THE DREAM CHILD by Emma Daniels Read Free Book Online Page B

in work mode, and stop smiling at me like that, she thought ruefully.
    “I know there have been negative words said down your end. I hope you’re the kind of person who won’t judge a book by its cover.”
    “From what I’ve heard it’s the cover that sells the book,” she replied.
    “Were you a philosopher in your last job, or something?” he teased.
    “No, a jewellery artist, actually.”
    His gaze fell to the netted necklace she was wearing, and to her surprise, he reached out to touch it, his fingers grazing against her skin as he took hold of the beads.
    “Did you make this?” he asked. His touch made her achingly aware of how wonderful his big strong hands had felt trailing across her skin in her dreams, and she longed to take hold of his fingers and slide them lower, but instead she pulled back, compelling him to let go of the necklace.
    “Yes, I’ve made lots of jewellery… I… ran a craft shop for quite a few years and held classes there for my customers.” She hated the tremor in her voice, and hoped he wouldn’t notice or comment on it.
    “Really! Why did you give it up?”
    She wasn’t particularly happy with that question either. “I needed more stable employment,” she answered shortly. No way was she sharing her most horrendous years with him.
    “But nowhere near as exciting by the sound of it. Where was your shop?”
    “Artarmon,” she answered simply.
    “That’s a good area. You must have done well there.”
    Sophie merely nodded.
    “My mother would love that piece. It’s very delicate and looks lovely on you.”
    Sophie didn’t know what to say to that, for it sounded very much like a compliment, so she remained silent.
    “Actually, I reckon she’d be interested in learning jewellery making. If I asked her, do you suppose you could give her a lesson or two?”
    “I don’t know,” she hedged. “It’s been a while since I’ve taught anyone.”
    “Do you want me to mention it to her? She might even have a couple of friends who’d be interested. You could run a jewellery party, or whatever it is they’re called, unless of course you don’t have the beads anymore.”
    “I have a whole room full of beads, but it’s not big enough to run a class in.”
    “Mum and Dad’s place is plenty big enough. She’d be happy to host it. Want me to run it by her?”
    “I don’t know,” Sophie murmured. Part of her wanted to jump at the opportunity, but another part didn’t want to go anywhere near him or his family.
    “She’d pay you of course.”
    “It’s not that. It’s just that it’s been a while…”
    “How long?”
    “Six years.”
    “That’s how long it’s been since I stood in front of a classroom of teenagers, and I still want to go back to it one day, even though I know it’ll probably mean going back to uni for refresher training.”
    “I didn’t know you were a teacher,” she said in surprise.
    “Not many people I work with do.”
    “What made you leave?”
    “A sudden and very unexpected case of stage fright. I haven’t been able to stand up in front of a group of people of more than a dozen ever since. Not a great affliction to suffer from when a History or English class comprises of at least thirty teenagers.”
    “You’re kidding! How the heck did that come about?”
    “I might tell you about it one day. Here come our orders.”
    As Sophie began to eat she wondered about his strange admission. Had he meant it to come out like that? It made him seem more humble, less of the arrogant know-it-all Louise had made him out to be.
    It also surprised her to find that some food lining her stomach did help quell the nausea.
    They didn’t say much more as they concentrated on their respective meals, and Victor wondered what she’d make of his admission. He hadn’t meant to throw that into the ring. He was normally so careful with his words, something one had to learn when dealing with teenagers, because they took everything so literally.
    He knew