Christmas at Candlebark Farm by Michelle Douglas Read Free Book Online

thumping.
    Right—from now on her and Luke’s paths were on completely separate planes, trajectories whatever you wanted to call it. She’d make sure of it.

CHAPTER THREE
    L UKE halted in the doorway to the living room, brought up short by the sight of Keira rifling through the sideboard. He automatically opened his mouth to ask her what the hell she was doing, but closed it again.
    He had no intention of jumping to conclusions again, like he had last night.
    This woman—with all her colour and her big, bright smiles—had waltzed into his neatly structured world and he’d been off balance ever since. He ground his teeth together. He was going to find that balance again if it killed him.
    Last night he’d hurled words at her in an effort to stop the image of her, the very idea of what she’d represented, from tearing him apart. She’d stood there in his kitchen as if she’d had every right in the world, mocking him with her very… perfection !
    Once upon a time he’d dreamed of that kind of life. But it could never be his. Ever.
    Last night anger and grief had clawed up through him in an explosion of anguish. He’d lashed out at her before he could help himself. He wasn’t losing control like that again. He might not want her rifling through his personal things, but flying off the handle wouldn’t help him restore that much-needed equilibrium.
    With that in mind, he straightened, shoved his hands intothe pockets of his jeans, and drawled as casually as he could, ‘Can I help you?’
    She half turned. ‘I didn’t hear you come in. I thought you’d be out in the fields all day.’
    He’d come back to grab some lunch. Not that he needed to explain himself to her. ‘What are you looking for?’
    â€˜The telephone directory.’ She stood, hands on hips, and stared at him expectantly.
    She wore white linen trousers and a lime-green shirt. She reminded him of the rainbow lorikeets that dipped through the yard in the early morning to feed in the bottlebrush trees.
    â€˜Please tell me you have at least some kind of local business directory!’
    Her clothes looked summery and cool, but her cheeks were pink and her hair almost crackled. He pointed to the sideboard. ‘Middle drawer.’
    She spun back, located said directory, and promptly hugged it to her chest. Which made him notice exactly what a nice chest she had.
    He forced his gaze to the floor, but he needn’t have bothered. Keira hadn’t noticed. She raced passed him to settle herself at the kitchen table. She began rifling through the directory, completely oblivious to him.
    He watched her, eyes narrowed. Something was up. It was evident in the way she flicked over the pages, the way she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth.
    Walk away. The lady had made it clear at breakfast yesterday that she knew what she was doing.
    If he wanted lunch he couldn’t walk away. It didn’t mean he had to engage her in conversation, though.
    He filled the jug. He pulled a loaf of bread towards him. Not speaking suddenly seemed a bit childish. He slathered butter on his bread, located the cheese and started to slice it. ‘What are you looking for?’ He told himself it was a perfectly harmless question.
    â€˜A local builder. A reputable one.’
    She didn’t even glance up as she spoke. Luke abandoned the cheese. ‘Why?’ She was only here for a week. What on earth did she need with a builder?
    â€˜Because a disreputable one won’t be of any use at all.’
    When she met his gaze he could see that lines of strain fanned out from her eyes. And she’d gone pale. He planted his feet. ‘Have you eaten today? You can’t—’
    He broke off, mentally kicking himself.
    She sat back and folded her arms. She didn’t say anything. Not one word.
    Luke stood it for as long as he could. Then he caved. ‘Look, okay… Last night I