The Aristocrat and the Single Mom Read Online Free PDF

‘We’ll see.’ She bit her lip. ‘Want to tell me about it?’
    ‘There’s nothing to tell. Other than the fact that he’s a total tyrant and too stuffy to step even a big toe out of line.’
    Kate mulled that over for a moment. ‘You know what? I don’t think you should give a moment’s notice to anything other than enjoying your honeymoon.’ A girl only got one honeymoon. ‘I’ll take care of everything at this end, including Simon. I don’t want you to give it another thought.’
    ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘Positive.’
    ‘Thanks, Kate.’
    Felice rang off. Kate turned to wait for Simon.
    When he emerged from the shop ten minutes later, she tried to wolf-whistle, but she’d never been able to wolf-whistle to save her life. Simon was definitely wolf-whistle worthy, though. ‘I’ve been dying to see your knees,’ she teased. He had great legs—strong calves, muscled thighs…even if said legs were a tad pale. A fortnight in the sun would set that to rights.
    Simon didn’t smile. ‘I feel like an idiot,’ he grumbled.
    ‘You look like a holiday-maker,’ she returned.
    Actually, he didn’t. He still looked too tense and…buttoned up for a holiday-maker.
    And a bit too crisp and clean.
    She could set that to rights, at least.
    ‘These are impossible to walk in.’ He lifted a thong-clad foot.
    ‘You’ll get the hang of them. C’mon.’
    She led him across the road, through the park and down to the beach. She kicked off her canvas tennis shoes and closed her eyes, groaning in enjoyment as she dug her feet into sun-warmed sand. Heavenly!
    She kinked open one eye and found Simon staring at her in appalled fascination—thongs still on his feet and two enormousplastic carrier bags clutched in his hands. His spine was as stiff as a surfboard. She opened her other eye and shook her head. ‘Simon, when was the last time you had a holiday?’
    ‘Holiday?’
    Hmm…That said it all, really. She took the plastic carrier bags from his hands and set them carefully on the beach beside her tennis shoes. ‘Thongs there,’ she ordered, pointing.
    He complied.
    ‘Now do this.’ She twisted her body from side to side until she’d sunk up to her ankles in sand.
    To his credit, Simon didn’t glance around to see if anyone was watching, but followed her instructions to the letter.
    ‘Doesn’t that feel glorious?’ she demanded.
    ‘Er…yeah.’
    He stared at her as if trying to work out what reaction it was she wanted. For the briefest moment her eyes stung. She wanted to yell, Don’t think about me. Do what feels good for you.
    But if he hadn’t had a holiday in a long time…
    ‘You live in Europe, right?’
    ‘Last time I checked, England was still a part of Europe, yes.’
    ‘Oh, ha ha, everyone’s a comedian.’
    He gave her a kind of half-grin. She gave him a full grin back. ‘Well, Spain is nearby, isn’t it? Don’t you go on annual holidays to…Aruba?’ She pulled the name from some dark recess of her mind.
    ‘Kate…?’
    Ooh, her name sounded divine in that to-die-for accent. She started to twist again. ‘Mmm?’
    ‘Aruba is in the Caribbean.’
    Was it? ‘What’s a holiday destination between friends?’ she said with an airy wave of her hand.
    Simon threw his head back and laughed. She watched in satisfaction. She’d find the holiday-maker in him yet. Still grinning, he gazed out over the water of the bay and she recognised the flare of yearning that lit his eyes. ‘Why don’t you go in for a dip?’
    ‘I don’t have a towel.’
    She shrugged. ‘So run across the road and buy a beach towel. Or dry off after on your T-shirt.’ That’d take the crispness out of it. In fact, it’d leave him deliciously rumpled.
    ‘What about you?’
    ‘I didn’t bring my swimsuit.’ She stared out at the water wistfully. ‘Though I have gone swimming in shorts and T-shirt more times than I can count.’ She pulled back. ‘No, no. I have to go back to work in a couple of hours. I have a