One Summer in Santorini
‘An ideal holiday read that ticks all the boxes. I thoroughly enjoyed it!’ Julie Houston, best selling author of A Village Affair. There was something in the air that night... Sarah has had enough of men. It’s time to rekindle her first true love – travel – so she books a sailing trip around the Greek islands with a group of strangers. The very last thing Sarah wants is to meet someone new, but then a gorgeous American man boards her yacht… And when she also encounters a handsome silver fox who promises her the world, she realises that trouble really does come in twos. Will Sarah dive into a holiday fling or stick to her plan to steer clear of men, continue her love affair with feta and find her own way after all? The perfect holiday read to escape with this summer, for fans of Annie Robertson’s My Mamma Mia Summer and Mandy Baggot’s One Last Greek Summer. Readers love Sandy Barker: ‘A summery romantic debut from a fresh voice in romantic fiction. Made me want to pack my bags for the Greek islands this instant!’ Phillipa Ashley, bestselling author of A Perfect Cornish Summer ‘A fun and flirty escapist read. ’ Samantha Tonge, bestselling author of Knowing You ‘Warm, witty and wonderful. ’ Emma Robinson, author of Happily Never After ‘Sun, romance and sailing – what more could you want?’ Lucy Coleman, bestselling author of Summer on the Italian Lakes ‘A thoughtful and often humorous insight into the joys and pitfalls of travelling as a single, thirty-something woman. ’ Ella Hayes, Mills and Boon author ‘A cosmopolitan treat. ’ Belinda Missen, author of An Impossible Thing Called Love ‘An absolutely brilliant holiday read, full of love and laugh-out-loud moments. ’ Katie Ginger, author of Summer Season on the Seafront ‘A deliciously romantic, sunlit sail around the Greek islands – the perfect holiday read. ’ Lynne Shelby, author of The One That I Want ‘Sandy’s voice is young, smart and engaging. The story made me smile and long for summer days. ’ Kiley Dunbar, author of One Summer’s Night.
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One Summer in Santorini
SANDY BARKER
Published by AVON
A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Copyright © Sandy Barker 2019
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Cover illustration © Shutterstock
Sandy Barker asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008354343
Ebook Edition © June 2019 ISBN: 9780008354336
Version: 2019-05-28
For Ben, my very own someone
Table of Contents
I woke suddenly, and even though I was forty thousand feet in the air, I already felt jet-lagged. You know that unique mix of queasiness and exhaustion? That.
I hate long-haul flying. Wait, let me correct that, I hate long-haul flying in economy. Flying across the world when I’ve been upgraded to business class is awesome – I highly recommend it. But this wasn’t one of those times.
I checked my watch. I had slept for five hours – if we’re calling it ‘sleeping’ – more like ‘dozing upright’. Either way, I felt achy and groggy. I yawned a big, ugly yawn, the kind I usually reserved for solitary moments – one of the few benefits of sitting in a cabin full of people I’d never see again.
I stretched my neck from side to side and pushed my palms into my eye sockets. My eyes wanted to be anywhere else, and I didn’t blame them. I dug around in the seat pocket for my eye drops, tipped my head back, and irrigated my eyes with soothing coolness. Resting my head against the seat, I longed for a bed – any bed. I just wanted to lie flat so I could stretch out my stiff muscles. I certainly didn’t want to be cooped up with all those strangers, sitting in a ridiculously uncomfortable seat, breathing that stale, nasty air.
Yup, I’d definitely woken up on the wrong side of the plane.
Still, irritable was better than anxious. For weeks, I’d been fighting mini panic attacks about the trip, and that wasn’t like me. I’d travelled quite a lot and was more than capable of handling whatever catastrophe came my way. In fact, catastrophes had become such a regular part of my travels, I was starting to wonder what I’d done in a past life to piss off the travel gods.
One flight to Melbourne was cancelled outright. A flight out of Chile was delayed for so long I had to sleep on the airport floor. There was a hotel reservation in Florence that disappeared, and while I was arguing with the manager, my iPad was stolen from my bag. Not forgetting the time my whole suitcase somehow vanished between Sydney and Auckland. On the next trip, my new suitcase emerged a mangled mess on the baggage carousel – hello LA and, yes, fellow passengers, those are my knickers, thank you very much. And I barely recovered from a raging case of malaria in Peru. Okay, so it wasn’t actually malaria. It was salmonella, but it still knocked me on my bum for five days when I was supposed to be hiking the Inca Trail.
I looked out the window at the passing clouds. Maybe all the panic was because I hadn’t travelled in more than a year; I’d lost my mojo. Still, I should have been excited. After one night in London, I was flying to Santorini. Yes, the Santorini – of Greek Island fame.
Even though it was only for a night, I was really looking forward to London, as I was seeing my little sis and I’d missed her like crazy. Catherine – Cat – had moved to England years before. Actually, we’d moved there together, but she stayed and I moved back to Australia. We only saw each other in the flesh every couple of years when she came to Sydney or I went to London. I knew she’d ease my worries – real or imagined – with a firm dose of tough love. It was one of the many, many reasons she was my best friend.
The rest of the flight was pretty uneventful. I had a breakfast of rubbery eggs and something that resembled a sausage, washed my face with a moist towelette, and watched three episodes of
