Forty Things to Do Before You're Forty Read Online Free PDF Page A

her? She didn’t know what it was but she had to get a grip. Take control of the situation. Or at least try and control something – starting with the hurricane of lust that was swirling around her. She tilted up her chin and met his gaze. Bad idea! No sooner had she looked into his eyes than she immediately wished she hadn’t. They were exactly the same shade of navy-blue as his T-shirt, framed by long dark lashes and sparkling with humour. The devastating combination set off a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.
    â€˜Look, maybe we should start again,’ he said, holding out his hand to her. ‘I’m Jake. Jake … Sinclair.’
    Annie gawped at the large tanned hand. The thought of touching it made her dizzy. But she couldn’t just stand there like a plank.
    â€˜Annie Richards,’ she said, aware of her blush deepening and a strange swirling sensation sweeping over her the moment she placed her hand in his. So light-headed was she, she thought she might swoon. Not that she made a habit of swooning. She had never swooned in her entire life. But perhaps that was because she’d never met such a devastatingly drop-dead gorgeous male in her entire life.
    â€˜I’m an old friend of Jasper’s,’ he continued. ‘He offered me the use of the manor.’
    Did he now?
Well, trust Jasper to forget to tell her. Not that Annie was surprised. While Portia verged on the academically brilliant, her brother – despite an education costing more than the national debt of some countries – had never been the brightest bulb in the many Pinkington-Smythe chandeliers.
    â€˜Have you, um, duelled with many burglars lately?’
    Had she duelled with many burglars?
Was that an attempt at humour? Because Annie really wasn’t in the mood for humour. She was too busy wading through her pit of mortification, searching for the exit sign. ‘Um, not many, no,’ she mumbled, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear.
    â€˜So, if you’re the caretaker, you must live nearby,’ he continued.
    Annie nodded. ‘In the gatehouse.’
    â€˜Right. Nice and handy then.’
    â€˜Very handy. Yes. Thanks.’
    Thanks?
Why was she thanking him? And why was he standing there looking so … so … gorgeous? And so …
cool
? While she felt like a complete turnip. She glanced longingly at the door. She couldn’t just make a bolt for it. She’d have to make some attempt at conversation. She cleared her throat.
    â€˜How long are you staying?’
    She held her breath hoping it was just overnight. Or a couple of days. Or even until mid-week. She could cope with that. Probably.
    â€˜Six weeks or so.’
    Six weeks!
Yet again Annie’s legs almost caved. She made another grab for the bannister. Six weeks. That was what? … forty-two days. Which would be – she did a quick mental calculation – approximately one thousand hours. Good lord. It was like … forever. He might as well have said “a whole month and a half”, because that’s what it equated to.
    As if attempting to justify his presence, he added, ‘Jasper told me the place would be empty for a while. I’m … trying my hand at writing a book.’
    Annie raised an unimpressed eyebrow. ‘Writing a book’ sounded exactly like something Jasper’s rich, spoiled friends might dabble in; a ‘little project’ to while away the time between parties. Still, on the positive side, it could mean he’d be holed up with his computer for as long as the whim lasted. Which would be fine. Perfect, in fact. Well, perhaps not perfect. Perfect would be if he wasn’t here at all. And her dignity hadn’t been through the shredder – twice.
    â€˜Right.’ She forced her lips into some semblance of a smile. ‘I’d better let you settle in. Do you need anything?’
    Oh lord. Please, please, please let him say no.
    She watched as