“Sorry, Kev,” he said. There was something about Fen’s frozen face these days that kept men at a distance, the way Helen’s used to. Fen lay in a bubble bath. Then, as Helen tripped over a bramble cable, Jake caught her, drawing her behind a huge beech tree, laying her against the trunk, taking her face between his hands.
“He really is world class. If he was home now, he’d probably have just come in from a show. I really want it. ”He pulled her into the shade of the great ancient four-poster and began unbuttoning her shirt.
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