Книги, похожие на «Charles Davis, Drifting South»

'I won't be working for the next week—unless you'd rather stay home with Sophie?'Sophie would adore having her daddy all to herself—and maybe nursing his daughter through her illness was the wake-up call Oliver needed. The thing that would make him start concentrating on his family. Though Rachel already knew what his reaction was going to be.'No, she needs her mum with her.'Sophie needed her dad, too. So did Robin. But Rachel wasn't feeling up to a row. 'If you think it's best,' she said coolly.Oliver raked a hand through his dark hair. 'Don't worry. I'll sort things out at the practice.'Hell. Why did he have to look so sexy when she didn't have time to do anything about it? Since they'd had the children they didn't spend Sunday mornings in bed any more. Rachel realised just how much she missed it—the warmth of her husband's body heating hers, tangled limbs, the roughness of the hairs on his chest against her skin.Then she remembered last night. The guiltgift—chocolates that she hadn't been able to face eating because she knew why he'd bought them and they would have stuck in her throat…

I’m on a train. I don’t know which stop I got on at; I only know the train is going fast and the world outside becomes a blur. I should get off, but I don’t.The universe is playing a cosmic joke on me. Here I had my life – a good life with everything a woman could want – and suddenly, there is something more I didn’t know I could have. A chance for me to be satisfied and content and maybe even on occasion deliriously, amazingly, exuberantly fulfilled.So this is where I am, on a train that’s out of control, and I am not just a passenger. I’m the one shovelling the furnace full of coal to keep it going fast and faster. If I could make myself believe it all happened by chance and I couldn’t help it, that I’ve been swept away, that it’s not my fault, that it’s fate… would that be easier? The truth is, I didn’t know I was looking for this until I found Will, but I must’ve been, all this time.And now it is not random, it is not fate, it is not being swept away.This is my choice.And I don’t know how to stop.Or even if I want to.