Free Love on the Rocks by Veronica Henry Page A

yet.’
    ‘Don’t worry. You’ll pull it off.’ Richard seemed confident. ‘And remember, any help you want. With surveying. Or contractors. Any of that bollocks. Just get in touch.’
    For a moment, George felt guilty.
    ‘Shit. You’re making me feel bad now. I feel as if I’m dumping you in it.’
    ‘Listen, mate. You go for it. You’re living our dream for us. Go and show us it can be done. Then maybe we’ll all have the nerve to leave this bloody rat race.’
    Richard’s encouragement had given George the stamina for the last push. Up until that moment, he’d always known he could bail out; it was almost as if he was playing a game, going through the motions safe in the knowledge that if it didn’t come off he could be back at his desk the following Monday. But at the last minute, with Lisa and Justin’s agreement, he’d upped their offer by ten thousand. He wasn’t going to lose out for the sake of a few extra quid. And the gamble had paid off.
    ‘To The Rocks,’ he now proclaimed, holding his glass high. His elation was only pricked for a moment, as his conscience whispered to him that actually all he was doing was running away. As he swallowed down the bubbles, George wondered if North Devon was far enough.

Four
    B runo Thorne was sitting with his feet up on his desk, one arm curled around the back of his head, the other holding the phone to his ear. He didn’t like what he was hearing.
    ‘I don’t think I understand,’ he said slowly, his tone threatening, his black brows meeting in the middle.
    ‘The other side upped their offer by ten grand at the last minute.’
    ‘You should have got back to me.’
    ‘You told me categorically that was your best and final offer!’ The estate agent was indignantly defensive. ‘Anyway, it was sealed bids. I’m not supposed to know what’s in the envelope, remember?’
    ‘Come off it,’ Bruno laughed. ‘At the end of the day all you want is the best price for your client, surely?’
    ‘I’m sorry, Mr Thorne. There’s nothing I can do about it now. It’s a done deal.’
    Bruno sighed.
    ‘Any idea what their plans are?’
    ‘I’ve no idea.’
    ‘Come on!’ Bruno couldn’t hide the impatience in his voice. ‘You must have shown them round. It’s off the record. I’m going to find out sooner or later.’
    ‘They’re no real threat to you. They’ve got eight beds max. And between you and me I don’t think they’ve got much of a clue.’
    ‘Then let me know when it comes back on the market,’ Bruno replied smoothly and put the phone down.
    Bruno swept through the foyer of the Mariscombe Hotel, raking his hand through his black curls. He should have played it straight. If he’d just made a decent offer, The Rocks would have been his by now. He was pretty sure he could have second-guessed the top offer, then added on a few thousand that, let’s face it, he could afford to lose. But old habits die hard; Bruno was used to getting a bargain. He’d never paid over the odds for anything in Mariscombe. But it looked as if the tide was on the turn. People in search of a lifestyle were moving in with cash. The fiasco with The Rocks meant the goalposts were moving, and Bruno wasn’t quite so sure of the rules any more. He needed to take stock.
    A cleaner dodged out of his way, dragging an ancient vacuum in her wake. He watched her with distaste – no one should be cleaning in the middle of the day, for heaven’s sake. She’d vanished through the double doors that led to the dining room, and something made him follow her. He stood in the doorway, surveying his surroundings as if for the first time. The carpet was a deep maroon, showing up the crumbs from breakfast that still hadn’t been cleared away even though it was nearly lunchtime. The white tablecloths still displayed coffee rings and splodges of ketchup from the full English breakfast enjoyed by the coachloads of pensioners who filled the hotel in the winter months. Although full