Trusting a Stranger by Kimberley Brown Read Free Book Online

rushes of blood to her face? He seemed to be forever catching her out at thoughts and actions she felt slightly embarrassed about having.
    â€˜Your place is very different from mine,’ she said, disliking the stiffness she heard in her own voice.
    â€˜Don’t worry,’ he said, answering her awkwardness rather than what she had actually said. ‘I told you to make yourself at home.’
    She liked that perceptiveness in him. It was a quality she was not used to associating with men.
    â€˜It’s not like my home at all,’ she said. ‘Are you just slicing those onions? Can I help you with that?’
    They had agreed that as they were going to be here for a while, until they got some report back about where Tomasi was, they might as well enjoy their meal. Ethan’s kitchen was well supplied with tomatoes and other vegetables, and there were a variety of cuts of meat in a large fridge to one side, as well as dried herbs hanging along one wall and a wide box of fresh basil growing before a barred window, in the sunshine. Ethan had begun preparing a dish of the pork and beans that he said were local specialities.
    He made room for her at the bench and slid along the cutting board. The back of his hand brushed against hers and she swallowed. There was a real pulse of electricity in the contact. He was still now, as immovable as any other object in the room and she knew that this meant he had noticed the sizzle too.
    â€˜Are those onions cooking already?’ he asked. ‘There’s a bit of heat there.’
    Hayley knew what he was doing, too. He was trying to turn down the power of their attraction by mocking it. She appreciated that. She might have promised to stay here for a couple of days but she sensed that Ethan was no more interested in romantic complications right now than she was. So she forced out a laugh.
    â€˜We want them fried, not steamy,’ she said. ‘I’m not the best cook in the world but I know that.’
    Not the best cook in the world? Why had she felt the need to tell him that? The truth was that Hayley wasn’t particularly good at anything practical, apart from photography. Sometimes she felt like she could barely look after herself. Running her own business meant that she never needed to be responsible for looking after anyone else.
    Ethan stepped away, reaching for a tray of tomatoes. There was a big pot of water already boiling on the stove beside them and, one by one, he stabbed the tomatoes with a fork and dipped them into the water. Then he pulled them out and, after a moment or two, pulled the skin off in long, loose strips.
    Hayley watched him closely. He had long, agile fingers and knew how to handle a tomato.
    She would have to remember this trick.
    â€˜So, you live in Melbourne?’ he asked.
    Hayley nodded. She wasn’t sure how sensible it was to let this man know any more about her personal life, but at least it kept the conversation away from the attraction that was so evident between them.
    â€˜I have a two-bedroom apartment near the centre of town,’ she said. ‘Well, not really two bedroom. A few years ago I realised I didn’t need a store any more. Most of my business comes to me via internet advertising. So I converted my spare bedroom into a sort of studio or show room. Sometimes people hiring me want to know what I’ve done before.’
    â€˜People hiring you?’ he asked. ‘Home articles for that magazine, then?’
    â€˜You’re laughing at me.’
    â€˜You were the one who tried to fool me,’ he reminded her.
    Hayley had the distinct feeling he was going to be reminding her of that for a very long time. She turned her attention back to the chopping.
    â€˜Are you upset?’ he asked.
    â€˜No. Why?’
    â€˜You look like you’re about to cry.’
    â€˜That’s the onions.’
    â€˜And you’ve stopped talking.’
    â€˜It didn’t seem like you