The Antique Love Read Online Free PDF Page A

postcard scene showed a palm-fringed beach in Hawaii and on the reverse, hidden inside the frame, was the simple inscription To Penny, Home soon. Love and kisses, Mum and Dad xx . It was the last communication Penny ever had from her parents before they were drowned at sea off Hawaii’s beautiful coast.
    For a wild moment, Penny imagined pulling the card out and showing it to Kurt. I haven’t travelled much myself, but my mother filmed all over the world, she could say. She was Megan Rose. You may have heard of her?’
    Her eyes flitted over the palm beach in the frame and then away. She knew revealing her background was just a fleeting thought. She’d grown weary of people’s reaction on the rare occasions when she let slip who her mother was. Disbelief unfailingly turned to a sort of pitying surprise, which people were always too late to hide from her. She knew she was plain in comparison. She just got a little tired of being reminded of it by strangers.
    “So, you were going to give me your card?” she prompted.
    This time it was Penny’s turn to be surprised. Kurt drew back in his chair. His previously cool demeanour seemed to crack a little, and she could have sworn he was a little embarrassed. He looked down at the business card in his large hand and flicked the edge of it once or twice as though unwilling to part with it. The thin cardboard made a loud thwacking sound in his fingers before he finally reached across the desk to place it in front of her.
    Penny picked it up. The white card was neat and understated. In one corner was a dark blue logo: WR . The words White River LLP were printed in the same shade of blue and under the logo, in black, the name Kurt Bold. Beneath his name was his title: Managing Partner .
    “White River,” Penny cried. “Is the river really white?”
    Kurt looked at her blankly.
    “I mean on your ranch,” she explained. “That’s why it’s called White River, right?”
    “Not exactly,” he said. Again, the tiny hesitation combined with, this time, a definite embarrassment lurking in his features. “It’s been a long time since anyone I work with has seen a wild river. I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not a cowboy, and I don’t work on a ranch.”
    “Not a cowboy!” Penny stared, trying hard not to let her astonishment show. How could this be? He came from Wyoming, and he looked like he’d walked straight in from the wide open spaces. He had that heart-stopping slow drawl and the smile. And then the clothes. Plenty of Londoners wore jeans, but they didn’t all carry them off like he did. He was masculine, and he had strength and ruggedness and sheer capability . If a bull did decide to rampage round her antique china—although Penny could never for the life of her think of any circumstance where this was likely to happen—Kurt Bold looked just the type of guy you could rely on to catch it and throw it to the ground without breaking into a sweat.
    “Don’t you even work on a ranch?” she asked hopefully.
    “No,” he said. “I told you. I’m Managing Partner at White River.” He cleared his throat before announcing, “I’m an accountant.”
    “O-o-h.” Penny’s mouth rounded again. She held his gaze, her disappointment slowly turning to understanding and then, finally, to mortification. He waited patiently whilst she computed his words. Amusement mingled with the awkwardness still there in the twist of his mouth. A rather pitying amusement, it seemed to Penny.
    “Oh, of course,” she said, lifting his card. “White River. Now I remember. Of course everyone knows White River.”
    She felt herself babbling. Everybody did know White River. Despite its romantic name, White River was a global finance firm with renowned environmental credentials. Their new offices had recently opened in London; in fact, they were just around the corner from her shop.
    Media coverage had been widespread, not least because of the building’s green, plant-clad walls, its