A Grand Seduction Read Online Free PDF Page B

wash away. “You want romance? Next time try landing me on something softer than the damn bathroom floor.”
    A near-playful smile parted the clouds over his eyes, though a piercing ray of danger lingered. The look, along with knees that were quivering and vocal over their mistreatment against the tile floor, prompted her to push back and rise. Halfway into the motion, however, Bruce’s arm made a miraculous recovery and he pulled her back down.
    “ Stop that,” she snapped. “I’ve got a lot of work to do on the house today.”
    His derisive snort echoed through the space. “If it’s anything like the booby trapped bathroom, I think your time will be better spent servicing my more immediate needs.”
    The need in question was at full attention. For some time now Fran noticed that her refusal and Bruce’s eventual conquest had become a vital part of his foreplay.
    “ But...you’ll be late for work.”
    “ I’m the boss there as well as here, darling. I can be late anywhere I choose.” He leaned back on both arms, grunting with another wince. “Not too rough this time. I think I broke my spine, too. I’ll probably need traction after this. So have at me gently.”
    ‘ Have at me’? A true Harlequin romance moment. What girl could ask for more?
    With a sigh, Fran resolved to make it to lunch at Odette’s that day, even if she had to blow half the bus drivers in town to get there.

Chapter Four
     
     
     
    Lunchtime found Odette’s in typical quiet chaos. Following an early morning rain, the greenery surrounding the cottage-style eatery glistened like a diamond-studded Easter egg hunt. The clouds had blown away from New Hope just in time for the group to arrive under sunny skies, underscoring the promise inherent in the town’s name.
    New Hope was an innocuous little gem on the map, nestled among the canals and river bends comprising the Delaware waterway. Two thousand residents lived in near anonymity there, tucked in along the Interstate between Delaware and Maine, as many do who find naught but peace and tranquility in their surroundings.
    The town’s media highlight came in the early nineteen eighties when a famed news reporter and her companion plunged their car into the river and drowned. Such a black splotch on New Hope’s serene history marked it as a temporary place of note—the way a highway patrolman highlights the scene of a tragedy with flares. “Something horrible happened here,” they seemed to say. “Take notice. Take care.” In an ironic twist, this particular tragedy occurred after the two had dined in the very restaurant the four friends converged upon for lunch and gossip once a week. And today, to hear tell of a very important plan.
    Fran arrived first, taking the prime seat looking straight out onto the watery landscape where the Delaware winked with some secret that glimmered up from just beneath the surface. Twyla and Ridelle arrived soon after, and as they sipped coffee and awaited the arrival of a Cherrystone clam appetizer and lettuce wraps, the irony of the vacant fourth seat set in. Dominique was nowhere to be found.
    Fran, wearing a turquoise shell with an embroidered black cardigan and black slacks—kneeling on a bathroom floor did unspeakable things to Chanel, reached out of habit to finger a necklace no longer adorning her neck. Remembering too late, she stroked her throat with a sigh.
    Ridelle caught the motion as sipped coffee that matched the brown of her Irish knit sweater, frowned, and reached for the sugar. “So how are you holding up, Frannie? Sorry I wasn’t more help when you called. Any cooking effort beyond poking holes in a cellophane wrapper and microwaving for five to seven minutes is outside my domain.”
    “ That’s okay. Twyla turned out to be a big help.”
    She turned a grateful smile on Twyla, who returned a nod of dismissal. “Hardly. I helped her make a couple dinners Bruce despised, and probably with good reason. I should have thought twice