Anyway she seemed well on it. Money in the bank; a new mortgage and enough over for a first class flight back to Aussie to see the boyfriend. Tongues wagged and word had got around but she didnt seem to care. So it was urgent that Emma got to her to speak to her, got across the room through the party to ask for the number, got the number without drawing too much attention to herself. Which she succeeded in doing. Wrote the number on the back of her hand in eyebrow pencil and promised herself not to get so drunk that she would wash it off in forgetfulness. A number for emergency purposes only...
The afternoon sun spilled round the edges of the curtains. Floral landscaped lights danced and meandered across Emmas body, naked and stretched across their bed. Donovan surveyed her. The pale bobbed hair. The oh so English flush...barest peach cheeks and marble white skin. Eyes brushed powder blue and dainty lips. Her impeccable vowels would outlive the lipstick barely clinging since he had ...
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