Escape for Christmas Read Online Free Page B

up. It was time to distract her friend before she invited a TV sex therapist to stay at Kenniston, or something equally embarrassing.
    “I’m just moaning,” she insisted quickly. “It really is fine.”
    “Don’t fib to me,” said Angel sternly. “I’m not your boyfriend.”
    Gemma shrugged. “All couples go through phases like this.”
    Angel looked like she didn’t believe this for a second. She bit her full bottom lip thoughtfully for a moment and then clapped her hands.
    “Eureka! I’ve got the solution! I feel like Pythagoras did in the bath!”
    “Archimedes,” Gemma corrected. “Pythagoras was triangles.”
    Angel rolled her eyes. “Triangles, baths, whatever. Who cares? What matters, Gem, is that I have had a brilliant idea that’s guaranteed to put the spice back into your love life.”
    Placing a twenty-pound note onto the table, she jumped to her feet and picked up her bag while Gemma stared at her with a growing sense of doom. It was too late: Angel was up and running with a plan.
    “Come on, then! Don’t just sit there!” cried Angel when Gemma didn’t budge.
    “Where are we going?” Gemma asked, warily.
    But Angel just tapped her nose and winked. “Somewhere that will help you give Cal more than a cream horn! Trust me, it’ll be brilliant! Now come on!”
    Fired up, her friend was already heading down the narrow stairs and out into the Christmas crowds. With a sinking heart, Gemma gathered up her bag and coat and followed her. Like it or not, it seemed that her love life was now well and truly in Angel’s beautifully manicured hands.
     

Chapter 3
    “Pulse? This is your brilliant idea?”
    Gemma stood on the pavement outside the Truro store, certain that her face was as red as the sexy Mrs Santa outfits in the window. All around her a tide of shoppers flowed through the town and she was dreadfully aware that her mother’s WI friends were probably among them. Cornwall was a surprisingly small place and Demelza Pengelley would know that her daughter was in a, shock horror, sex shop, before you could say buzzing bunny.
    “Like duh! Of course!” Angel looked thrilled with herself. “Where else do you go when you want to spice up your love life?”
    “A sex shop?” Gemma was poised to flee. Oh God! Was that Mrs Tremaine from the neighbouring farm, just crossing the road?And what if her old English teacher came wandering by? She’d just die!
    “Sex shop? What century are you in?” Angel grinned. “Haven’t you read Fifty Shades of Grey ? This is all mainstream now.”
    Actually Gemma hadn’t read the infamous bestseller – and she didn’t intend to, either. Call her old fashioned, but whipping didn’t really do it for her (unless you counted whipping cream for the delicious melt-in-the-mouth éclairs she made), and after several bossy boyfriends, being dominated held about as much appeal as tucking into a bowl of vomit. No, when it came to her reading material, Gemma was a Mills and Boon girl. She wanted her brooding alpha male and to be swept off her feet, but she’d rather he did it in a sumptuous boudoir full of drifting muslin drapes and plump cushions than in a room of pain – red or any other colour. Oh dear. Did that make her boring? Was that the problem? Was Cal bored?
    She glanced at the window display. It all looked innocent enough from the safety of the pavement. The lingerie was frilly and cheeky and the fluffy handcuffs seemed rather fun. Gemma supposed that if she handcuffed Cal to the bed he couldn’t wander off to try out that new recipe for focaccia he’d just thought of. Much as she loved her baking, taking second place to a loaf was rather insulting.
    “Pulse is fun! It’s supposed to empower women,” said Angel, sensing that her friend was weakening. She tugged Gemma’s arm hopefully. “It can’t hurt to just have a little look, can it? They do all kinds of stuff in there. Even chocolate body paint. I bet Cal would love that.”
    Gemma laughed.