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A big variety of genres offers in worldlibraryebook.com. Today we will discuss romance as one of the types books, which are very popular and interesting first of all for girls. They like to dream about their romantic future rendezvous, about kisses under the stars and many flowers. Girls are gentle, soft and sweet. In their minds everything is perfect. The ocean, white sand, burning sun….He and she are enjoying each other.
Nowadays we are so lacking in love and romantic deeds. This electronic library will fill our needs with books by different authors.


What is Romance?


Reading books RomanceReading books romantic stories you will plunge into the world of feelings and love. Most of the time the story ends happily. Very interesting and informative to read books historical romance novels to feel the atmosphere of that time.
In this genre the characters can be both real historical figures and the author's imagination. Thanks to such historical romantic novels, you can see another era through the eyes of eyewitnesses.
Critics will say that romance is too predictable. That if you know how it ends, there’s no point in reading it. Sorry, but no. It’s okay to choose between genres to get what you need from your books. But in romance the happy ending is a feature.It’s so romantic to describe the scene when you have found your True Love like in “fairytale love story.”




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Read books online » Romance » Yesterday`s flower by Michelle Tarynne (good romance books to read .TXT) 📖

Book online «Yesterday`s flower by Michelle Tarynne (good romance books to read .TXT) 📖». Author Michelle Tarynne



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was glad. She’?d missed Le Domaine, and this would be her first time back in over a month.

 

As they pulled into the drive, she was struck once more by the beauty of the place. And Jared, normally garrulous, was surprisingly silent. He wound down the windows and sniffed loudly.

‘It’s so good to be home.’

 

They bumped into Prudence as they walked together towards the main house, her face alight with excitement.

 

‘Mr Jared!’ she cried, taking him in an effusive hug. ‘Mr Max,’ she called, ‘your brother’s back.’

 

‘Hello Prudence,’ Erika said, as the older woman studied her, then nodded at Erika in a not altogether unfriendly way. ‘Erika, we haven’t seen you for ages,’ she said.

And then the front door swung open and there was Max.

 

‘Big Brother Max,’ Jared said, slapping him on the shoulder. ‘Miss me?’ ‘Oh,’ Max said, ‘I cried myself to sleep every night.’

 

Max reached over and kissed Erika on the cheek, the touch of his lips as delicate as a bu erfly’s wing. She moved her face, and their noses bumped, making them both laugh.

‘Hello Erika,’ Max said. ‘You’re looking well.’

 

‘Of course she is,’ Jared said. ‘I’m back, aren’t I?’ He grinned and put his arms around the two of them as Prudence fussed with his bags. ‘After all those crowds, I need some space. Fancy a ride out to Elephant Rock?’

 

 

They took two quad bikes, with Erika riding behind Jared like she had the first day she arrived at Le Domaine. It felt a li le awkward, the three of them together, but Erika decided to give in to Jared’s infectious enthusiasm, just as Max seemed to have done. Still, she turned once or twice at they rode, to see if Max was alright.

 

When they reached the viewpoint, Jared pulled the vehicle to a sudden halt, lurching them both forward, then flung himself off and sprinted between the rows of grapes.

‘We’re going to have a spectacular season!’ he called. ‘I can feel it in my bones!’

Max parked just behind them, watching his brother’s antics with a tolerant expression.

‘Does he always do this?’ asked Erika.

‘Often enough. Listen, Erika –’

Erika lifted up her hands. ‘I care about you, Max. I really do. But I’m not a cheat ...

however tempted I may have been.’

 

Max’s face remained blank, then his eyes crinkled as he smiled. ‘Well, at least you were tempted. Anyway, I’ve said what I needed to say. I don’t want to hurt you. Or Jared. And I’ll keep my feelings close to my chest. You don’t have to worry – I won’t mess things up for

 

 

 

you.’

‘Thank you.’

 

‘And, Erika, another thing. The book proofs have come. I was going to phone you to see if you wanted to have a look.’

‘Of course I would! I wouldn’t miss that for anything.’

 

Jared popped his head around one of the poles. ‘What’s the delay? Are you coming for a walk or aren’t you?’

 

And so they set off, the three of them. They walked up and down, and under and through, with Jared and Max examining leaves and fruit, palming handfuls of dirt that they filtered through their fingers as if they were panning for gold. They discussed nitrogen content and wheat growth and soil moisture, comparing mental notes on past seasons and previous harvests.

 

‘The whites will be a bit later this year,’ Jared commented. ‘Mid-Feb, don’t you think?’ Max nodded. ‘I’ll speak to Fanie about ge ing the labourers he rounded up last year.

 

I’m not going with that machine again. Hand-picking’s the answer; we can’t risk losing any product. I think we’ll need at least thirty extra people on site.’

 

Jared bent down to snap off a bunch of tiny grapes, tossing it under the vine. ‘There are a lot of bunches that are going to have to come off,’ he said.

 

‘Why?’ Erika asked, and Jared looked up at her from where he had crouched as though he’d forgo en she was there.

 

‘Oh, we don’t want the plant expending energy on the grapes we can’t use. In the last month we only keep the best bunches.’

And Erika found herself wondering how one could tell which were the best.

 

 

They arrived back at the house grubbier and thirstier than when they’d left. But Prudence, clearly anticipating this, had placed a jug of her lemonade, some glasses, and an ice bucket outside on a tray, all covered with a net to keep the flies away.

Max poured three glasses.

 

‘At the harvest, can I help you pick?’ Erika voiced a sudden desire to get her hands dirty.

‘Sure,’ said Jared, ‘if you want to kill your knees. I, for one, am over that.’

‘Yes,’ Max agreed, ‘Jared’s much be er at prancing up and down the rows shouting.’

