The Boat Builder's Bed by Kris Pearson Read Free Book Online

it.
    “Black was probably a silly choice,” she agreed, making a token effort to pull away. Much more token than effort.
    His grip was gentle, but he seemed determined she wouldn’t slip free. She knew she should whirl aside and put on a show of outrage. Presumed he’d release her if she did because he wasn’t grabbing her like some lustful roughneck, even if he was built like one. This was Faye’s civilized husband—or separated husband, she corrected herself frantically.  
    Almost available. Definitely gorgeous.  
    Still way forbidden.
    She summoned all her determination and found most of it missing. His hands burned hot around her waist, thumbs rubbing lightly against her ribs.
    “Look, I don’t want to go complicating a business situation.” She heard the faltering desperation in her voice.
    “This has nothing to do with business.”
    “But the work would be very valuable to me.”
    “Then the work’s yours.”
    “ What? ” she gasped, still staring out at the ocean. Still standing trembling between his big hands. “How much of it?”
    “All of it. Easy decision.”
    Hot joy rushed through her. Closely followed by chilling disbelief.  
    “All of it? The whole huge job?”
    “Yup, the whole huge job.”
    She tried to absorb the fact she’d just been awarded the city’s most prestigious décor contract.  
    Her new studio was now assured of success.
    She could reclaim Camille in plenty of time to start her first crucial year of school in Wellington.
    And finally life would be normal and enjoyable after all the years of hard struggle.
    Just like that? It was too much to take in. She wanted to yell and scream and leap about with joy. Instead she stood frozen and blitzed by the enormity of it all.
    She felt Rafe’s warm breath on the side of her face and suddenly a most unwelcome thought hit home. Did getting the job depend on her willingness to fall into bed with him? He’d definitely been flirting, and still stood far too close.
    She feared she’d make no sense if she attempted to ask. Overcome with shock she tried to step away, but his grip held firm.
    “I wasn’t joking about the dust,” he said, loosening one hand to swat gently at her butt. Sophie knew it was close to a gentle sexy spanking, and as her commonsense slowly swam back to somewhere near normal, she made a more serious effort to free herself. He felt too good, too dangerous, too much like everything she’d been missing.

    Rafe registered Sophie trying to lever herself away. God, she had more will-power than he did! He was uncertain quite how he’d got his hands on her again, but he knew he wanted more than a quick fumble in the echoing shell of his half-finished house.  
    Paddling her pert curvy butt was some consolation, but not enough...not enough. He needed to take his time somewhere private and warm, wanted to explore and delight her and lose himself in her rose-scented softness.
    He hoped she was only trying to fight him off because of the damn work. Okay, he needed to tread carefully, but he’d taken a direct hit when he least expected it and no way would he give her up now.
    His hands slid up to cup her face, and he tilted it so their eyes meshed.  
    “Stop panicking. And don’t start thinking the work’s tied to anything personal. It’s yours regardless.”
    He felt her relax a little and then saw her earrings dangling against his hands. He’d noticed them earlier—small cubes of blue stone edged with silver. He pushed a cautious forefinger behind one of her ears. The silver wire hook slid through the piercing and an earring slipped forward into his waiting hand as she pulled away from him.  
    He smiled to himself as he dropped the jewel into his trouser pocket.  
    A reason to see her again.  
    The door on the lower floor slammed at last. Once the builders had thudded back up to the middle level he walked her to the stairs and snapped the radio on again. Chris had it tuned to an old classic hits station.