The Breeding Program Read Online Free PDF Page A

Kate sized him up, as she sized up all her employers. Strong jaw, with faint lines surrounding his eyes and a two day beard hiding dimpled cheeks. Bright, alert, green eyes beneath dark eyebrows to match his short, neat hair. Maybe 45 years old, but very well maintained. His nails weren't manicured but were neatly trimmed, and his large hands looked strong and weathered.
     
    Beneath his white shirt he was muscular, but they weren't gym muscles. There was nothing showy about his physique; nothing to suggest he spent hours vainly sculpting his body. He simply looked like a man who spent a lot of time outdoors doing hard, physical work, a figure at odds with his clothing.
     
    The French cuffs of his white shirt were pinned with simple but tasteful cufflinks. Both his shirt and pants were clearly expertly tailored, and his black Oxford shoes were understated but undoubtedly expensive. A silver Omega chronograph peeked out from a cuff. No wedding ring.
     
    All of this came to Kate in an instant. Years of judging whether her father would hug her or hit her had left her with the uncanny ability to size people up in moments. She got little from this man but an abundance confidence. He was, it was impossible to deny, the master of the house.
     
    'Ah, you must be Kate,' he said with a broad smile. 'I'm John. Come on in.'
     
    Without waiting for a response he turned back into the grand hallway, striding across the marble floor towards an open door to the left of the wide central staircase. There he paused, waiting for Kate to catch up and enter before him.
     
    The room was an office cluttered with open books, newspapers and notepads. An antique mahogany desk was hidden beneath the mess, the jade leather surface only visible between piles of papers. John leaned against it, dislodging an iPad and a few sheets of paper onto the floor. Ignoring the mess he gestured for Kate to take the ragged, beaten oxblood Chesterfield armchair that sat before it.
     
    John grinned. 'I got one rule. This is my sanctuary. As you can see, nobody cleans this room but me, and even I don't do it. You'll never set foot in here without my permission, but the rest of the house you can treat as your own. Deal?'
     
    Kate was taken aback. 'Uh, sure, deal. No problem.'
     
    'Then the job's yours, if you want it. You start Monday. I have to get back to work, but Samantha will show you the ropes. Matt - that's my son, Matt - he'll be with his mother for the next month, so you'll have an easy run in.' John looked over Kate's shoulder. 'Ah, here's Sam. Off you go, and good luck.'