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

against the silky fabric of her camisole.  
    What had started as idle attraction on his part had turned uncomfortably intense.  
    If only he hadn’t stopped to help with her damned sign-board! He needed a partner with domestic talents and a deep maternal streak, not another ambitious, strong-minded, career-focused woman.  
    But hell, she was sweet.

    Sophie cast him a cautious glance.
    What am I doing? Breaking the most important rule I ever set for myself. I swore never to mix business with pleasure again.
      “What are we really here for?” she asked. “What had you planned?”
    Rafe suddenly looked the soul of innocence.“A walk around the house for a preliminary inspection...and to grab some screws for your sign-board.”
    “Not anything more, because...”   She broke off in confusion. Maybe she’d got things totally wrong? Perhaps she’d mistaken his motives?  
    “Not yet, anyway. Although I did think of asking you out to dinner and trying my luck.”
    “When?” she demanded, trying to ignore the leap in her heart.  
    “When you said I wouldn’t be getting anything, and then turned on that sexy blush and went all apologetic to me in your studio.”
    “I did not!”
    “You absolutely did. Said you ‘weren’t thinking of that’, and suddenly I was thinking of ‘that’ quite a lot.” A smile curled the edges of his mouth. “And when we got here you mentioned French wall-coverings and my hopeful brain made the leap to French knickers and French champagne...”
    Sophie gave an unladylike snort.
    “How about I buy you a dozen bottles of nice fizz for the studio launch,” he continued. “And we’ll go out for a meal afterwards. Somewhere on the waterfront?”
    He’s making it sound so easy, but I can’t. I can’t.
    “I need to be home around six-thirty for an important phone-call.” She wasn’t quite able to look him in the eye as she said that.
    He quirked an eyebrow. “Later then? I can wait.”
    Sophie felt he wouldn’t want to wait if he knew she was phoning her four-year-old daughter—the daughter she’d had to give into her mother’s care. He’d said twice that children should be with their parents.  
    She sighed and stood deep in thought for a few moments. Although it was agonizing, she needed to try and stop things right now. Make this a once-only moment of madness and somehow salvage a businesslike relationship from the tempting situation she found herself in.
    “Rafe,” she began.
    “Hmmm?”  
    She took a deep breath and huffed out a sigh, glad he seemed to be treating this as a game and not taking offence at her comments.
    “I seriously think,” she began again, “that’s not a good idea. This is a business arrangement.”
    “Feels pretty businesslike to me, too.” His smile was now wide and warm, and Sophie feared her resolve might melt all too soon under its powerful wattage.  
    “Stop it. Concentrate. This is a huge deal for me. Your house has been talked about in the design community for months. And that means architects and other decorators and suppliers will all be watching like hawks. I want to do a fantastic job for you. I will do a fantastic job for you. But the last thing I need is people saying I got the work because they think we’re sleeping together.”
    Rafe raised a skeptical eyebrow. “They can think what they like but they can’t prove anything.”
    “Well, we’re not.”
    “Of course we’re not.”  
    Is that a sneaky little grin he’s trying to suppress?
    “So being seen out at dinner is a terrible idea.”
    “It’s only dinner.”
    “Yes, but...”
    “No buts. We can keep it to ourselves while we get to know each other. No-one knows you’re here.”
    “Your builders know.”
    “They know you’re on the premises. Discussing the house. They wouldn’t know if you were in my bed.”
      “Well I won’t be,” she somehow managed. “And anyway—”
    “So that takes care of that worry.”
    “Yes, but lunch. ” She