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Come Back to Me
Come Back to Me
Come Back to Me
Ebook98 pages50 minutes

Come Back to Me

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IS SHE BRAVE ENOUGH TO EMBRACE A GHOSTLY SECOND CHANCE AT LOVE?

Shy landscape artist Annabelle Lancaster buys a quiet villa in Cornwall, away from the noise and crowds in London. Her neighbour Christopher Wells is equally reserved. She senses his attraction but is too timid to make an advance.

When the unthinkable happens - he dies in a freak accident - she's inconsolable with grief.

When she learns that he was in love with her and has left her the bulk of his large estate her grief turns to despair.

How could life be so cruel to two people who lived decent lives and always tried to help the less fortunate?

But, just when her despair leads to suicidal thoughts, the unexpected happens.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 5, 2018
Come Back to Me
Author

Meghan Alexis Moore

Meghan Alexis Moore is a demure office worker by day and a writer of steamy stories by night. If, like her, you enjoy naughty little nibbles then her stories are for you. They're short enough for you to sneak away and read on your Kindle before anyone notices that you're gone. Of course, you'll have to come up with an explanation for your restlessness and flushed face entirely on your own.Get 'Curves for the Billionaire' FREE by signing up for her newsletter: https://tinyletter.com/MeghanMooreBlog: http://bit.ly/1GUCCapTwitter: http://bit.ly/1M9FqIg

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    Book preview

    Come Back to Me - Meghan Alexis Moore

    COME BACK TO ME

    Published by SpreadEagle Publications at Smashwords

    Copyright 2016 by Meghan Alexis Moore

    All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

    The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher or author, except for brief quotes used in reviews.

    Copyright © 2016 by Meghan Alexis Moore

    All Rights Reserved.

    Published by SpreadEagle Publications.

    For the latest updates, releases and offers, subscribe to my Mailing List. You can also check out my Website and my Twitter page.

    Table of Contents

    Acknowledgement

    One

    Two

    Three

    Four

    Five

    Six

    Seven

    Eight

    Nine

    Ten

    Eleven

    Epilogue

    Thank you!

    Also by Meghan Alexis Moore

    Acknowledgement

    A big ‘thank you’ to all my wonderful readers.

    COME BACK TO ME

    IS SHE BRAVE ENOUGH TO EMBRACE A GHOSTLY SECOND CHANCE AT LOVE?

    Shy landscape artist Annabelle Lancaster buys a quiet villa in Cornwall, away from the noise and crowds in London. Her neighbour Christopher Wells is equally reserved. She senses his attraction but is too timid to make an advance.

    When the unthinkable happens - he dies in a freak accident - she's inconsolable with grief.

    When she learns that he was in love with her and has left her the bulk of his large estate her grief turns to despair.

    How could life be so cruel to two people who lived decent lives and always tried to help the less fortunate?

    But, just when her despair leads to suicidal thoughts, the unexpected happens.

    One

    My neighbour Christopher Wells moves closer to me and takes a deep, audible breath as I hand him the plate to rinse under the lukewarm running water. Startled I glance up at him and find him watching me, his grey eyes dark with an emotion I’ve seen in them sometimes but don’t understand.

    You smell nice.

    His voice slithers up my spine and I almost drop the plate in confusion. I feel a blush take over my entire face as I open my mouth to thank him for the first compliment he’s ever given me.

    No words come out.

    I want to die.

    Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you, he apologizes, giving me a lop-sided smile as he takes a step sideways.

    God, I love that smile!

    I wasn’t embarrassed, I lie, knowing that he is too much of a gentleman to contradict me. I was just a little surprised.

    Is it a new perfume? he asks.

    It’s Rose Essentielle Eau de Parfum, I tell him, by Bvlgari.

    It’s perfect for you.

    You think so? I ask, so pleased that I blush again.

    I had sprayed it on liberally—all over my naked-from-the-shower body—just for him, hoping that he would finally take some notice.

    The woman behind the sales counter at Selfridges, the condescending bitch, had told me it was too mature and sophisticated for me. There had been a 20% discount on the range and I’d defiantly bought a large bottle, just to let her know that I had enough money to buy what I wanted and didn’t give a shit about her opinion.

    I had gone to London that day to see my agent who had had several commissions lined up for me and insisted on seeing me in person. After having lunch with her and explaining for the eleventh time I didn’t want to be based in London, I’d gone to look for an outfit and accessories for Christopher’s party this evening.

    I’d also just received a large payment from the art gallery which sells some of my landscapes and with several commissions lined up for the coming months, I’d been loaded enough to be reckless. I knew the saleswoman had taken one look at my white T-Shirt, jeans and Nike trainers and dismissed me as of little consequence.

    She hadn’t known that under the drab clothing was a nymphomaniac virgin who would do just about anything, including blow tons of cash on a bottle of perfume, if it gave her a chance to blow her sexy neighbour!

    *****

    Two

    I bow my head trying to hide my tears from the other four occupants of the room.

    How can he be dead? I ask myself for the millionth time. He was only bloody twenty-eight! How can he be fucking dead when bloody eighty-nine-year-old Vivian Leather is alive and kicking? She should have been the one kicking the fucking bucket, not Chris!

    The sudden, deathly silence of the room chills me. I glance up hurriedly, worried that I had spoken the words aloud. I find four pairs of eyes, three blue and one a muddy brown, all watching me with pleased but shocked expressions.

    I feel myself blush at their attention even as I take a deep breath of relief.

    They’re all smiling so they couldn’t have heard me.

    Thank God!

    We had all been summoned to the lawyer’s rather cramped office for the eleven o’clock reading of Christopher’s will—Joseph Sinclair and his wife Elizabeth, the widowed

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