Page 3 of Reunited By the Greek's Baby

Isla’s mouth twisted. Her track record with passions wasn’t good. She’d only ever given in to passion with one man. A man who’d used then cruelly rejected her. There was a life lesson in there, but she refused to dwell on that now.

The morning sped by as she served customers, checked deliveries and dealt with online orders. The Friday morning knitting group in the back room finished and Isla got busy tidying up for Rebecca’s afternoon patchwork class.

Neither she nor Rebecca had had time for morning tea and her stomach growled as she crawled under the large central table to pick up a stray ball of wool.

‘Isla?’

‘In here. I’m almost finished.’

She grabbed the grey eight ply and began to back out.

‘There’s someone to see you.’

That made Isla pause. None of her friends would drop in here during the day.

Plus something in Rebecca’s tone jarred. Not disapproval. Caution? Isla frowned. Her boss was a friendly soul, not just welcoming to customers but genuinely warm-hearted. She wouldn’t object to someone visiting her assistant.

Isla straightened and spun towards the door into the main shop.

Rebecca stood there wearing her velvet patchwork jacket, her grey plait over her shoulder. But instead of her usual smile, her expression was unreadable.

Isla moved closer. ‘What is it? Is something wrong?’

Then she saw movement behind her boss. A tall figure moved into view, the shopfront windows in the main room backlighting him. For a moment he seemed more shadow than real, until he stepped into the doorway behind Rebecca.

Isla blinked as the shadow transformed into someone she knew.

Someone you thought you knew.

Isla’s eyes widened, her hand clenching the wool like a lifeline.

She opened her mouth but whether to speak or drag in much-needed oxygen, she didn’t know. A wave of clammy heat engulfed her and the table tilted as if lifting off the floor. Then the world disappeared.

‘Isla. It’s time to wake up.’

Rebecca’s familiar voice filtered into the blankness, reassuring her. Something damp swiped her cheeks and forehead. The coolness felt good.

‘Rebecca. Sorry, I...’

She what? Isla frowned, scrambling to remember what had happened.

She opened her eyes and there was Rebecca, her worried eyes belying her smile. ‘There you are. You gave us a shock.’

Us?

Memory exploded and her skin prickled as if an army of ants swarmed there. Her eyes rounded and she turned her head. There was no one else in the room and the door was shut.

‘He’s in the shop, kicking his heels.’ Rebecca watched that sink in, Isla’s taut body easing back on the old couch near the wall. ‘Not that he wanted to. He seems a man used to getting his own way. I had to threaten him with the police to get you privacy.’

‘The police?’ Isla stared.

‘It wasn’t necessary. But after seeing your reaction I wanted to be sure you wanted to see him.’ Rebecca lifted a glass to Isla’s lips. ‘Here, you’ll feel better with some water. Dehydration won’t help. I should have insisted you stop for morning tea.’

Obediently Isla sipped. ‘Rubbish. It’s not your job to look after me. I’m a competent adult.’ Though she felt like she’d been stuffed full of cotton wool.

She shuffled straighter, swinging her feet to the floor. For a second she felt light-headed but the sensation eased and she let out a relieved breath. ‘I feel a lot better now.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said a deep voice from the doorway.

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