Passionate Harvest Read Online Free PDF Page A

body heated as his level gaze took in her muddy clothes and dishevelled appearance.
     “I think I can manage.” She grasped the wooden post at the top of the gate and began to climb up to the point where she would be able to swing her leg over the top. The tightness of the denim combining with fatigue made it a struggle and she teetered on the crossbar trying to summon enough energy to adjust her position.
    “Lucy!” Dominic moved forward just as she lost her balance.
    “Oof!”
    She lay sprawled on the wet turf on top of Dominic with his dog attempting to lick her face. Heat licked along her body at the warmth from their contact. Temporarily winded from her fall she was horrified to see he had his eyes shut and a pained grimace on his face.
    “Are you okay?” She pushed the dog aside and scrambled to her feet ignoring the hard, hot heat from where she’d been on top of Dominic.
    “I think I’ll live.” He groaned, rolling onto his side before getting to his feet. He glanced down ruefully at his clothes. “I think I’m as muddy as you now.”
    “I lost my balance. I never was very good at climbing.” Her cheeks were on fire with mortification.
    “My fault, we should have gone the longer way round.” He called his dog to heel.
    Lucy realised they were standing opposite a small farm cottage built of old red bricks. The white framed windows were glazed with latticed glass and a purple flowered wisteria tumbled around a small tiled canopy above the front door. A gravelled space for his car was at the side of the house.
    Dominic led the way to the rear of the cottage, passing some semi derelict outbuildings and a small empty cedar greenhouse. He tugged a key from his pocket and opened the back door of the house.
    “Go on in, help yourself to whatever you need to get cleaned up. I need to go take care of Mutley.” The dog’s tail picked up speed at the sound of his name and more mud flew from his coat.
    Dominic glared at his pet and Lucy had to bite on her lip to keep from laughing out loud at the expression on his face.
    “Thanks.” She slipped through the doorway to find she had entered the house via a small boot room. A couple of ancient green waterproof jackets hung from hooks on the cream painted walls above a small rack full of large male boots and shoes. She stepped out of her own canvas wedges, now almost barely recognisable as the pretty shoes they had been when Dominic had called for her earlier in the day. The worn red quarry tiles of the floor were cool against the soles of her feet as she padded through into the small kitchen.
     A used cereal bowl and spoon stood soaking in the white butler sink but apart from that there was no evidence of human occupation. The tea towels hung pristine from the rail on the front of the Aga, no crumbs were on the dark grey marble counter tops, no mug next to the shiny chrome kettle.
    She untied her sweater from around her waist and placed it next to her bag on the kitchen table. A large green grass stain marked the one sleeve and she guessed she’d acquired that damage during her fall from the top of the gate. Looking down at her tee shirt she discovered it too was now patterned with tiny brown spots from Dominic’s dog. The mud patches on her thighs had started to dry and were crusting in light brown ridges around the edges of the marks. Large grass stains matching the one on her sweater adorned her lower legs along with yet more speckles of mud.
    Lucy peered at her reflection in the shiny surface of the kettle and was relieved to see that at least the mud spots didn’t appear to have decorated her face. She turned on the taps and washed her hands, debating if it was worth attempting any kind of clean up on her jeans.
    Outside in the garden Mutley’s barks and muffled shouts from Dominic mixed with the sound of water running from a hosepipe. She leaned across the sink to try and see what was happening only to jump back with a gasp as the cold tap hiccoughed,