Life's a Beach and Then... (The Liberty Sands Trilogy Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

Don’t be ridiculous, it said, Gareth’s gone.
    Her heart was thumping in her chest as she turned and strode
purposefully back towards the hotel. The sun was already starting to heat up
and she hadn’t applied her sun protection yet. It wouldn’t do to get sun burnt
on her first day.

 
    Chapter 7
     
     
    Rosemary watched Robert cross the small expanse of grass to
place their towels on the sun loungers closest to their room. She loved to sit
on the beach and gaze out to sea or read a book but these days she did it from
the shade of a beach umbrella. Gone were the days when she would lie out in the
sun from ten in the morning until the sunset with no SPF to protect her skin
and a liberal application of coconut oil to help her ‘fry’. Thank goodness her
mother had instilled in her the need to use good quality skin care products
from a very early age which had minimised the damage caused by the sun. One of
the reasons that she loved coming to the Plantation House hotel was the range
of beauty products that the hotel spa carried. She really enjoyed the decadent
treat of facials and full body massages.
    This was her favoured end of the hotel complex away from the
swimming pools surrounded by families and the ‘body beautiful’ types. She had
nothing against either group but she had nothing in common with them either. In
the not-so-distant past women would envy and men would admire her slender body,
with her long lean legs, rounded bottom, flat stomach and small pert breasts.
She still felt confident of her appearance in cleverly designed clothes but
there was no hiding in swimwear.
    Robert, or Bobby as she called him, was making his way back
towards her, having reserved their place on the beach for when they had
finished breakfast. She had long since stopped nagging him about his posture.
His rounded shoulders and rounded belly were a consequence of the many hours he
spent at his drawing desk or more often these days at his computer. Just like
all other areas of modern life computers played an increasing role in the work
of an architect. They were a wonderful technical aid for producing the
stunningly quirky buildings he had been working on recently in Dubai but they
couldn’t give the human touch to turn a structure into a place where people
felt comfortable spending their time.
    ‘I don’t suppose you’d care to join me for breakfast would
you?’ he quipped, extending his arm for her to link hers through.
    ‘Why I don’t mind if I do,’ she replied in a southern
American drawl, mimicking the accent of her favourite movie character, Scarlett
O’Hara.

 
    Chapter 8
     
     
    Holly was anxious to get back to her room to start on the
work she should have done the previous evening. Fleur, the travel company
representative, was already ten minutes late, which was not creating a very
good impression on Holly or the other guests who were waiting to see her. They
were all gathered in the lounge area where Holly had checked in the previous
day, but noticeable by their absence were the British couple that had arrived
at the same time as Holly. She hadn’t seen them at breakfast either, but then
she had gone quite early.
    Breakfast had been a delicious combination of fresh fruit,
followed by griddled tomatoes and a poached egg on toast. Holly’s request for
HP sauce had been met swiftly and her coffee cup refilled several times without
her having to ask. The only cause of disappointment was the fruit juice which
was reconstituted rather than fresh – a big black mark in Holly’s opinion.
    Holly glanced at her watch. The rep was now fifteen minutes
late. Holly stood to leave just as a short dark-haired woman, clutching a
clipboard, rushed into the lounge.
    ‘I’m so sorry,’ apologised Fleur. ‘The traffic was terrible
this morning.’
    ‘Really?’ said Holly, genuine surprise in her voice, after
all this was Mauritius not the Marylebone Road.
    ‘Yes,’ said Fleur, oblivious to the sceptical looks all
around