Читать книгу Her Secret, His Son - Barbara Hannay - Страница 12

AS TOM strode down the hill away from Mary’s apartment the undulating green parkland of Arlington National Cemetery stretched beyond the trees to his right. In the distance ahead of him he caught a glimpse of the slow, dignified curve of the Potomac River.

The sun was warm on his back and it was a relief to be walking. The way he felt right now he needed to walk all the way from Arlington right on to downtown Washington DC. Hell, finding Mary had him so wired with pent-up energy and angst he could walk clear across Virginia to Chesapeake Bay without stopping.

What a whacko world they lived in.

How could fate be so crazy that it led him to Mary Cameron again after eight long years, only to reveal that she was married to one of his best mates? And, damn it, she was a mother as well. Mother of his mate’s son.

And the hell of it was, she was still able to cause him heartache. Mary had an extra aura of womanliness about her now, a Madonna-like softness and a mysterious, sensuous depth to her beauty that pierced him like a bayonet.

Ramming his hands into his trouser pockets, he flexed his shoulders and tried to release some of the building tension. Mary—his Mary. It shocked him to realise that he still thought of her as his. Damn fool that he was.