Far From Perfect Read Free

naked, all warmth and irresistible female perfection, his for the taking.
    Drawing in a deep, ragged breath, Nick smoothed out the increasingly water-splashed picture as best he could, remembering the thrill of running his fingertips over her body. She’d been more rounded in the darkness of his bed than she was now, the years had refined her and made her sleek and toned. But she was still that perfect vision of delicious, entrancing womanhood, and the stirring of his body only confirmed how much she moved him. He was hard now, painfully so, the sensation impossible to ignore or suppress. It was a battle he’d fought whenever they’d met since that one single night of passion in Italy.
    Dannazione ! As if the evening ahead wasn’t fraught with enough complications as it was. He half wished for the heavens to really open, and drench him to the bone, to douse his fires.
    Looking up to the night sky, Nick dragged in air, his chest expanding like an athlete’s as he composed his mind for the showdown ahead. He would achieve nothing if he lost his cool, and closing his eyes, he gave thanks for what rain there was as it pattered onto his face, soft and calming. After moment or two, he was able to look down again at the damp sheet of torn-out paper, and frowned at the fact Anna was with a man.
    If I don’t act now, I’m in trouble. She’ll settle for the latest of these bland, inoffensive nonentities she seems to go for, and that’ll mean the end of my plans, no matter how half-formed they are.
    Taking a deep breath, he folded the page again, wryly aware that he was taking the utmost care not to place a crease across Anna’s face. Then, as he slipped it back into his pocket, he squared his shoulders with purpose and strode out across the square towards the Felgate house and the party.
    Not into battle as such, though a part of him expected it.
     
     
    On hearing the front doorbell, Anna Felgate shuddered with a sudden, crawling sense of premonition.
    “Will you answer it, sweetheart?” her father asked, his eyes brightening. She knew he’d been putting a brave face on things for her sake, given all the financial uncertainty. The economic downturn had hit his manufacturing business hard, and she knew he’d been faced with some worrying numbers, but all of a sudden he looked genuinely excited and optimistic. “I just want to check something with the caterer.”
    A scan of the room revealed everything going smoothly, and drinks and nibbles circulating efficiently, but Anna shrugged. If Dad wanted to check on the catering that was his prerogative. It was his birthday. So, with a quick smile, she sped towards the front door to let in the tardy guest. She knew her late mother would have made a far more efficient hostess than she did, and it was at times like these she missed her more than usual, and longed for the sense of welcome and being cherished.
    Maybe it’s Martin? she thought, trying to squash a mild sense of unease. He’d said he’d try and get here if he could, but a craven part of her rather wished he wouldn’t make it. She was going to have to do something about herself and Martin, and do it quickly. It wasn’t fair to him, and she hated feeling like a fraud.
    The doorbell chimed again, this time long and impatiently. “Oh, keep your hair on,” she muttered. Bloody hell, if it was Martin he was being a damn sight more assertive than usual. The way he was abusing the bell reminded her much more of a certain other person. A person her father would be much happier for her to pair up with, on a permanent basis if possible.
    No, no, no! That book is closed, idiot. Locked and bound with chains and consigned to the bottom of the ocean.
    And yet, even as she tried to squelch the fantasies that even after all these years would not be squelched, her steps faltered and her heart drummed guiltily beneath the silk embroidery on her bodice.
    It was too late. She’d done it now. It could be him, even though to her