Love on a Spring Morning Read Online Free PDF

sprinted hard on the last ten metres, jumping up to tap the stop sign before turning and walking back down the hill.
    One more , she told herself. One more sprint, one more look inside the happy house . And then back to being the secretly sad rich girl who had no right to such feelings.
    But this time, when she got to the top of the hill, she realized she wasn’t alone outside.
    Ryan Howard sat on the steps, in the cool shadows of the house, the porch light not on. At first she wasn’t sure he was there and not just a figment of her imagination, but as she drew closer to the crest of the hill, he looked up and their gazes locked. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t been looking at him, watching him in his private moment.
    “Hi,” she panted, slowing to a stop.
    “Running in the dark, that’s not safe,” he said. His voice had a roughness to it that rubbed at her. It wasn’t unpleasant.
    “Not a lot of traffic. Everyone’s tucked in for the night.” There weren’t any other houses on the lane, just his house and the cottages running down to the lake.
    “Guess so.” He stood, turning to go inside.
    “Wait.” She didn’t know why she said it—she was mid-run, and he obviously wanted to be alone. But as soon as the words were spoken, she knew why they’d burst out of her—she wanted a little bit more of this gruff, intriguing man. She’d thought of him each day as they drove past his house on the way to the film set and now that he was here, alone in the dark with her, she wanted to know more about him. “We’re not bothering you too much?”
    He looked at her, brows drawn together, then shook his head. “Been pretty quiet all week, actually.”
    “That’s good.”
    “The cottages all seem to be in working order?”
    She nodded. “Definitely.”
    He lifted his glass to his mouth but didn’t take a sip. Instead he just held it there for a moment, then set it on the railing. “How’d you score a room in the biggest house, anyway?”
    It took a few seconds for Holly to process the question and realize he didn’t know who she was. Tell him . But if she confessed she was the star of the film, this conversation would be over, she knew that in her bones. Because this man—private, grumpy, wary—didn’t want anything to do with Hollywood types. “Reward for good behaviour?”
    He didn’t laugh—didn’t even smirk. But he sat back down on the step and gave her a long, appraising look as he finally took a sip from his glass. “Doesn’t seem likely.”
    She shrugged, acknowledging his doubt as valid. “I have an assistant, and we work together in the evening. It’s just how the assignment worked out.” Not a complete lie .  
    “An assistant?”
    “Sounds fancier than it is.” Emmett mostly kept track of her tea and fielded calls from her agent and manager. “How about you? How did you get saddled with taking care of us?”
    “My in-laws own the cottages, and rented them out to the film. You’re sleeping in their house.”
    Oh. “We booted them out?”
    His lips twisted in a humourless smirk. “I think they’re being compensated well for the inconvenience.”
    “So if your in-laws own the cottages, how did you got stuck with our complaints?”
    “Well, the plan was…” He sighed and shifted his gaze into the distance. “The plan changed. They’ve headed out of town for a bit. Anyway, so far, you’re the only complainer.”
    “Ah, but I fixed the problem myself!”
    He lifted both brows at her declaration. “After I drew you a map to the furnace room.”
    “Right. Thank you for that.”
    “That’s my job.”
    “Are you a full-time handyman?” She was babbling now, and couldn’t stop herself. Normally she could do this, talk to anyone and draw them into a conversation, but she’d lost that reserved poise she usually managed as Hope. She felt off-kilter and flustered. Get over yourself and leave the poor man alone.
    He laughed, for real this time. “No.”
    She wanted to poke