Read Online Morelli's Mistress (Harlequin Presents) by Anne Mather - Free Book Online
Authors: Anne Mather
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demolished the café and all the other businesses on this row.
But as the door slammed behind him he wished he didn’t feel such a bastard.
CHAPTER FIVE
L UKE ’ S PLANE LANDED at Heathrow just after eight a.m.
His flight had been delayed in Hong Kong, and he’d had to kick his heels around the international airport there for more than three hours.
By the time he got out of the arrivals lounge at Heathrow and found his chauffeur, Felix, waiting for him, he was in no mood to make nice with anyone.
‘Good trip?’ queried Felix, getting behind the wheel, and Luke gave him a dour look.
‘How long have you been waiting?’ he asked, instead of answering the man, and Felix shrugged.
‘A couple of hours, give or take,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I checked the flight online and saw there’d been a delay. But I never trust those schedules. I prefer to come to the airport and see for myself.’
That, at least, drew a rueful smile from his employer.
‘They’re usually reliable, you know,’ Luke said drily. Then, hooking one ankle across his knee, he gazed out of the car’s windows at the overcast sky. ‘It’s been a long journey.’
‘I’ll bet.’ Felix glanced at him through the rear-view mirror. ‘Maybe you should have gone to Mahe, after all.’
‘Yeah.’
Luke conceded the point, but said nothing more. Maybe he should have taken Jodi to the Seychelles as he’d originally intended. But after that trip to Ashford-St-James, he’d been in no mood to spend time with another woman.
Instead, he’d spent a couple of weeks in Melbourne, catching up with what Ray Carpenter and his family were doing. And avoiding thinking about the development he’d been planning before he went away.
‘So,’ he said resignedly, ‘is there any news?’
‘I suppose it depends what you mean by news,’ replied Felix evenly. ‘Some guy involved with that site you’re hoping to develop in Wiltshire has started a petition. He’s claiming that the buildings you’re thinking of demolishing have historical significance and should be placed under a preservation order.’
Luke didn’t ask how the man had got his information. Somehow Felix always knew what was going on. But he didn’t have to think very hard to guess who he was talking about.
Greg Hughes!
So was Abby involved? He would have to find out.
* * *
It was almost dark when Abby got home after walking Harley. And raining quite heavily, too.
They’d circled the park a couple of times and then Abby had called at the local deli for groceries. She didn’t like to admit it, but it was true: Ashford-St-James did need a decent supermarket. One with its own parking area. That was one disadvantage about the café. There was nowhere to park nearby.
Not that she owned a car, she reflected with a sigh. She owned an old van that she used to collect supplies from the wholesalers, but that was all. And that had to be parked in the alley between the row of shops.
Her divorce from Harry had not been a pretty one, and, after paying for her mother’s funeral, Abby had been virtually broke. Only the modest price she’d got for her mother’s terraced house had enabled her to move away from London. But she’d been so desperate to escape, she’d have sacrificed any amount of money to be free.
She tried not to think about it these days. Leaving London had been the best thing she could have done. Had she stayed in the capital, she knew Harry would have found some way to hurt her. He was a vindictive man, and only the fear that his friends would make fun of him if he contested the divorce had forced him to let her go.
Abby let herself into the side door of the café premises and, after locking it and setting the dead bolt, she climbed the stairs to her apartment.
Harley frolicked ahead of her, full of beans after his walk. But Abby took the stairs a little more slowly, wondering how much longer she would be allowed to stay here.
It was a Friday evening, but, from her point
But as the door slammed behind him he wished he didn’t feel such a bastard.
CHAPTER FIVE
L UKE ’ S PLANE LANDED at Heathrow just after eight a.m.
His flight had been delayed in Hong Kong, and he’d had to kick his heels around the international airport there for more than three hours.
By the time he got out of the arrivals lounge at Heathrow and found his chauffeur, Felix, waiting for him, he was in no mood to make nice with anyone.
‘Good trip?’ queried Felix, getting behind the wheel, and Luke gave him a dour look.
‘How long have you been waiting?’ he asked, instead of answering the man, and Felix shrugged.
‘A couple of hours, give or take,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I checked the flight online and saw there’d been a delay. But I never trust those schedules. I prefer to come to the airport and see for myself.’
That, at least, drew a rueful smile from his employer.
‘They’re usually reliable, you know,’ Luke said drily. Then, hooking one ankle across his knee, he gazed out of the car’s windows at the overcast sky. ‘It’s been a long journey.’
‘I’ll bet.’ Felix glanced at him through the rear-view mirror. ‘Maybe you should have gone to Mahe, after all.’
‘Yeah.’
Luke conceded the point, but said nothing more. Maybe he should have taken Jodi to the Seychelles as he’d originally intended. But after that trip to Ashford-St-James, he’d been in no mood to spend time with another woman.
Instead, he’d spent a couple of weeks in Melbourne, catching up with what Ray Carpenter and his family were doing. And avoiding thinking about the development he’d been planning before he went away.
‘So,’ he said resignedly, ‘is there any news?’
‘I suppose it depends what you mean by news,’ replied Felix evenly. ‘Some guy involved with that site you’re hoping to develop in Wiltshire has started a petition. He’s claiming that the buildings you’re thinking of demolishing have historical significance and should be placed under a preservation order.’
Luke didn’t ask how the man had got his information. Somehow Felix always knew what was going on. But he didn’t have to think very hard to guess who he was talking about.
Greg Hughes!
So was Abby involved? He would have to find out.
* * *
It was almost dark when Abby got home after walking Harley. And raining quite heavily, too.
They’d circled the park a couple of times and then Abby had called at the local deli for groceries. She didn’t like to admit it, but it was true: Ashford-St-James did need a decent supermarket. One with its own parking area. That was one disadvantage about the café. There was nowhere to park nearby.
Not that she owned a car, she reflected with a sigh. She owned an old van that she used to collect supplies from the wholesalers, but that was all. And that had to be parked in the alley between the row of shops.
Her divorce from Harry had not been a pretty one, and, after paying for her mother’s funeral, Abby had been virtually broke. Only the modest price she’d got for her mother’s terraced house had enabled her to move away from London. But she’d been so desperate to escape, she’d have sacrificed any amount of money to be free.
She tried not to think about it these days. Leaving London had been the best thing she could have done. Had she stayed in the capital, she knew Harry would have found some way to hurt her. He was a vindictive man, and only the fear that his friends would make fun of him if he contested the divorce had forced him to let her go.
Abby let herself into the side door of the café premises and, after locking it and setting the dead bolt, she climbed the stairs to her apartment.
Harley frolicked ahead of her, full of beans after his walk. But Abby took the stairs a little more slowly, wondering how much longer she would be allowed to stay here.
It was a Friday evening, but, from her point
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