After a long, restless night, Abby skipped breakfast in an attempt to get to Grace’s and start her round of deliveries on time. One moment she was hurrying down the stairs, car keys in hand, parka thrown over her arm…the next, she wasn’t sure what happened, or how, only that the world seemed to blacken at the corners, like the edges of an old photograph curling upwards. And then she wasn’t aware of anything at all. When she woke, she felt as if she were swimming upwards through water, to a surface in the distance hazy with sunshine. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking several times as the world came into focus once more. She was in a hospital bed, and Luc was sitting next to her. It took another couple of blinks before she was able to see him properly. He radiated tension. He was leaning forward in the hard, plastic chair that was painted a virulent shade of orange, his forearms braced on his thighs, his face drawn into a rather ferocious expression. ‘Oh, come on,’ Abby said, and was amazed at how rusty her voice sounded.
What do You think about Count Toussaint’s Pregnant Mistress?
