A Price Worth Paying?. Trish Morey. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Trish Morey
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Modern
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472001948
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       About the Author

      USA Today bestselling author, TRISH MOREY, just loves happy endings. Now that her four daughters are (mostly) grown and off her hands having left the nest, Trish is rapidly working out that a real happy ending is when you downsize, end up alone with the guy you married and realise you still love him. There’s a happy ever after right there. Or a happy new beginning! Trish loves to hear from her readers – you can email her at [email protected]

      A Price Worth Paying?

      Trish Morey

Mills & Boon logo

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ISBN: 978-1-472-00194-8

      A PRICE WORTH PAYING?

      © 2013 Trish Morey

      Published in Great Britain 2020

      by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

      All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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       Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       EPILOGUE

       About the Publisher

       CHAPTER ONE

      FELIPE WAS DYING. Six months to live. Maybe twelve at a stretch.

       Dying!

      Simone swiped away a tear from her cheek, stumbling a little as she ran between the rows of vines clinging to the mountainside. Her grandfather would hate it if he knew she was crying over him. ‘I am old,’ he’d said, when finally he’d let her learn the truth, ‘I’ve had my time. I have few regrets …’ But then his eyes had misted over and she’d seen the enormity of those ‘few’ regrets swirling in their watery depths.

      The sorrow at losing his wife of fifty years to her battle with cancer.

      The despair when his recently reconciled daughter and her husband—Simone’s parents—were lost in a joy flight crash whilst holidaying not three months later.

      And the shame of succumbing to drink and then to the cards in the depths of his resultant depression, gambling away three-quarters of the estate before he was discovered and dragged bodily from the table by a friend before he could lose his own home.

      It was the regret that was killing him. Oh yes, there was cancer too—that was doing its worst to eat away at his bones and shorten