Soliman, Wendy - The Name of the Game (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

shrugged. “I’ve had better days.”
    He touched her shoulder and said nothing more, for which she was grateful. She was holding herself together on willpower alone. The slightest kind word or gesture was probably all it would take to tip her over the edge.
    Ashley was determined to tear up the card that accompanied the flowers and consign it, unopened, to the bin. The last of her friends had hardly left her desk before she ripped it open, curiosity winning out over good sense. Her resolve wobbled when she recognized, not the impersonal hand of a florist, but Matt’s own distinctive script. Instead of spending two minutes phoning his order through, he’d obviously taken the trouble to visit a florist in person. Ashley told herself that it didn’t change anything and steeled herself to read his words.

    Ashley, I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know for ruining your day, darling. Unlikely as it might seem, there is an explanation, and you’ll hear it when I get back to Reigate. Trust me on that. Nothing’s changed. I loved you as much as ever.

    The card was signed simply with a flourishing, M .
    Nothing had changed! Ashley’s face heated at his downright nerve. Even so, the card never did make it to the bin and finished up securely zipped into her bag.
    The day seemed never-ending, but Ashley, calling upon reserves of strength she didn’t know she possessed, got through it without revealing to anyone the depths of her despondency. Matt, she noticed dispassionately, gave up easily. Not once had he attempted to ring her from Southampton. Not that she would have taken his call—she’d been screening her incoming ones suspiciously all day for that very purpose—but that wasn’t the point.
    When she returned home she was cheered by the sight of little Callie, leaping up and down in excitement, Freckles at her side, wagging up a storm.
    “Come on, Auntie Ashley,” she said impatiently. “We’ve been waiting for you for ages! Mummy’s got a surprise for you. It’s a birthday cake and a present,” she confided in a theatrical whisper. “Can I help you blow out your candles?”
    “Of course you can, sweetheart.” Ashley kissed her on top of her silky head and took her hand. “There must be lots of candles, so I’ll need your help. Can you blow really hard?”
    “Yes, of course.” She sucked in a massive breath, pursed her lips, and let it out in an exaggerated whoosh. “See?”
    “That should do it,” Ashley said, smiling.
    “Are you very old, Auntie Ashley?”
    “Ancient, darling, at least a hundred.”
    “A hundred!” The child’s eyes grew as large as saucers. “Wow, that really is old.”
    It was the only part of the day that Ashley really enjoyed. Callie was a typically energetic, well-adjusted four-year-old, full of questions and apt to take the answers she received literally. Thus, Ashley was obliged to give her full attention to the little girl. She actually laughed at Callie’s perspicacity, not to mention her devious attempts to distract her mother’s attention whilst she snaffled a third slice of cake. For the first time that day, Ashley could dismiss the image that had thus far haunted her every conscious moment—one of piercing silver-gray eyes concentrated disarmingly on her face—and the surging tide of emotions that vision induced.
    Ashley spent the evening at the stables, which she and Freckles could reach by walking across the fields behind their house. She was training Lucius, her eight-year-old Irish Draft gelding, in advanced dressage. There was a competition in a week’s time that she needed to prepare for. And so she celebrated her birthday alone, losing herself in the only pursuit guaranteed to dismiss Matt from her mind. She practised the seven-minute routine in the indoor school, with only Freckles for company, and managed to concentrate every part of her mind exclusively on the job in hand.
    She and Lucius understood one another instinctively and blended together so