Out of Bounds by Kris Pearson Read Free Book Online Page A

knitting—as
tangled as Gran’s sometimes used to get when old Pusscat found the
wool bag and had a field day.
    This was hopeless. She smiled, despite her
best efforts not to.
    Anton didn’t deserve smiles. He’d frightened
her half to death by bursting right in to her home that morning and
saying he was going to demolish it. He hadn’t even knocked.
    Then he’d pretended she should know all about
it.
    She’d been shocked out of her mind—terrified
to be caught on her own. Even clutching the old spade hadn’t really
made her feel safe.
    And yet...? She’d somehow found the courage
to come back here with him—and into his bedroom, no less.
    Because that’s where the plans were, of
course.
    Yes, she’d panicked a little, but not too
badly. Then visions of Anton had taken over from thoughts of Uncle
Graham as they stood together at the drawing board, even if it was
only for a few dreamy seconds.
    Maybe it was okay now because there was the
table between them, and she knew he couldn’t reach across and grab
her. Even so, it amazed her. He’d declared he’d be moving in to
Gran’s house, although she was determined he wouldn’t be, and she
still found him good company.
    She took another sip of her wine and
inspected him covertly. In the softening light of near dusk his
skin looked a deeper gold.
    His face was long, like his body. Dark hair
sprang back from his smooth forehead, short around his ears and at
his neckline. But it stood up a couple of inches on top of his
head, thick and a little unruly, as though he often thrust his
fingers back through it.
    How would it feel, running my hands through
it?
    Her fingertips itched with anticipation, and
she lowered her gaze a little.
    Above his vivid blue eyes, his brows were
strong and almost straight. As thick and dark as the hair on his
head.
    He was freshly shaved. She liked that he’d
done that for her. Or had he? Maybe he always shaved when he
showered? But somehow she knew he’d made an extra effort because of
her birthday.
    His shirt had a couple of buttons undone at
the neck. A proper business shirt, not just a casual polo or tee.
The spicy brown complimented his sun-gilded skin. He’d flipped the
sleeves back a couple of turns, and the tendons moved in his
forearm as he stabbed a morsel of smoked salmon.
    She flicked her eyes back up to his face.
High cheekbones under those amazing eyes, and slightly hollowed
cheeks. The words ‘lean and hungry’ sprang easily to mind.
    He had a long, straight nose—no tell-tale
bumps to indicate mishaps on the rugby field. She pictured him
loping along on a cricket pitch, or arrowing down off a high diving
board, sleek and controlled.
    But his mouth was the treat she saved for
last. Exactly as wide as his nose was long, she thought,
unconsciously measuring and memorizing. Was the symmetry why he
looked so good?
    His top lip bowed sharply, but once again it
was the sensuously full lower one that made her catch her breath.
That sulky cushion of smooth flesh appeared to be the only soft
thing about him, and all the more attractive for the contrast.
    It was nothing like Uncle Graham’s thin mean
mouth that he used to press against hers in a slimy slobber when
her parents were out of the house.
    She shivered and wrapped her arms across her
breasts in an unconscious barrier.
    “What’s wrong?” Anton’s tone cut sharply
through her memories.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Your expression changed. You looked as
though you’d seen something repulsive. And it was me you were
looking straight at.”
    “No,” she protested. “Just an old memory.
Someone long gone.”
    But he keeps coming back. Will I ever get rid
of him?
    “Sorry,” she added, trying to make
amends.
    “Another man?”
    “That would be a flattering description of
him,” she murmured. “I’d go as far as ‘male animal’ perhaps.”
    “So why are you sitting here with me and
thinking about someone else?” he pressed.
    She could hardly say ‘because