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British Bachelors: Gorgeous and Impossible: My Greek Island Fling / Back in the Lion's Den / We'll Always Have Paris

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2019
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Mark’s face instantly relaxed into an expression of pure delight. ‘Here. This might help. They are both total scamps, but you have to admit they’re adorable.’

He dived into his trouser pocket and pulled out a state-of-the-art smartphone which made Lexi drool with envy. His fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard and a few seconds later he scooted his chair closer to hers so that she could watch the surprisingly clear images come alive on the small screen.

His body was pressed tight against hers all along one side of her capri pants and sleeveless top, and at another time and another place she would have called it a cuddle. He was so close that she could feel the golden hairs on his tanned arms against her bare skin, the heat of his breath on her neck, and the smell of his expensive designer cologne filled her head.

The overall effect was so giddying that it took her a moment to realise that he was looking at the phone rather than her, and she forced her eyes to focus on the video playing on the screen.

It was Mark. Playing with two of the cutest little boys on a sandy beach. They were making sandcastles and Mark, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, was helping the youngest to tap the sand into his bucket with great gusto while his brother danced around with a long piece of seaweed. All three of them were laughing their heads off, and seemed to be singing silly, glorious nursery rhymes. Pure childish joy and delight beamed out from the brightly coloured images in front of her. They looked so happy.

Mark with his nephews. Caught in the moment. Living. Showing his love in every single laugh and smile and hug.

She glanced up at this man whose face was only inches away from hers. He was the real deal. He had taken time out from his international business to go to the beach with his nephews and simply enjoy them.

Her heart broke all over again.

Only this time it was not for Mark. It was for herself.

When had she ever done that? When had she made the effort to spend time with her mother’s soon-to-be step-grandchildren or her friends’ children? Or her neighbours? She hadn’t. She’d chosen a job where the only children she met belonged to her clients—that way she could share their family life second-hand.

The truth of the life she had created for herself jumped out from that simple holiday video that Mark kept on his phone because he loved those boys so very much and it slapped her across the face. Hard.

She’d told herself that she wasn’t ready to adopt a child as a single mum, after seeing what her mother had gone through, but the truth was simpler than that.

She was a fraud. And a liar. And a coward.

She was too scared to do it alone. Too scared to take the risk.

And here she was, trying to tell Mark Belmont how to live his life, when he was already way ahead of her in every way. He had chosen to fill his life with real children who loved him right back. Damn right.

‘I think the best thing is probably to trawl the shops and throw myself on the mercy of the lovely ladies who work there.’ Mark smiled, totally unaware of the turmoil roiling inside her head and her heart.

And she looked into those eyes, brimming with contentment and love for those two little boys, and thought how easy it would be just to move a couple of inches closer and kiss him the way he had kissed her under the stars. And keep kissing him to block out the hard reality of her empty life.

Bad idea. Seriously bad idea.

She could never give him, or any man, the children he wanted. And nothing she could do was going to change that.

Suddenly it was all too much. She needed to have some space from Mark. And fast.

‘Great idea,’ she gushed. ‘I think I’ll take a walk and meet you back here.’

Throwing her new sandals into her bag, Lexi stood up and, with one quick wave, took off down the stone wall of the harbour towards the port before Mark had a chance to reply.

White-painted wooden fishing boats with women’s names lined the harbour between the marina and the commercial port, and Lexi forced herself to try and relax as she sat down on a wooden bench under the shade of a plane tree and looked out across the inlet to the open water between Paxos and Corfu.

The hydrofoil was moored at the dock and had just started loading passengers. For one split-second Lexi thought about running back to Corfu so she wouldn’t have to face Mark again. All she had to do was buy a ticket and she could be on her way before he even knew she was gone.

Leaving Mark and his life and Crystal Leighton’s biography and everything that came with it behind her.

Stupid, self-deluded girl. Lexi sniffed and reached for a tissue.

Other passengers had started to mill about. A taxi pulled up and a gaggle of suntanned tourists emerged, loaded down with holiday luggage, laughing and happy and enjoying their last few minutes on Paxos. Local people, children, workers, a few businessmen in suits. Just normal people going about their normal business.

And she had never felt lonelier in her life.

A stunning sailing yacht with a broad white sail drifted across the inlet on the way into the long safe harbour at Gaios, and Lexi watched as it effortlessly glided through the water.

She was simply overtired, that was all. Too many sleepless nights and tiring days. She would be fine once this assignment was finished and she was back in London with her mother.

And what then?

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Her mother had found a lovely man who was almost good enough for her. And even better, he had given her the grandchildren—his grandchildren—that she longed for, whom she already worshipped and spoilt terribly.

So where did that leave Lexi?

Alone. Directionless. Existing rather than living. Filling her life with frenetic activity and people and places and travel. On the surface it looked exciting—a perfect job for any single girl.

How had she become the very thing that she despised?

A parasite, living her life through second-hand experiences, listening to lovely people like Mark talk about their families, sharing their experiences because she was too pathetic and cowardly to have her own love affairs, her own family.

The people on that boat were free to go where they wanted. Moor up anywhere, take off when they wanted. And she felt trapped. No matter how far she travelled, or whatever she had achieved in her life, she simply could not escape the fact that she was childless and would probably be so for the rest of her life.

So why had she not done something to change that fact instead of blocking it out? When had she turned her back on her dreams and thrown them into the ‘too hard to deal with’ box?

She had talked to her mother about giving up full-time work and writing her own stories, but it had always seemed like a dream.

Well, the time for dreaming was over. She had her own home and could work part-time in London to pay the bills. Surely there was some publisher who’d like to work on her children’s books? It would probably take years to be a financial success, but she could do it. If she was brave enough.

Couldn’t she?

Lexi was so distracted by the yacht as it sailed past that when her cell phone rang she picked it up immediately, without even bothering to check the caller identity.

‘Lexi? Is that you? Thank goodness. I’m so pleased to have caught up with you.’

Great. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse. It was the talent agency. Probably checking up on her to make sure that the project was on track.

‘You’re not going to believe who we have lined up for your next writing assignment, Lexi. Think America’s favourite grandmother and cookery writer. It’s the most amazing opportunity, but we do need to get you out to Texas on Sunday, so you can interview all of the darling children who are staying at the ranch. Of course it’ll be first class all the way and … Lexi? Are you there? Hello?’

Mark flicked down the prop stand on his scooter, whipped off his crash helmet and looked out across the road towards the hydrofoil, then breathed a huge sigh of relief

Standing on the edge of the pier, on the harbour wall, was Lexi Sloane.

And as he watched Lexi drew back her arm and threw her purple telephone with all her might over her head and into the air.

She simply stood there, panting with exertion and the heat and horror as her precious link to the outside world, her business contacts, her lifeline to business that never left her side, made a graceful arc into the sea.

It hit the waves with a slight splosh and was gone.
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