The Secret Virgin. Carole Mortimer
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‘We had better be getting back.’ She touched her cousin’s arm in apology. ‘And we’ll take a raincheck on next week,’ she added as she pulled her helmet back on. ‘Neither of us is sure of our plans at the moment.’
‘Fine,’ Terry said. ‘But give me a ring before you go back to London. Nice to meet you, Jonathan,’ he finished, before limping back to the group of friends he had been talking with when they had arrived.
Tory looked at the still ashen-faced Jonathan. ‘Do you feel up to riding back to the farm on the bike? I promise I’ll go slowly.’
He briefly shut his eyes and then opened them again as he pulled his own helmet back on. ‘This has got to be the maddest thing I’ve ever done in my life,’ he said.
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