Page 54 of The Village Inn of Secret Dream

‘Never thought Belle Clarke would ignore a comment like that,’ he said. ‘Normally you would have decked me for flirting with you.’

She shrugged her bare shoulders. ‘I’m in an awfully good mood this morning,’ she told him, with a smile. ‘So I let that one go.’

Pete nodded thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps I should have installed the heating first,’ he said, with an even cheekier grin.

‘Perhaps you should have done,’ she said, before heading over and slowly clicking the door shut.

She could hear his soft laughter as he walked away down the corridor.

The heat was still burning her cheeks and it had nothing to do with the central heating, nor the hot water. It had all to do with Pete’s flirting.

In that moment, she realised that she was developing a very serious crush on Pete.

Pete was still smiling to himself as he headed down the stairs and into the inn lounge.

Funny how the small changes could have a big effect on a person, he thought. Especially Belle, of all people.

He hadn’t expected to see her in just a bath towel that morning and had been a bit stunned when she had suddenly come out of the bathroom.

He stopped walking as he came into the bar. He could still smell her soft shower soap. Could still see the droplets of water on the creamy skin of her shoulders.

She had no right to look that beautiful first thing in the morning, he told himself. He was used to pretty but prickly Belle. Not the warm, giggling, semi-naked apart from a bath towel Belle.

She had never looked more desirable and he had to reach out for the counter to steady himself.

Well, this wouldn’t do, he told himself. He couldn’t fancy Belle. He and Josh had always referred to her as their little sister and that was how it would remain.

And yet, his quickened breath and the racing pulse told him otherwise. The vision of how good she had looked in that bath towel kept floating into his mind.

He shook his head to clear the vision, but it wouldn’t go away. The trouble was, having seen her in just that towel, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to think of her as just Belle ever again.

30

Later on that morning, despite the hot shower that she had enjoyed, Belle’s good mood had faded somewhat.

‘It may be warmer in here, but I’m so fed up of dusting each and every day,’ she said, wiping the counter clean and showing Pete the results on the other side of the dishcloth. She already felt in need of another glorious power shower.

He grimaced at the dirt. ‘It’s the plaster,’ he told her. ‘The dust gets everywhere.’

‘I know,’ said Belle. ‘I’m worried that my hair looks permanently grey,’ she told him, patting her head.

‘Maybe it’s just turning grey from living with me,’ he replied.

She smiled. ‘Maybe,’ she said.

He walked away and she thought how fine a pair of jeans could cling to a fine pair of legs.

She had to wake up from this dream, she told herself. Otherwise who knew where it would lead to. And she knew that the result would always be the same when it was to do with love. Pain and heartache. Neither of which she had any desire to endure.

After all, weren’t her aunt and uncle a prime example of love going wrong? They were now in Florida and had rung her to chat about their trip to the Everglades.

‘I got bitten to death,’ Aunty Angie had said, showing her arm dotted with mosquito bites. ‘And those alligators are scary.’

‘That’s because their mouths are almost as large as yours,’ Uncle Mick had murmured.

Unfortunately, Aunty Angie had heard him and the call had finished in the midst of yet another argument.

Love was definitely something to be endured, thought Belle.