PROLOGUE
مقدمه
When he emerges from the bathroom she is
awake, propped up against the pillows and flick-
ing through the travel brochures that were beside
his bed. She is wearing one of his T-shirts, and
her long hair is tousled in a way that prompts re-
flexive thoughts of the previous night. He stands
there, enjoying the brief flashback, rubbing the
water from his hair with a towel.
She looks up from a brochure and pouts. She is
probably slightly too old to pout, but they’ve been going out a short enough time for it still to be
cute.
‘Do we really have to do something that in-
volves trekking up mountains, or hanging over
ravines? It’s our first proper holiday together,
and there is literally not one single trip in these
that doesn’t involve either throwing yourself off
something or –’ she pretends to shudder ‘– wear-
ing fleece.’
She throws them down on the bed, stretches
her caramel-coloured arms above her head. Her
voice is husky, testament to their missed hours
of sleep. ‘How about a luxury spa in Bali? We
could lie around on the sand … spend hours be-
ing pampered … long relaxing nights … ’
‘I can’t do those sorts of holidays. I need to be
doing something.’
‘Like throwing yourself out of aeroplanes.’
‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.’
She pulls a face. ‘If it’s all the same to you, I
think I’ll stick with knocking it.’
His shirt is faintly damp against his skin. He
runs a comb through his hair and switches on his
mobile phone, wincing at the list of messages
that immediately pushes its way through on to
the little screen.
‘Right,’ he says. ‘Got to go. Help yourself to
breakfast.’ He leans over the bed to kiss her. She
smells warm and perfumed and deeply sexy. He
inhales the scent from the back of her hair, and
briefly loses his train of thought as she wraps her
arms around his neck, pulling him down towards
the bed.
‘Are we still going away this weekend?’
He extricates himself reluctantly. ‘Depends
what happens on this deal. It’s all a bit up in the
air at the moment. There’s still a possibility I
might have to be in New York. Nice dinner
somewhere Thursday, either way? Your choice
of restaurant.’ His motorbike leathers are on the
back of the door, and he reaches for them.
She narrows her eyes. ‘Dinner. With or
without Mr BlackBerry?’
‘What?’
‘Mr BlackBerry makes me feel like Miss
Gooseberry.’ The pout again. ‘I feel like there’s
always a third person vying for your attention.’
‘I’ll turn it on to silent.’
‘Will Traynor!’ she scolds. ‘You must have
some time when you can switch off.’
‘I turned it off last night, didn’t I?’
‘Only under extreme duress.’
He grins. ‘Is that what we’re calling it now?’
He pulls on his leathers. And Lissa’s hold on his
imagination is finally broken. He throws his mo-
torbike jacket over his arm, and blows her a kiss
as he leaves.
There are twenty-two messages on his Black-
Berry, the first of which came in from New York
at 3.42am. Some legal problem. He takes the lift
down to the underground car park, trying to up-
date himself with the night’s events.
پ.ن: 
این رمان خیلی قشنگیه دو جلد هستش من پیش از تو و من پس از تو ، هر روز چند صفحه اش رو میزارم البته اگه دوست داشته باشید و همراهی کنید 
