t have stopped me, I wasn’t about to have my card declined in front of him.
I put them back.
‘Nope.’ I gave him a smile. ‘Gotta stop the impulse spending.’
We had lunch.
Out on the pavement and I can’t remember what we ate, I just remember being happy. Actually, I can remember: I had Caesar salad because it was the lowest carb thing I could find. We drank water and I do remember not giving it a thought.
I was just thirsty.
And happy.
He went to the loo and I chatted to a girl at the next table, just chatted away. Hugh was gone for ages and I was glad I hadn’t demanded Dan from the universe, because I would have been worried about how long he was taking.
Do I go on about the universe too much? I don’t know, but what I do know is that something was looking out for me, helping me to be my best, not to **** this up as I usually do. You see, we walked on the beach, we went for another coffee and by that time it was evening and we went home and he gave me a present.
Those Russian dolls.
I held them in my palm, and it was the nicest thing he could have done for me.
They are absolutely my favourite thing and I’ve just stopped to look at them now. I’ve just stopped to take them apart and then put them all back together again and I can still feel the wonder I felt on that day.
He was the only man who had bought something for me, I mean something truly special. Something beautiful, something thoughtful, something just for me.
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for more free ebooks uploaded by our generous members All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
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First published in Great Britain 2012
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited.
Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road,
Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Maggie Cox 2012
ISBN: 978-1-408-97351-6
Table of Contents
Cover
Excerpt
About the Author
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Preview
Copyright
Table of Contents
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