After just a few minutes, she had sounded so much more energetic and confident than she’d been in London, only two days ago. She really loved her work, loved those dusty libraries and archives, those steamy greenhouses and rows of young plants. If she could find a good therapist who could help her get the rest of her life under control, she’d soon find a man who deserved her way more than Francesco Di Bartoli did.
Rox held her breath, waiting for her sister’s reaction to what she’d said about her own recent phone conversation with the man.
“Oh, you did? An absolute, one hundred percent no?” Rowie said.
“Um, yes. Pretty much one hundred percent, I’d say.”
Okay, she really had to breathe now. Before this next bit. The bit that might have Francesco arguing to his older brother that the American garden expert should be sacked on the spot and replaced with someone who had a more appropriate idea of her humble place in the Di Bartoli universe.
Вы ознакомились с фрагментом книги.
Приобретайте полный текст книги у нашего партнера: