Trusting a Stranger by Kimberley Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

riding wedding photographer,’ Ethan mused. ‘And you won’t admit to being the adventurous type. I suppose that means you must be romantic.’
    â€˜Why must I be any type at all?’ Hayley demanded hotly, before she realised he was mocking her again, although gently.
    â€˜I’m not remotely romantic,’ she insisted, a moment later.
    He raised an eyebrow in her direction.
    â€˜If anything, I’m the opposite of romantic,’ she continued. ‘I’ve never even almost been married and I never will be.’
    Now he looked downright disbelieving. ‘Every woman wants to get married,’ he said. ‘Even Erica — even my wife — wanted to get married. She wanted to do it while hang gliding, but she wanted to do it.’
    â€˜You got married while hang gliding?’ Hayley asked.
    She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the nearby window and realised that Ethan did not have a monopoly on sceptical expressions.
    Ethan laughed, shaking his head. ‘Erica thought of it,’ he said.
    â€˜She sounds wild.’
    â€˜She was.’
    â€˜So you’re divorced?’
    â€˜My wife died.’
    Hayley’s hand flew to her mouth, and she gagged at the feeling of too much onion juice against her skin.
    â€˜Oh! I’m sorry. How unforgivable of me to forget. I suppose this is the right time for me to say sorry.’
    â€˜You don’t need to say that. You were shot at this afternoon. It’s hard to remember things when you’re in shock. Anyway, it was years ago now.’
    Ethan turned away and began heating some olive oil at the base of a large pan.
    â€˜I am sorry though,’ she was starting to say, as she wiped frantically at her mouth with one of the paper towels.
    He turned towards Hayley and reached out for the onions.
    â€˜Don’t be sorry,’ he repeated. ‘I’m intrigued by the idea of a wedding photographer who doesn’t believe in marriage.’
    Hayley shrugged but didn’t explain any further. The conversation had become intimate enough already, considering it was between two people who were not going to mean anything to each other in the future. It wasn’t like this was a date or anything, like they had any obligation to get to know each other.
    Once the onions had browned, Ethan threw in the tomatoes and then a few handfuls of basil.
    â€˜How does this taste?’ he asked, passing her a little of it on a wooden spoon.
    Hayley sipped the hot sauce gingerly. It was delicious.
    â€˜Mmmm,’ she said. ‘And it’s so simple!’
    â€˜The nicest things usually are,’ said Ethan.
    Then he leaned forward suddenly, one finger outstretched, and touched it against her lip.
    When he moved back she saw his fingertip was streaked with red. Sauce. Ethan moved it to his own mouth and sucked it in. Sauce from her mouth, to his. The gesture seemed small but also almost painfully intimate.
    Hayley felt her knees grow weak and had to lean against the bench to steady herself. What on earth was she getting into? As though aware of her discomfort, Ethan backed off.
    â€˜The pasta’s just about ready,’ he said, pointing to the largest of his saucepans. ‘Do you want to set the table while I drain it?’
    Hayley opened one of the glass-fronted cabinets behind him and pulled out some chunky white dinner plates.
    â€˜Three?’ Ethan asked, apparently puzzled.
    Hayley nodded. ‘Won’t Katy want to eat?’ she asked.
    â€˜Katy,’ Ethan repeated. ‘Oh yes. Of course. I’ll keep it in the fridge until she wakes up.’
    ***
    As they ate quietly, Hayley found herself looking around the room. Like the rest of the house, it was simple but beautifully decorated. The walls had been freshly painted in a shiny white, the floors were bare boards polished to a dull sheen and covered with Persian rugs in surprisingly subtle colours. Everything from the light fittings