The Boat Builder's Bed Read Online Free PDF

kitchen. Camille’s splashy paintings dominated the fridge door.
    “You have a child?”

CHAPTER THREE

    Her heart skidded to a halt. Everything might be ruined if she confessed to being a mother. So, feeling horribly guilty, she drew a deep breath and hoped for the best. “I have a niece ,” she lied, looking down at the floor, and scuffing the toe of her boot over an imaginary spot there.  
    Sorry Camille darling. It’s business. He wants a career-woman, not a frazzled Mom. If I can just get us through these final few months we’ll be okay.
    “Are we going?” she asked too sharply, desperate to get him out of her private space. Away from bedrooms and roses and especially signs of Camille.
    “I’m pleased I came in. You have a clever eye. The retro china display on the bookcase. The way you’ve grouped those prints in the corner. The colors of your cushions.”
    “You see more than most people, then.”
    “You forget I lived with a designer for years—and that I’m in the design business, too.”
    “Boats?” She felt one of her eyebrows rise.
    “Lines and curves. Attractive spaces with maximum efficiency.”
    “I suppose...” she conceded, lifting her briefcase and hurrying to the door.
    “Why do I get the feeling you want me out of here?”  
    He lounged at ease against the end of the kitchen counter. Sophie sensed steel behind his casual enqury.
    She shook her head and huffed with annoyance. “I’ve got heaps to do today. I need to inspect your house, go to this lunch, get my evening function organized...”  
    “So you do,” he agreed. “But the house is only a preliminary look. The lunch will take exactly an hour and a half because we’re all busy people, and I need to drop the car in for its repair. And I’ll be your barman this evening if you like? Or are you employing caterers?”
    “Fat chance of that.”
    “So I’m hired?”
    She realized she’d been set-up by an expert.  
    Dammit, dammit, I could do without this.
    “The pay’s really bad,” she flanneled.
    “I’ll work for wine.” A lazy smile touched his lips.
    “Staff don’t get to drink.”
    “Mean boss, eh?”  
    Sophie felt a grudging grin sneaking over her face. He’d certainly add class to the event, and affirmation her design skills were in demand by the city’s best. Why was she resisting his offer?
    She knew all too well why. Because it meant being trapped in his dangerous company for another couple of hours; evening hours, when a glass of wine on a near-empty stomach could cause all her good intentions to melt and her commonsense to evaporate.  
      Especially if tall handsome Rafe was on the prowl.
    She watched as he pushed away from the counter and sauntered towards her.  
    “If the pay’s that bad I’ll need some other compensation.”  
    He brushed a hand through her long pony-tail on his way out and her heartbeat rocketed to panic level.
    I have to stay clear of him...
    To her relief he strode off along the path, leaving her to lock up and follow.  
    Other compensation?She stilled for a moment, trailing her fingersacross some of the luscious roses on the trellis, enjoying their sensuous texture and wondering if his dusky skin would feel as good. More petals floated down to join the feathery mass below. Once again she felt the soft glide of that single pink petal across her lips and her mouth tingled in anticipation of his.  
    Then she shook the fantasy away and dashed after him, thinking, Dream on, Rafe Severino. You’re one hell of a hunk but I’m not letting sex mess up the best assignment I’m ever likely to get.

    He drove her around the harbor to the wild south coast where long rolling waves surged and crashed against sharp rocks far below.
    The Jaguar bounced to a halt beside a cluster of tradesmen’s vehicles on the rough ground at the side of the road. There was no sign of a house.
    “So where is it?”  
    Rafe turned to her with half a smile. His eyes crinkled at the corners and