The Flower Girls Read Online Free PDF Page A

could very easily mesmerize her if she wasn’t on her guard. It wasn’t difficult to see his attraction for Jasmine, but what was the attraction Jasmine had that had made him marry so unsuitable a woman?
    “A little,” she said, chancing a smile back.
    “We do tend to be somewhat insular.”
    “It’s like something out of Wuthering Heights .”
    “I hope it’s not that bad!”
    She tried another smile. “No, not quite.”
    “I used to travel a good deal. Now I like to stay home. Selfish of me, I suppose.”
    “It would only be selfish if you hadn’t let Jasmine know in the first place.”
    He crested a dark, silky brow at her. “She knew. But some women think they can change the way a man is.”
    “And vice-versa. I found that out to my cost.”
    “Really. The man you followed to the States?”
    “I didn’t follow exactly.” She bristled a little. “It was something we talked about. He had a good job there; it seemed the more sensible thing to do.”
    “And he thought he could change you.”
    “Somewhat.”
    Thankfully Seth Sanderson didn’t ask her in what way. That would have been difficult to answer. The man she’d imagined was the love of her life wanted a glamorous girl on his arm, someone who would be eye candy. She wasn’t into being a glamour puss twenty-four seven, there were days when she liked to be just her. Hair in a ponytail, jeans and a blouse, sneakers and long walks with the sun and wind on her face. Maybe he, like Seth Sanderson with Jasmine, had had the wrong impression of her.
    “I have a few calls to make today—would you like to come? At least you’ll see a little of the county and I have to finish in York, we could eat at a place I know.”
    “I’d love to.”
    As eager as a puppy, she admonished herself, leaping at the chance to spend time with him. No, no, she argued. It was the possibility of getting away from the house, from the dark looks that Mrs. Carrington gave to her, and that leaden sky.
    “Fine. I’ll have to leave in fifteen minutes, is that time enough for you?”
    “Sure, I’ve only to fetch my jacket and bag.”
    “I’ll see you on the forecourt. I’m taking the Range Rover.”
    * * * *
    It was warm and comfortable in the car. She snuggled down enjoying the blast of warmth from the heater. The rain came and went with dizzying fastness. A splatter and then a weak sun, odd weather. When the sun shone the countryside fairly glowed. They went by snug villages of pale stone, by inviting country inns. Over hills and down dale, climbing easily in the Range Rover. The hills had a different shade of green in the mellow sunlight, no longer drab-looking. The whole place had a definite sparkle.
    The rain was eventually beaten by the sun. A rainbow looped over the hills and she pointed it out as if it was a new phenomenon to her.
    “It’s really not so bad when the sun shines,” she clarified.
    “I love it whatever the weather. But then I was born here. I loved the hills as a boy but then I tired of it. I wanted something far more adventurous and I left.”
    “What made you come back?”
    “It didn’t pull me back, or anything as romantic. My mother left years ago, Dad was on his own and he had a stroke. I had to come back. I could have afforded to buy care but my conscience wouldn’t allow it. He died within eighteen months. At first I did resent my decision and then…” He gave her a quick glance. “The old place worked its magic and I decided to stay.”
    “What did you do? When you left here, I mean.”
    He gave her a wry look. “I was a foreign correspondent for a posh paper.”
    “Really. How exciting.”
    “Yes, I suppose it was.”
    “But you don’t seem like the tough cynical journalistic type.”
    “Believe me, I am.”
    The road straightened out. Through the windscreen she could see the beginnings of a small town. “I have to stop here. I’ll be about an hour. You might like to look around at the market. It can be