Читать книгу A Place to Heal - CA J.D. Bodiford - Страница 7

Emma checked her master list one more time. She was a compulsive list maker and this job had pushed her to a new level. Finally reassured that all the marble tiles were accounted for, she decided to call it a night. She had been here before seven am every day and stayed until well after the contractor and workers were gone. This was her baby and she intended to see that every detail was perfect. She had taken advantage of it being a weekend and had dressed in frayed, well-worn jean shorts and a short t-shirt to make the summer heat more bearable. Unaware of the masculine eyes that roved over her well-curved figure, she was startled when she rounded the corner of the kitchen and almost ran into the tall man standing there. She didn’t recognize him as one of the construction workers and he was too casually dressed to work for Jessica.

“May I help you with something?” she asked, her voice sharp.

Sensing her unease, he stepped back and held up his hands to show her that he carried nothing.

“Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw the lights on down here and thought I should check on things.” His deep voice sent shivers down Emma’s spine. Trying to ignore the feeling, she stiffened her back and frowned.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before,” she said.

He smiled, revealing even, white teeth. “No, you haven’t. I’ve been out of the country for several months.” He held out his hand. “I’m Blake Rochester.”

Emma continued to stand stiffly, refusing to take the offered hand.

He shrugged and dropped his hand. “Suit yourself. But if you don’t tell me your name, I’ll just have to make one up.” He tilted his head bringing his hand to his chin, studying her.

“What shall I call you?” he asked out loud. “Sharon? Stella? Teresa?” he narrowed his eyes. “How about Ethel?”

Emma stared at the man, unsmiling, refusing to break eye contact. “I’ll ask you again-may I help you with something? Because if not, you need to leave. I’m about to lock up for the day.” Her tone was stern.

He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway, obviously not intending to do as she said. Emma’s eyes were drawn to the size of his biceps, straining the cloth of the sleeves. Her stomach lurched as she realized the precariousness of her position. The guesthouse was quite a distance from the main house and she was very isolated here alone. She felt sure she could defend herself if he decided to try anything but the question was how long she could hold out against his obvious greater strength? Her mace was in her purse and her purse was in the car, as usual. Her cell phone was at her waist but could she use it in time?

Blake stared at the woman in front of him. Her beautiful eyes were wide with fear yet she stood her ground against him. Interesting. It almost made him want to call her bluff to see just what she would do but suddenly realizing he had no stomach for scaring her, he straightened and stepped back.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He turned and walked toward the door without saying anything else. Emma watched, disbelieving as he left. The sound of a powerful motorcycle roaring to life followed some minutes later and Emma got to the door just in time to see the headlight as it followed the curved driveway to the gates. Her hands were shaking as she locked the door and walked to her car. Tonight had surely been her lucky night. Instead of going home, she could have been raped or worse. She didn’t know what had changed his mind but whatever it was, she was grateful.

Emma looked over the plans for the bathroom remodel, chewing on her bottom lip as she concentrated. She didn’t like the positioning of the window that was being added.

“Maybe if we moved it over and up just a bit it would bring more sunlight into the shower,” she mused aloud. She nearly jumped out of her skin as a deep voice added to her thought.

“Why not just widen it, instead?”

She whirled, shocked to see the man from the other night, standing almost beside her. Once again, she hadn’t heard a thing. The man must move like a damn cat!

He grinned at the look on her face. “Didn’t think you’d see me again, huh?”

Emma stared, disconcerted that he had managed to sneak up on her again but not frightened as she had been before. See him again? She almost laughed aloud at the question! She had seen him plenty in the days since they had first met - in her dreams! All she had to do was close her eyes and she could visualize every inch of his body. The sun-streaked brown hair cut close to his head. His beautiful blue eyes the color of the deepest water accentuated by dark arched brows; his strong face and square chin. His shoulders were broad, almost spanning the width of the doorway and his arms were thick and powerful. The watch spanning his wrist accentuated his masculinity in a way Emma couldn’t explain. Something about a man wearing a man’s watch had always appealed to her. None of those skinny, high priced pieces for her. His waist was narrow with trim hips leading to well-muscled thighs. Hell, even his feet were all man in the leather sandals he wore! And he had the most gorgeous ass Emma had ever seen and she was something of a connoisseur when it came to that part of the male anatomy. Yep. She had seen him plenty of times in the last three days. But this time he didn’t scare her. They were surrounded by construction workers so she was safe. He leaned over the table, looking at the drawings as if he had been there all along.

