When He Was Bad... Read Online Free PDF Page A

from her boneless grasp and let it drop to the ground beside him. ‘I might ask you the same question, Ellie . Or should I call you Eloise?’
    â€˜I already told you, I work here. And only Belle calls me Eloise and gets away with it.’ Forcing herself to meet his gaze, she squinted up at him from beneath the bill of her cap. Same eyes—without the heat. Same beautiful mouth. The same mouth that had kissed her crazy. A tremor rippled down her body, her nipples puckered in loving memory.
    That mouth wasn’t smiling now.
    â€˜I’m here to keep an eye on things in Belle’s absence.’
    By sheer force of will, she drew herself up and attemptedcasual. ‘Belle’s gone already? I thought she was leaving tomorrow.’
    â€˜She left at six this morning. As you’d have discovered if you’d knocked at the house first.’
    She glared up at him. So this was Belle’s hot-shot architect nephew with the million-dollar business—which she’d have known if she’d only looked at his card. What were the odds? She should buy a lottery ticket.
    â€˜Belle sometimes sleeps late,’ she informed him coolly. ‘I like to start early. I usually greet her when she comes outside with her morning coffee. I’m running late today because—’
    â€˜You had to wash your hair?’
    How did he know? Her hand rose automatically to her cap and she sighed. ‘Several times, actually.’ But it hadn’t made much of a difference. It was still pink.
    â€˜Ellie.’ The sound of her name rolled out like a boulder over a grassy knoll. ‘Ellie…what?’
    She straightened her spine. ‘Ellie Rose.’
    â€˜As in hyphenated?’
    â€˜As in Rose is my surname. My mum’s surname, actually,’ she explained. ‘My father didn’t want a kid so Mum…’ She trailed off. Too much information, Ellie .
    â€˜Well, Ellie Rose,’ he said, still eyeing her as if she might pick up the fork the moment he turned his back. And, by crikey, she was tempted. ‘If you’d come up to the house…’
    A sense of foreboding slid through her. ‘Pardon? Belle doesn’t—’
    â€˜Belle’s not here. I’m asking you.’ He inclined his head. ‘Please.’
    â€˜Is this because I didn’t come to work last Friday? I went on a field trip to the botanic gardens and I thought I’d make it up today, so that’s why I’m a day earlier.’
    â€˜Just come with me,’ he said, gesturing towards the house, and she realised her tongue had run away from her. Again.Stress, that’s what it was, but trying to explain would only make it worse. Was it because she’d left him on Saturday night without any explanation?
    He was already walking away, his lanky stride putting more distance between them every second. Ellie couldn’t help it; she couldn’t drag her eyes away from those tight jeans clenched around that familiar butt. Temptation on legs.
    No, she told herself and darted back into the shed to grab her backpack. Never again. Gorgeous overbearing men were not her type.
    Lose the attitude, Ellie . You need the work. Focus on the work . Swinging her pack over her shoulder, she hurried to catch up, the nervous fingers of her left hand twirling around the button on her overalls strap. And wouldn’t you know it—the pesky thing came away in her hand. The bill of her cap bumped into him, knocking it off and sending the brass disc spinning over the grass in front of him. ‘Oops,’ she mumbled to his back. His very broad, very hard back.
    He spun around, firm hands closing around her upper arms. She barely had time to absorb their heat and the long lean feel of them before he let her go.
    â€˜My button… Sorry,’ she muttered again, and while she was rubbing away the tingles his touch had wrought, he was bending over and searching for her button in the