Monthiers was a pretty small village and Harry’s house was barely a minute’s drive away from the barn. She knew where she was going now, and it definitely wasn’t worth driving her car. Plus the walk would do her good. She’d suggest it after today – if he left a key somewhere for her, she could let herself in. ‘Welcome to my humble abode,’ Harry said as he pulled the car onto a driveway in front of a beautiful big house. She raised her eyebrows. ‘Humble? Bloody hell, if this is humble I wonder what you class as posh.’ He smiled. ‘Come on, let’s get you set up. I don’t want to hold up your writing up any longer.’ Sydney wasn’t sure if she’d embarrassed him with her comment, or whether he didn’t know what to say, or simply didn’t want to talk about it. Either way, she got the impression that, had she been a gold digger, she’d have truly landed on her feet with Harry. The house – which was his holiday home, not his permanent residence – was bigger and nicer than even the largest property on the street she lived in back in England.