 

‘I do not prance. And I definitely do not shout,’ Jared said to Max, glaring. ‘Well, not unless it’s absolutely necessary … Though, now that I think about it, is most of the time.’ The revelation made Jared laugh. ‘See why we keep him, Erika? Max – our voice of reason.’

‘Oh, he’s more than that,’ Erika replied.

 

‘Good, good. So we’re all friends now?’ Jared unlaced his shoes and kicked them off under the table, then stripped off his shirt. ‘I need to shower and change.’ And within a minute he had disappeared inside, whistling cheerfully.

 

‘If you want to pick grapes,’ Max said, his eyes following Erika’s admiring glance, ‘then you really are welcome to. But you might prefer to sketch some of the action.’

‘Maybe I can do a bit of both.’

 

‘I don’t see why not,’ Max said. ‘Maybe I’ll join you. It’s been a few years since Jared or I did the really hard labour. We might even be able to convince Jared. Burn off some of

 

 

 

his excess energy.’

 

‘You’d be lucky there,’ said Erika. ‘That man has more energy than a nuclear power plant.’

 

‘Don’t worry. He exhausts everybody,’ Max replied. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody quite able to keep up with him.’

 

And Erika, who hadn’t told Max how Jared exhausted her, wondered what she’d said by saying nothing at all.

Chapter 19

As they neared harvest time, Erika woke each morning with an increasing sense of

 

anticipation. Jared’s excited texts usually beeped at five or six am, and she never had the heart to tell him she was still asleep. When it came to Le Domaine, Jared was like a li le boy in a toy shop, and in many ways Erika envied his ability to experience things as if for the first time. She wasn’t going to put him off – Jared happy made her happy.

 

Since his return, she and Jared had se led into the relationship in a way that made her interactions with Max so much easier. Anybody could see she and Jared were beso ed with each other. Inseparable. And though her friendship with Max could not be described as easy – it was too complicated for that – she knew they both took pleasure in each other’s company. The memory of their night at the pool began to fade, and Erika didn’t for a moment regret what hadn’t happened. Though she knew how Max felt, she wasn’t going to broach it any further. There wasn’t any point.

 

On the first day of the harvest, Erika woke up early and was out of bed in moments, pulling on a pair of shorts, a T-shirt and a hat. She lathered herself with sun cream, knowing how hot it would be outside. Over the last few days, temperatures had soared to the mid-thirties, and she wasn’t sure she’d last more than an hour in the vineyards. Yet if her life was going to be entangled with the winery, as she suspected it was, she wanted to experience the harvest first-hand.

 

At Le Domaine, Max and Jared stood outside one of the workshops, a crowd of labourers gathered around them. Erika recognised some of the faces from her walks and horse-rides through the vines, but most of the people were strangers. Dressed in blue overalls, some wearing scarves tied on their heads, and others wearing FIFA World Cup 2010 or African National Congress caps, the men and woman began to queue up. Simon was standing behind a table allocating each person some newly oiled picking shears and a red plastic stackable tray. Erika waved at the brothers, and joined the queue.

 

‘Morning,’ Jared said, his arms around her waist as he kissed her neck. ‘You don’t have to stand in line. I’m sure I can give you exactly what you need ...’

Max rolled his eyes. ‘God, Jared, isn’t it a bit early for that talk?’

 

Jared tucked his neck over Erika’s shoulder. ‘It’s never too early …’ he retorted. ‘But I was actually talking about the shears.’

‘Of course you were.’

 

‘Now, now, boys.’ Erika pulled away from Jared. ‘I’m happy to queue just like everybody else, just as long as I get a private demonstration of what on earth I’m supposed to be doing.’

 

‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ Max said, nodding towards Jared. ‘But if he doesn’t explain himself well enough, Erika, come and find me.’

‘Where are you going?’ Jared asked. ‘I thought you promised Erika you’d join us.’

 

‘I know your a ention span,’ Max said. ‘I’ll be back in an hour when Erika is dying for some scintillating and infinitely superior conversation.’

‘Bite me,’ said Jared.

 

‘Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather bite Erika,’ said Max with a shrug as he sauntered back up to the house.

 

 

 

 

 

Erika realised soon enough what Jared had meant about the knees, and she knew she’d be hurting the next day. She watched as Jared cupped a bunch of grapes in his hand, pulling the cluster away from the vine. With the other hand, he clipped at the stem using the shears.

 

‘So you pull gently,’ Jared said, ‘and make sure you keep some of the stem – it’ll make them easier to handle. When we put them in the machines, the stems will be separated from the berries. Do you want to give it a go?’

 

Erika held the shears she’d been given. They were a li le smaller than Jared’s but she could see immediately as she held them to the vine that they were sharp.

 

‘Careful, now,’ Jared said. ‘You don’t want to drop them or cut yourself. Now place the bunch on the harvest tray. When the tray’s full, you’ll tip the grapes into the trough, and then they’ll be fed into the machines.’

 

A li le way away, the trough was set under a large oak tree out of the sun. As Erika wished she was. God, it was hot.

‘Got it?’ Jared said, misreading her expression.

 

‘Well, it’s not exactly rocket science,’ she said. ‘I think I can probably work it out.’ ‘It’s not brains you need for this job, Erika – it’s stamina.’ ‘And shade,’ she grumbled.

 

Jared stood up and stretched. ‘Maybe you should wear one of my shirts,’ he suggested. ‘Your arms are going to get fried out here as it gets ho er. And I’ll get Prudie to pack us some drinks.’

 

Erika nodded, snipping her first bunch with the clippers. She eventually found a rhythm humming to herself; she aimed to fill a tray before Jared got back. And despite thinking that she might manage only an hour or so, Erika realised she found the picking rather therapeutic. It didn’t involve all that much thought-processing,

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