Chapter 45

Andrew stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and moved to look out of one of the distant mountains, his back turned to her.

Diana could see the tension in his shoulders even through his clothes. The breadth of his shoulders had always secretly fascinated her. She had dreamed of him since he moved in next door to her apartment; he had seen him rowing and swimming in the summer on the lake in the university gym when he’d come home to visit. Tall and lean-hipped, with abdomen muscles ridged with strength and endurance, she had been fascinated by his athleticism, as it had been in such stark contrast to her young, busy, poor body. And when he’d brought his lover home for visits, Diana had watched them both. His lover had been a supermodel—stunning, slim, and glamorous. Never had she seen two people more perfect for each other or more devotedly in love. It had set a benchmark for her to aspire to. Perhaps an impossible benchmark, but a girl could dream, couldn’t she? “Andrew—”