Fire of My Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

she?
    Wait. No.
Just her imagination playing up again. Or did there lie somewhere in the house,
another poor victim of her clumsiness? Other than the antique blue willow
planter pot she’d smashed in the conservatory, of course.
    Good. Of
all the things she was desperate to recall, she would have to remember that.
    “Tea?” He
looked down at the spilled water, shook his head. “You’ll be needing some more water
then, I take it, but first I must tend to your fire. You must be cold.” He
flashed a coy smile, his steady gaze wandering from her toes up the length of
her frame. Clearly her mode of dress fascinated him. She edged her way around
the table toward the door.
     “Um, yes.
Cold. I’m very cold.” Though the weight of his stare made her body hotter by the
moment, and palms sweaty. Time to go. She crept backward into the hall and
bumped against the banister. “So, why don’t I leave you to it and I’ll just go
up and get into something more comfortable, er, suitable. Look, I’ll be right
back.” While darting up the stairs, she grilled herself over the virtues of
good first impressions, but conceded in the end, she was doomed.
    Upon her
return to the kitchen some ten minutes later, dressed in her best jeans and favourite
figure-hugging pullover, he was nowhere to be found. She frowned, disappointed,
though somehow not surprised.
    Must have
been the socks.
     

Chapter Four
     
    The distance into the quaint
town of Breymar proved much farther than she recalled.
    Stumbling
toward what appeared to be a grocery store, her legs dragged like lead. The jet
lag still played havoc with her.
    But fatigue
alone wasn’t causing her consternation.
    As much as
she tried, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from straying to Rowan, and how good he’d
looked earlier in the kitchen. How in hell could she have forgotten such a
gorgeous man? Lord, she must have been tired the night before. And those taut
muscles in his legs etching a powerful impression against his pants as he’d
knelt and stacked the wood….   No wonder she couldn’t hold a teacup straight.
Her entire frame had quivered just being near him. The urge to throw herself into
his arms had threatened. Yet she couldn’t tell a perfect stranger that she’d
some incredible, unexplainable urge to hold him. No, more than that. She wanted
him to kiss her! Yes, she was crazy.
    The feeling
of déjà vu returned as she imagined him embracing her. Now, she was dreaming. At
least daydreams of Rowan didn’t involve screaming people and bloodshed. She shivered
as she pushed the door of the little shop open.
    The town
was small, but like many places home in Australia it had all the essentials--a
pub and a post office. Throw in a corner store, butcher and a few tourist-type
shops, and it made for a cute, postcard village.
    The first
stop was the grocer, which hopefully accepted credit cards. She’d forgotten to exchange
her cash.
    * *
* *
    A portly
gent wearing an old green apron greeted her, smiling widely. “Good morning to you,
young miss.” He wiped his hands on a cloth and extended one. She shook it.
“Haven’t seen you around these parts before. On holiday are you?”
    “No,
actually. Yes. I mean I’m staying at Banth Manor and--”
    “Ooh, you
must be Miss Quinn.” He flushed a rosy shade of pink. “I’m Mr. Grady. I was supposed
to deliver you a hamper yesterday, aye? As it so happens, my delivery van broke
down you see, and what with the missus taking the Morris down south to see her
sister for the week, I’ve got no other transportation. Poor thing, her sister I
mean. She’s got terrible gout you know, gives her an awful lot of trouble it
does. Why I remember...”
    Awestruck
at his verbosity, Ellen stood there while the man prattled on without so much
as drawing a breath. She didn’t have all day. “Dreadful!”
    The man
stopped what he was saying and blinked. “Eh?”
     “Your
sister-in-law. It’s dreadful she is feeling so poorly. But while