Irresistible Temptation Read Online Free PDF

pork and beef to make a pasta sauce.
    On her way back, she passed the end of a cobbled mews and paused for a moment, looking wistfully at the narrow smart houses, painted in pastel colours. One of them she saw, even had a 'For Sale' board hanging from its first-floor balcony.
    As she hesitated a couple came out of the house opposite, walking fast, hand in hand, the girl looking up into her companion's face and laughing. Olivia stepped back to let them pass, an intense pang of envy twisting inside her as she wondered what it would be like to live there with someone you loved.
    She allowed herself to indulge a brief fantasy of being there with Jeremy. Wandering out to buy fresh croissants and oranges to squeeze for breakfast, while he stayed in bed with the newspapers. Then, later, going for a stroll together round the second-hand bookshops and junk stalls, choosing something for the house—a piece of pottery, maybe, or some glassware. Something to provide memories in the years ahead.
    She stopped herself right there. At the moment there was no guarantee that she was going to share any time with Jeremy, she thought wretchedly. Not after her appalling gaffe at Lancey Gardens.
    She shuddered as she walked slowly back up the hill, weighed down by her shopping and the remembrance of the morning's confrontation.
    Because she could just imagine the row there would be when Jeremy got back, she thought despondently.
    Declan Malone had caught her off guard—flicked her on the raw—but that was no excuse. She'd behaved like an idiot, pushing herself forward like that before she'd sussed out the situation.
    If only Jeremy had told her that he was holed up temporarily with his wife's cousin. Instead, she'd gained the opposite impression—that he had his own independent fiat, that he was making a life which she would be able to share.
    I couldn't have been listening properly, she admitted, with a sigh. Or else I simply heard what I wanted to hear.
    Nothing, but nothing was working out as she'd expected. And she could well end up on her own in one of the world's great uncaring capitals.
    Or she could go back to Bristol, she reminded herself. No one apart from Beth knew why she'd come to London, and her flatmate was too kind and loyal to have spread the word. She could probably even get her old job back.
    My God, she thought in swift horror, as she crossed the road to Lancey Terrace. That was real defeatist talk. Return to square one and occupy her familiar rut. When in fact it had been more than time for a change. For her to take hold of her life by the scruff of its neck and shake it.
    She had a career—valuable job skills to offer. She could earn her living—pay her way. She'd come to London to share Jeremy's life, not to become some pathetic dependent.
    And whatever happened, she intended to survive.
    Lifting her chin, she strode the last hundred yards.
     
    Her shopping unpacked and put away, Olivia sat down to eat her lunch and take a long look round her. The flat was starting to look occupied, and she had her small portable radio to fill the silence. She'd noticed, too, there was a TV aerial in the room. And from the information that Sasha had thrown at her earlier about Netting Hill Gate she reckoned she'd be able to rent a set quite easily.
    That will be my project for the afternoon, she thought. Keep busy—keep interested—and, above all, don't brood.
    She'd found a vase in one of the cupboards. She'd get some flowers to go in it. And some wine. If it turned out there was nothing to celebrate, then she'd drown her sorrows instead, she decided, squaring her shoulders.
    She got out her A
to
Z of London, working out the shortest route to the Gate.
    Sasha had told her she could find anything there, and that seemed to be true, she thought as she battled with the other Saturday afternoon shoppers. Like Portobello, it seemed to be fizzing with life. She gave herself time to look properly, lingering in front of boutiques and reading