⬆Trent's Secret [A New Wattpad Product] On Hold

Chapter 4

As soon as she pushed open the screen door Nichola knew her side of  the cabin was empty.

After the slightest of hesitations she walked into the bedroom. The indentation on the bed the dirt on the white chenille bedspread, the sharp, medicinal odour of whisky all assailed her sense.

Dragging her eyes away from the bed, she saw how her sandal was stained where the whisky had spilled; suddenly she shivered , wondering if she was crazy to isolate herself over here in this remote cabin with a man who was an enigma.

An unreliable man that who drank. A man for whom physical she was no match at all.

She sat down heavily on the bed, and found herself remembering how his hair unlike the rest of him had been beautifully clean.

Right on cue, she heard the groan of water pipes and then the loud swish of the shower from next door.

The walls, she thought with a sinking of her heart, must be paper thin ; she would know his every movement.

And he hers.

Perhaps she had the answer to her question.

She was crazy to stay here for the sake of a view of the sea and the soft whisper of pine boughs against the roof.

Relentlessly she got to her feet. The bedroom window was at the the back of the sun  dappled tree limbs she could see the gleam of blue water and a distant line of hills, and when she pushed the window up the wind stirred the flowered curtains and brought with it the mingled scent of resin and the sharp, clean tang of the sea.

Her chin firmed and her mouth set in a resolute line Trent what ever is name was not going to cheat her out of all this.

A hollow, metal booming came from next door. He had banged his elbow against the shower cubicle, she thought, an across her mind flashed a image of him naked in the shower.

Furious with herself, she blanked it out as swiftly as it has it has appeared, biting her lip.

Her main motive in coming here was to write about an imaginary man and woman, about the kind of relationship she had always wanted and had never been able to keep, not to get involved with a real man.

And certainly no with someone like Trent. Vindictively she hoped he was taking a cold shower to sober himself up.

As if he had read her thoughts, he burst into song.
He was a great singer, singing in a language she decided was Spanish.

Quite sure that the words, if translated into English, would make her blush, Nichola came, Nichola came to an instant decision: if she was to live her own life this summer, in spite of her difficult neighbour, she start right now.