Miranda Lee - The Tycoon's Trophy Wife

Now why didn’t she find that last thought comforting?

Shaking her head, Alanna tossed back the sheet and made a dash for the bathroom. Afterwards she wrapped a towel around herself and returned to her walk-in wardrobe where she gathered together some clothes. Just jeans and a light jumper today. They weren’t going out anywhere. Or entertaining, which might be good news or bad news, depending on Reece’s reaction to her this morning.

Fifteen minutes later—Alanna never bothered with makeup or an elaborate hairstyle when alone at home—she was showered, dressed and on her way downstairs to the kitchen for some much-needed coffee. At the bottom of the stairs she made a brief detour to peek in Reece’s study, but he wasn’t in there. Possibly he was out on the back terrace. That was his favourite place when the sun was shining.

As soon as Alanna entered the foyer, she could see that she was right. Reece was out on the terrace, semi-reclining on a banana chair, wrapped in his white towelling robe, sunglasses on, sipping a glass of orange juice and reading the Sunday paper. At his elbow sat an empty cereal bowl and spoon, along with the various inserts from the paper.

Alanna momentarily toyed with the idea of boldly going out there and saying good morning to him as if nothing had changed. But she was low on boldness this morning. She must have used all of her boldness quota last night.

Her stomach tightened as another memory assailed her. Had she really said those words to Reece when he’d first carried her from the garage to the bedroom?

Oh, yes, she definitely had. Maybe it was a rebellion thing. Darko would have washed her mouth out with soap. Literally.

But Reece had just laughed. Oh, how she loved him for that laughter.

Reece must have finally sensed her standing there, watching him, for his golden head suddenly whipped round. He waved the glass of juice up at her, then waved at her to come outside.

Taking a gathering breath, Alanna proceeded down the wide step that separated the foyer from the living area, bypassing the kitchen on the right as she headed for the sliding glass doors, and the terrace.

‘Have a good sleep?’ Reece asked as soon as she stepped out onto the flagstones.

‘Wonderful, thanks. And you?’ Oh God. She sounded awfully polite. As if they were hotel guests, meeting over breakfast.

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