Forget Me Knot Read Online Free PDF Page A

Toby came over to the bed to say good-bye. “I’m really sorry things keep turning out like this.”
    She kissed him and told him it was OK.
    “You know what I think?” he said.
    “What?” she said from under the covers.
    “I think we should get married. That way we can take a month’s honeymoon and be sure of no interruptions.”
    She pushed back the sheets and blankets. “Hang on. You want to get married just to get a holiday?”
    “No. I want to get married because I love you. As a bonus, it would be a chance for us to get away. What do you say?”
    “That this isn’t exactly the most romantic proposal I’ve ever heard.”
    “Oh, come on, Abs—we’re not romantic types. You’d have hated it if I’d gone down on one knee at the top of the Eiffel Tower.”
    “I would?”
    “Of course. It’s the most appalling cliché.”
    “I suppose… But you could have proposed tonight over dinner.”
    “Yes, and I could also have hidden a diamond engagement ring at the bottom of your champagne glass. Tacky or what? Besides, you know you want to choose your own ring. And the firm gets a massive discount at this place in Hatton Garden.”
    “This proposal is getting more romantic by the second.”
    He shrugged. “I’m being practical, that’s all. No sense in wasting money if you don’t have to.”
    “I guess.”
    “So, what do you say?” he said, sitting himself down on the bed and taking her hand. “Will you have me?”
    She didn’t have to think. Even though she would always have to share Toby with the firm, she was in no doubt that he would always love and care for her.
    She beamed up at him. “Of course I’ll have you, you dope.”
    “Brilliant! Absolutely wonderful.” With that he took her in his arms and kissed her on the lips with such passion that she found herself begging him to come back to bed. “Come on,” she giggled, reaching for his belt buckle. “Just for five minutes. I bet you anything you could do it this time.”
    “Behave.” He smiled, gently removing her hand. “I’ve got to run or I’ll miss my train.”
    He rang her at six to say the meeting was running on and could she change the dinner reservation he’d made from eight to nine. An hour later he was on the phone again to say negotiations had reached a stalemate and he was going to spend the night in Brussels. “Abby, I am so, so sorry. I will make this up to you. Somehow.”
    “Right,” she said, making no attempt to hide her hurt.
    “Oh, Abs, don’t be like that.”
    But she couldn’t help it.
    He stayed in Brussels two more days.
    “You know, Toby, this really has got to stop,” she said during one of their late-night phone calls. “Not just for me, but for you, as well. They’re working you far too hard. You’re going to get ill.”
    “I know. I know. When this case is over I’ll talk to one of the partners.”
    Abby decided not to go home. She wasn’t about to give up five nights in a suite at the Georges Cinq. Instead, she played tourist and shopped.
    Toby made it back to Paris on the fifth night, full of apologies and promises that he would never allow anything like this to happen again. After presenting her with the biggest bottle of Chanel No. 5 she had ever seen, he announced that he had booked them a table at L’Orangerie. With its three Michelin stars, people waited weeks for a table, but Toby had a friend who worked on the Paris stock exchange and knew the maître d’. The man had managed to pull a few strings.
    “So, can you forgive me for treating you so badly?” he asked over dinner.
    She took another bite of heavenly, melt-in-the mouth duck confit with orange compote and grinned. “Oh, I think I can probably find a way.”
    SHE PICKED up the Piccadilly Line at King’s Cross. It was only as she sat down and counted the stops to Covent Garden that she remembered—to her horror—that the station had no escalator. Covent Garden station was so deepthat it had an elevator. Suddenly her