Even a Diamond can be shattered...
After the owner of a security company is murdered, his sharp-edged wife goes on the run. Forced to abandon everything she holds dear - her home, her friends, her job in special ops - she builds a new life for herse...
The rain returned to torment us the following week, which meant I had the constant joy of eight muddy horses, and worse, I discovered one of my boots leaked.
By the time Friday evening arrived, I was dead on my feet, and I began to see the attraction of Susie's spa. All I wanted was to sink into a hot bath with a glass of wine, but as I didn't have a bath or any wine, that option was out. And if yesterday and the day before's showers were anything to go by, I didn't have any hot water either.
So I did the next best thing. I changed into my newly acquired yoga pants, wrapped the duvet around myself, then settled onto the good end of the sofa to watch a movie about mutant guinea pigs.
The opening credits were barely over when my phone rang on the other side of the room. Why did phones do that? It was as if they instinctively knew when you'd just got comfortable. With a sigh, I levered myself up and went to answer it.
"Are you still on for poker this evening?"
As I hadn't heard from Luke, I'd assumed he'd changed his mind.
"I thought you'd forgotten about that."
"Of course I didn't. I've been looking forward to seeing you all week. Do you want me to pick you up?"
At least his memory was better than his communication skills. I almost wished it wasn't, because I could do without going outside in the rain again. Then I looked over at the TV where the guinea pigs were doing a hula-hula dance. Oh dear. Perhaps going out was the lesser of two evils.
"A lift would be good if you don't mind?"
"It's no trouble. I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Can you make it half an hour? I need to take a shower, but I've been putting it off due to a lack of hot water."
"It's broken?"
"Yup, for three days now. George promised to look into it, but he has no sense of urgency when it comes to these things."
Although I imagined if it was him who had to take a cold shower, he'd get onto it pretty sharpish.
"Why don't you bring your stuff with you? I can spare some hot water."
Hallelujah. "I'm not going to turn down that offer. Ten minutes, then."
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As Luke swung left into his tree-lined drive, I got my first glimpse of his home. An imposing wall hid the house from the road, but as we rounded a curve, it came into view, lit up by spotlights at the front. The style was mock-Tudor—all exposed beams and imitation leaded light windows.
I couldn't make up my mind whether I liked it or not.
The impeccably decorated, chintzy interior wasn't what I'd expected from a bachelor pad. An overstuffed sofa and ornate credenza flanked the front door, although the fake flowers on the latter looked kind of dusty. Either Luke had been exploring his feminine side, or he'd had help.