“So what do you think, Ethel? Wouldn’t just widening the window be the easiest for everybody?” he asked.

“Emma,” she said.

He looked up at her, not speaking, mesmerized by the unusual coloring of her eyes.

When he didn’t answer her Emma didn’t think he heard her so she said it again. “Emma.”

“Excuse me?” he finally said, after blinking several times.

Emma cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “My name is Emma,” she repeated. “Emma Sloan.”

He smiled broadly, revealing dimples she had not seen the last time.

“Very nice to meet you Emma Sloan,” he said warmly. “Now will you tell me what you are doing here?”

“I’m a designer. Jessica hired me to remodel the guest house,” she explained.

He turned and lifted himself easily onto the edge of the heavy table. She watched him as he looked around the room. They were in the middle of the kitchen, which was currently more like a disaster area.

“Can’t say as I see much that impresses me so far,” he said.

Emma bristled at his casual remark.

“It never looks like much in the beginning,” she said defensively.

He held his hands up. “No offense intended, Emma. I promise!” he said quickly. “I’m sure it will be beautiful when it’s finished.”

“There’s a lot of work to be done. At least another month’s worth.” she said, not sure why she felt the need to explain herself to this stranger. “Just who are you anyway, and what business is it of yours what’s going on here?”

“I live here,” he said. “In the main house, that is. When I’m in the country, anyway.”

Emma looked at him suspiciously. “I don’t remember Jessica saying anything about you.”

“Did you two discuss everyone who lives here on the estate?” he asked.

“Well, no, we didn’t,” Emma admitted.

“Well there you go,” he said. “There was no reason for my name to come up. She does exactly as she pleases without any need for my input.” He slid from the table and walked over to the tiles waiting to be placed behind the new stove. He stood quietly for several minutes, arranging the mosaic.

“What time are you done for the day?” he asked abruptly, looking back at her.

Emma frowned. “Why do you ask?”

He walked back to where she was standing and reached out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. She drew back, wary of his touch.

He smiled crookedly. No less than what he had expected. “Because I’d like to take you to dinner,” he said. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Emma arched one eyebrow as she looked at him suspiciously. “Mr. Rochester, this is only the second time I’ve laid eyes on you and frankly you scared the hell out of me the first time. Why would I want to go to dinner with you?”

“Blake, please,” he said. “And you should go to dinner with me so I can have a chance to redeem myself and prove that I’m not a serial killer or something.” He waited patiently for her decision. Seeing her obvious reluctance he tried a different approach. “How about we meet somewhere, then? That way you’ll have your own vehicle and you can leave whenever you get ready.”

Emma stared at him, unsure of her answer. Clearly, she would be playing with fire but she couldn’t resist the opportunity to get to know this man. Could this be the chance she had been waiting for? Her skills with the opposite sex were woefully nonexistent, so her judgment wasn’t exactly the best in the world, she knew that. But no other man had held her thoughts and her dreams so firmly after just one meeting. She wavered. Surely one meal wouldn’t hurt. She should be safe enough if she drove herself.

“Alright,” she finally agreed. She smiled at the look of delight on his face at her answer.

“How about you call me when you get ready to leave?” he suggested. “Give me your cell phone and I’ll put the number in for you.”

She watched as he quickly entered the information.

“There you go,” he said. “And I won’t ask for yours until you’re ready to give it to me.”

Emma laughed. “Like you won’t have it when I call you tonight.”

He took her hand and kissed it, lingering over the contact to press his lips to the sensitive spot at the base of her wrist a second time before letting her go. “So block your number.”

Her hand tingled where his lips had touched it. “Maybe I’ll just do that,” she said, her voice husky.