Blueprint for Love (Choc Lit) Read Online Free PDF Page B

day.’
              Ellie was right. She might be a skilled architect herself, but the elusive Tabitha’s drawings were quite simply stunning.
              Just like the woman herself.
              The familiar buzz in the office died as the door opened and a woman entered. Tabitha Fanshaw e was tall, with flowing blonde hair and long, slim legs. She was dressed in a figure-hugging, green velvet jacket, a crisp white shirt, and designer jeans. Stiletto crocodile skin boots partly explained her impressive height. A matching handbag hung over her arm and, with her perfect skin, baby-blue eyes, and lips curved like a Cupid’s bow, it was as if Tabitha had just stepped off the catwalk.
              She was the most beautiful woman Hazel had ever met –she’d seen quite a few glamorous people when living in London – and she couldn’t stop staring, mouth wide open, utterly spellbound.
              A fug of expensive perfume preceded Tabitha, and Ellie’s demonstrative sneeze brought Hazel back to reality. She smiled and held out her hand.
              ‘Hi, I’m Hazel Dobson, the new secretary. We were just admiring your work. I hope you don’t mind.’
              Tabitha didn’t take the hand. Instead, her eyes travelled up and down Hazel insultingly. Hazel felt her neck growing hot with embarrassment and indignation, and withdrew her hand.
              ‘You’re not very big, are you?’ said Tabitha, at last. Her voice was low and throaty, and Hazel half-expected her to hiss.
              Oh, like that, is it? she thought waspishly. Well, two can play that game. She stuck her chin out. ‘It’s not the size of the dog in the fight but the size of the fight in the dog that counts,’ she replied.
              Raising her finely sculpted eyebrows, Tabitha gave a little laugh. ‘What’s this: The World According to Hazel Dobson, secretary ?’
              ‘Actually, it’s a quote from General Eisenhower.’
              ‘Ooh, a history buff.’ Tabitha put a French manicured fingernail against her dimpled cheek, a pose she’d no doubt practised in the mirror. ‘Problem is, we need an office girl, not a professor. And you can start by getting me a cup of coffee.’
              Behind her, Hazel heard Ellie gasp in outrage. The rule in the office was that everyone got their own coffee and offered everyone else while they were making it.
              ‘And not from the coffee machine either,’ Tabitha continued. ‘That’ll be stewed by now. I want it fresh from the kitchen, in a cup and saucer, one sugar cube, and hot milk in a little jug on the side. I’m sure that’s something even a history buff can manage.’
              ‘I wasn’t told that was part of my duties,’ Hazel replied, while seething inside, ‘so perhaps I should just go and check that with the boss?’
              Changing tactics, Tabitha pouted prettily and fluttered her eyelashes. ‘Aw, you wouldn’t begrudge me a proper cup of coffee, would you? Only, I work best with the right kind of fuel inside me. Jonathan can vouch for that.’
              She swanned off to her seat, apparently not expecting a reply. At the mention of Jonathan’s name, Hazel decided to let it drop, reminding herself that she needed this job if she wanted to be near Aunt Rose. If that meant putting up with someone like Tabitha, then so be it.
    Irene was in the kitchen chatting to a young woman with short, blonde hair, who was cradling the cat on her lap. Hazel recognised her from somewhere although she couldn’t immediately place her.
              ‘Hazel, this is my daughter, Alison.’ Irene was stirring something on the stove. Sharp, fruity aromas rose from the pot, and a dozen clean jam jars were lined up on the kitchen island. 
              ‘Hi, there.’ Alison gave a little wave. ‘I’ve come to do the