Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Finally, the tumbling bottles of cleaner cease, and I sheepishly look up, finding Luke in a heap by the door, holding his stomach, tears falling from his eyes.
“Ouch,” I grumble, trying to push myself up, but once again losing my footing, my arse hitting the floor. I’m well and truly pissed. “You’ll have to help me.”
He sighs, and laughs, sighs and laughs, as he sluggishly drags himself up and makes his way over to me, reaching for my hand. And in an act of pure rebellion, I take it and use all my strength to yank him forward. He gasps and tumbles down, landing in a pile of laughter next to me. And there we lie, sprawled like two crazy fools surrounded by enough cleaning detergents to keep the whole of London gleaming for a century. I sigh and drop my head to the side, finding Luke gazing at me. “Bet you’ve never had such a fun date.” I rest my hand on my belly and wipe my tears of laughter away. For the first time in years, I’m not crying tears of despair.
“I actually haven’t,” he admits, rolling into me a little. “You have a duster on your shoulder.” Reaching forward, he peels the cloth away from my dress as I chuckle and giggle some more. My chin is taken and lifted to meet his gaze. “I believe you are plastered, Mrs. Harper.” Before I can refute his claim, the door swings open, hitting various buckets and bottles in its path. Luke keeps hold of my chin as I turn my head and Amanda falls into the store room. Her startled eyes flit between Luke and me, back and forth, her face growing increasingly indignant.
“Well, you really are taking this auction seriously, aren’t you, Luke?” She looks me up and down. “Though I’m sure most men would want the money themselves to venture there.”
My mouth falls open in utter shock, and Luke’s hold of my chin tightens to the point he forces it closed. It’s not intentional. He’s angry. “Ouch,” I hiss, wincing as I knock his grip away. Oblivious to hurting me, Luke stands, squares his shoulders, and turns to face the woman in the doorway. I follow him, scrambling up from the floor, kicking various cleaning products around my feet.
“Bite me, Amanda, you vindictive bitch,” Luke mutters, pulling me out of the room. As I pass her, her lip curls, and I literally shrink on the spot.
“Nice to meet you,” I sing while staggering along behind Luke. “Oh, wait.” I drag him to a stop and take a few steps back to collect something. Amanda glares at me. I smile. “I believe this is yours.” I hand her the broomstick, and her eyes fall to it, confused, as Luke sniggers, hauling me away before she can cast a spell on us.
“Bite me?” I ask mindlessly. “Did you actually say that?”
“I was lost for words.” Luke gets us out of the building to the pavement and makes a fuss of me, pushing my hair back and scanning my face. He doesn’t look happy at all and having experienced the delightful Amanda for only a few moments, I’d say he seriously dodged a bullet. “Don’t let what she says bother you.”
“Well, she’s kind of right.” I laugh, not so much bothered, but more shocked that a woman could be so malicious towards another. But then, given my husband hasn’t touched me for two years . . .
I flinch. Am I unsightly to him now? And compared to all those perfect women inside, who are what Luke’s used to, I’m absolutely and utterly shabby. Unpolished. “Next to her, I’m kind of plain.”
“Next to her, you are a natural beauty.”
“Really, Luke?” I give him a tired look, pointing at my roots. “I haven’t had my hair colored for months.”
“I like the rooty look.”
“I hardly wear makeup.”
“Like I said, natural beauty.”
I narrow my eyes on him, and he narrows his on me, daring me to go on. My pursed lips crack, revealing a hint of a grin. “I’m really drunk.”
Luke rolls his eyes, getting me in a headlock, and starts walking us down the street. “Where to next, master?”
“Anywhere you take me,” I offer easily, craning my head to get him in my sights. “You smell of bleach.”
“So do you.” He grins, his eyes sparkling, and ruffles my hair. And I smile, clinging on around his waist for extra support.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Anywhere is a worn-out chip shop on the edge of Soho. “They do the best fish and chips in town,” Luke claims, observing my dubious expression. “We’ll order takeout and wander.”
I shrug my agreement, even though I’m not sure wandering is the best idea. My feet are screaming at me, and my brain refuses to allow me to walk in a straight line. The fresh air has hit me hard, or more like smacked me in the face.