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When I am on stage I seldom rise before mid-day. I will see you in the morning. Good-night.’ Miles shocked her by not attempting to kiss her good-night. Miles had just sat down to his breakfast when an apparition in pale pink silk glided into the room. He rose to his feet and ushered her to a chair. ‘What would you like for breakfast?’ ‘Coffee, black, and is that wholemeal toast I see?’ ‘Yes. What would you like with it, we have butter, salted or unsalted, take your pick.’ He pointed to the appropriate dishes with pats of butter in them. ‘You have a choice, you can have scrambled eggs, although if you’re on a diet I’d steer clear of them, Rosita makes them with cream. If you don’t fancy that, there is a selection of jams and marmalades to choose from.’ He poured her coffee and handed it over to her. She took a sip. ‘This is nice.’ ‘I have the beans flown in from Columbia.’ ‘My, you do spoil yourself, don’t you?’ She took a slice of toast and spread it with butter and an English. It feels like magic.” “It does, doesn’t it? I suppose I wanted it to. I wanted you to see how much this place meant to me. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me. I want to come back here with you until we’re too old to light a fire.” Again, hearing him speak, Jennifer was aware of a tightness in her chest, the excitement expanding, making it hard to speak. She smiled, kissed her finger and placed it to his lips. Matthew felt the softness of her fingers, warm now, against his lips. He had known that this holiday would have some of the magic Jennifer described. Never had he realised how much. He in turn kissed a finger and held it to her lips. He gazed at her. She was more beautiful than ever in the flickering firelight. The cold had brought a glow to her cheeks that he had never seen before, more attractive than the make-up he tried so hard to stop her using. Her shoulder length blonde hair, rolling onto the high collar on her white cashmere top seemed to frame her face. Her.
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