Bargain in Bronze by Natalie Anderson Read Free Book Online Page A

anyway.” She eased the pack off her back and rolled her shoulders.
    “It would fit in my other car.”
    “Well, I’ve got it here now,” she clipped, carefully looking around the kitchen.
    “You’ll be getting more ingredients soon though, right?”
    She nodded.
    “Then either have it delivered or I’ll collect it.”
    She finally met his eyes—firing him a look that spoke volumes. He met it with an equally unwavering one. He wouldn’t apologize for being sensible. Would it hurt her to accept some very minor assistance?
    “Okay.” She turned and looked around the kitchen again. “Is there no one else here?”
    “Who else would be here?”
    “The bakery owner? Shouldn’t I meet…” she trailed off.
    “No need for that,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I own the place.”
    “The bakery?”
    “The building.”
    “You own the whole building?” She looked horrified.
    He decided not to tell her he owned the two on either side of this one as well. “Don’t worry, I have a really good maintenance team.”
    Her color ripened. “You’re going to be here every night to open up for me?”
    “And lock up.”
    “Am I not to be trusted with a key?”
    “Not at this stage.”
    “Even though you’ve done all your snooping and know everything about me?”
    “It was a quick Google search,” he answered easily. And he didn’t know nearly enough. “You didn’t do one on me?”
    “No.” She said it like she’d never think of it.
    “Really?”
    “Does that bruise your ego?” Her eyes kindled—enhancing that smooth skin and fresh-eyed look—the picture of vitality. Maybe there was something in the muesli after all.
    He sensed her holding back a laugh and only just suppressed his own. “I’ll live.”
    Her smile burst forth and she unzipped her suitcase. It was immaculately packed—plastic bags neatly arranged like a jig-saw puzzle to maximize use of every inch of space. It took five minutes for her to take out what she needed.
    Only then did she glance at him again—her smile dying. “Are you staying?”
    “Of course.” He went back to his spot at the bench where he had his iPad and phone out.
    “I’m not going to set fire to the place if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    That wasn’t why he was staying. “Is that what they implied?”
    She nodded.
    “It must have been horrible being under suspicion.”
    “Not as bad as being there.”
    “You were there when the fire started?” Goose bumps rippled over his skin.
    “I got out, obviously, but I lost lots of things. And there was a lot of toasted muesli,” she quipped.
    “It’s not funny.” No wonder she’d frozen in the face of the burned nuts the other day. And flipped about the alarm. “Were you hurt at all?”
    “No. But I lost my computer.” She looked rueful. “How to learn the ‘always back your stuff up’ lesson the hard way.”
    “You lost important data?”
    “Photos.”
    “No,” he groaned in sympathy. “Can you get copies?”
    “For some. Not all.”
    He heard the desolate note—she’d lost precious things, memories? Sorry for bringing it up, he sought a way to lighten it. “Have you got a replacement computer yet?”
    “Soon.”
    “So that’s why you didn’t Google me,” he joked to bring her smile back.
    “Yeah,” she went along with it. “And you weren’t worth breaking the ‘no personal Internet use’ rule at work for. So no cyber stalking for me.” She scrubbed her hands and got out several chopping boards and that stupidly small knife. The dried apricot dicing began.
    “Why cut by hand?” He pointed out the industrial food processor.
    “It’s better chopped by hand. One too many presses of the pulse button of that machine would make it pulp rather than bite-size pieces.”
    “But it takes so much time.”
    “I have time.”
    Really? When she worked full time and ran her business on the side? “Then how do you fit in time for—” He broke off, temporarily blinded by