The Boat Builder's Bed Read Online Free PDF Page B

his teeth glinted very white against his dark golden skin.  
    Sophie bit her lip at her body’s unmistakable reaction to his masculinity. She knew she was noticing every tiny delicious thing about him—dangerous considering how much she needed his business.
    “Right here.” He waved a hand at thin air and opened the Jaguar’s door.
    She followed suit. If he wanted to play games that was over to him. And goodness, he had a great way of moving.
    He guided her between a red pick-up truck and a huge rusty shipping container, and when she hesitated, took her hand and led her towards the edge of the cliff. Lord, she hadn’t wanted that. She tried to tug free but he caught her eye and his grin widened.
    “Just keeping you safe.”
    To Sophie his warm clasp felt anything but safe.
    The waves roared, but not as loudly as a screaming saw and an explosive nail-gun and the music from a radio somewhere below. The construction noises swirled around her as she picked her way through tufts of tussock and muddy puddles and remnants of broken pavers. For the moment her eyes were employed finding a safe route to walk, but when Rafe drew her to a halt she became acutely conscious of his hand again. She looked about for any other diversion, and gasped.
    They were almost at the harbor entrance. On the far hills, over the swathe of ruffled water, the old Pencarrow lighthouse stood silhouetted against the gold-green vegetation. To the right the Pacific Ocean stretched forever.  
    One of the familiar inter-island ferries ploughed through the blue sea half a mile or so distant. The little white ship bucked in the windy conditions, sending great surges of spray up into the sunshine. Sophie had just enough time to feel relieved she wasn’t on the see-sawing ferry before the magnificent position of the house claimed her whole attention.  
    She hardly registered Rafe pushing a button on a nearby post. The noise of the winch-engine wasn’t obvious over the nail-gun, but when the small metal cable-car rose into view and shuddered to a halt she turned her attention back to him.
    “It’s incredible.”
    “Nice site?”
    She peered over the cliff-edge. “How on earth did you get machines down there to create the platform?”
    “Dug in from the top. Craned them out. Slow going, but worth it, don’t you think?”
    “Now I’ve seen it, yes.”
    From this angle the cable-way dropped almost straight down to an expansive timber deck cantilevered over the water. The house roof seemed to cover most of the other available ground. A flight of narrow steps also led down to the house, but they were half-overgrown with fennel and other seaside vegetation, and plainly hardly ever used.
    She eyed the small cable-car with trepidation. Its walls were only hip-high and there were very thin-looking sheet-metal doors on the sides. No seats, no roof, just a high post in each corner. Rafe rattled a door open, stepped on board and drew her towards him.
    “Don’t worry. It’s safe.”
    “I’m not scared,” she muttered, willing herself to believe that a flimsy box plunging almost vertically down a steel rail was not in the least hazardous. “I’ve seen nicer ones.”  
    “It’s only for the construction work at this stage. The proper weatherproof cab with seats isn’t far off.”
    She nodded at that, imagining how many loads of timber and fittings must have traveled up and down this way.
    As though reading her mind Rafe said, “We used a chopper for the big stuff. A tough job for the pilot—there are tricky up-drafts off the sea.” He crowded her against one of the corner posts and slid an arm around her waist before he pushed a green button and sent them whirring downwards. Sophie was grateful for the arm, not that she’d admit it. She grasped the post and tried to ease away from his too-close chest. His grip was inescapable. She was trapped there, head tucked under his chin, far too aware of his body as they dropped towards the huge expanse of