His profile lit by the dawn light showed a faint shadow of stubble and the beginning of a slackening of his jawline. But Andrew was still a handsome man in his late forties. Holly was forty-five. Did he think she was still as attractive as she had been when they’d met? She had been pretty enough at twenty-two to be offered a modelling contract overseas. Andrew had proposed when she told him about it. So she’d chosen Andrew. It was many years before she realised he had given her no choice. She’d dabbled at things, but two children quickly came along and there had never been time for her to consider a career. A devoted mother and the wife of a successful architect, she had spent her days running a beautiful home and garden, and smoothing out the wrinkles in her family’s lives. Now it was time for a change – a decision she had made and gently orchestrated. She was still amazed Andrew had agreed to the whole Bay idea. Although, he had made vague remarks about ‘perhaps doing some business with people from up that way’.
