Lisi thought of her mother’s house and gave a slow smile. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said in a soft voice, and smiled. ‘Very, very definitely.’
He smiled back, but the smile died on his lips as he forced himself to look away from the slender outline of her legs, relieved when Langley High Street came into view and he was able to draw up outside her office.
‘Thanks very much,’ she said as she began to push open the door. ‘I enjoyed that!’
‘No, thank you,’ he said gravely, but as soon as she had slammed the door closed behind her, he made the car pull away. He didn’t want to watch her confident young stride as she walked to the office, or the way her firm young breasts pushed against her soft, clinging sweater.
Lisi saw Philip seven, maybe eight times after that—on a purely professional basis. Sometimes Jonathon would accompany him on the viewings, but mostly it was her. For some reason she grew to know his tastes better than Jonathon. Often she would mentally reject a house once she had skimmed through the details, then phone him and suggest that he might like to see it.
‘Do you like it?’ he would demand.
She hesitated.
‘Do you, Lisi?’
‘I don’t think it’s quite what you’re looking for.’
‘Then I won’t waste my time coming to see it.’
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