A Country Scandal – Sasha Morgan
About the author
Sasha lives in a rural, coastal village in Lancashire with her husband and Labrador dog. She has always written stories from a very young age and finds her fictional world so much more exciting than the real one.
About the book
For Christie Newbury, moving to the Cotswolds as the new owner of The Templar, a quaint countryside inn, was supposed to be a dream come true. But then her husband drops a bombshell that turns her life upside down.
Architect Daniel James has just one month to find the perfect home. When his search takes him to the village of Treweham, his instant attraction to the Templar's beautiful – and newly single – owner is a distraction he can't afford.
Christie needs an expert's eye. Daniel needs a place to stay. It's only a business deal – but it has never been more tempting to mix business with pleasure...
Welcome back to Treweham, a village of scandal and secrets.
Perfect for fans of Holly Martin and Debbie Johnson.
The moment Christie’s eyes met Stephen Newbury’s, the attraction was instant. Across a hectic, rowdy pub packed to the rafters with rugby players and hen parties, they homed in on each other like radars. When their gazes locked, time stood still. Stephen’s pint glass hovered mid-drink, whilst Christie halted, her conversation abruptly stopped. An urge between the two pulled like a magnetic force, bringing them together in the thick of the crowds.
‘I’m Stephen,’ this huge chap with broad shoulders and an infectious smile said. He held out his hand. Christie shook it and noticed the firm, confident shake.
‘I’m Christie.’ She grinned back. They could hardly hear for the noise amongst the drinkers.
‘Christie, let’s go someplace else.’ It was more of a direction than a request. He seemed desperate to get to know the girl with dark, corkscrew curls and pale blue eyes he hadn’t seen before. Christie was only too happy to follow him, admiring the way his tight black T-shirt emphasised his muscular arms and his legs bulged out of faded jeans. He had blond hair cut in a short, snappy style. She suspected he was one of the rugby players, judging by his physique, so he must be a local. Whereas she was partying with her girlfriends on a hen do. Chester seemed the ideal place to celebrate, given its culture and nightlife. The fact it was brimming with hunky rugby players was a big plus too. The girls had giggled about that whilst making arrangements.
Stephen chose a small bistro tucked away down a tiny alleyway named Benedict’s after the owner. It was cosy, intimate and proved the ideal spot for Christie and Stephen to fall in love. Which is precisely what they did. They talked about just everything, from their childhood and teenage years, where they came from, families, friends, careers, to lifetime ambitions. Christie’s had always been the same: to own her own hotel. Being in the accommodation business, she had grown from being a chambermaid to the assistant manager of a very prestigious country inn in the heart of the Lake District. It was hard work, but it paid off when seeing visitor after visitor return with smiles and compliments, not to mention generous tips.
One day, thought Christie, one day I’ll own my own place. Often she would dream of exactly how it would be: rustic charm meets country sophistication that the more discerning traveller would flock to. That had been her ultimate wish, and it had almost come true, almost. Stephen had soon latched on to Christie’s aspiration and he too could see the fascination of owning his own fabulous hotel and rather liked the idea of being his own boss, instead of working for the tyrant at the estate agents. He too was assistant manager, not that it stood for much under Burns’ regime. Bill Burns was a ruthless, sexist pig who made the small team of Abbott and Reedley’s miserable. From touching up the young girls in the tea room, to refusing annual leave whilst he took himself off golfing made him the most unpopular manager ever. Stephen couldn’t wait to leave, but he appreciated, as did Christie, timing was crucial.
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