Awakened By His Touch. Nikki Logan

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      CHAPTER TWO

      ‘YOU’RE BLIND,’ ELLIOTT GARVEY murmured from Laney’s right, the moment they were outside.

      ‘You’re staring.’

      ‘I wasn’t,’ he defended after a brief pause, his voice saturated with unease.

      ‘I could feel it.’ And then, at the subtle catch in his breath. ‘Practically feel it, Mr Garvey. Not literally.’ Though he certainly wouldn’t be the first to expect her to have some kind of vision-impaired ESP.

      He cleared his throat. ‘You hide it well.’

      Wilbur protested her sudden halt with a huff of doggie breath.

      ‘I don’t hide it at all.’

      ‘Right, no...sorry. Poor choice of words.’

      Confusion pumped from him and she got the sense that he was a man who very rarely let himself get flustered. It was tempting to play him, just a little, but her mother had raised her never to exploit the discomfiture of others. Because if she expected to be taken at face value how could she do less for anyone else?

      Even intruding corporate types from the city.

      She adjusted her trajectory at Wilbur’s slight left tug and passed through the first gate beside her dog. ‘I’ve had twenty-five years to perfect things, Mr Garvey. Plus the direction of your breathing gave you away.’

      ‘Elliott.’

      Then he fell silent again and she wondered if he was looking around at their farm...or at her still? Scrutiny never had sat lightly on her.

      ‘He’s very focussed. Wilbur, was it?’

      Okay, neither of the above. He’d managed to zero in on her favourite talking point.

      ‘Captain Furry-Pants to his friends.’ She smiled. ‘When the harness is on, he’s on. When it comes off he’s just a regular dog. Making up for lost time by being extra goofy. Getting it out of his system.’

      They walked on to the steady reassurance of the sound of gravel crunching under eight feet.

      ‘Your property is beautiful. This peninsula is extraordinary.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘Have you ever lived anywhere else?’

      ‘Why would I? It’s perfect here. The wildlife. The space.’

      His lagging steps pulled him further behind. ‘The beaches...’

      There was more than just tension in his voice. There was apology in the way he cleared his throat.She quarter-turned her head back towards him as she continued onward and the penny dropped.

      Wilbur’s quiet growls down by the water... ‘That was you?’

      ‘I was using the lookout. I didn’t realise it overlooked a private beach. I’m sorry.’

      Had he watched her wading? Dancing? It took a lot to make her feel vulnerable these days. Not that she was going to let him know that.

      She tossed her hair back. ‘You got a first-hand demonstration of Wilbur in off-harness mode, then.’

      His crunching footsteps resumed. ‘Yeah, he was having a ball.’

      ‘He loves to swim.’

      Awesome—she was like a radio stuck on Channel Wilbur. Time for some effort. ‘So you must have drawn the short straw, being sent by your firm so far from the city?’

      ‘Not at all. I chose to come. Morgan’s isn’t on anyone else’s radar.’

      That got her attention. ‘You make it sound like a competition.’

      ‘It is. It’s the best part of the job. Finding raw talent, developing it.’

      Realising it. She stepped with Wilbur around an obstacle and then smelled it as she passed. A cowpat. Behind her, Garvey grunted. Presumably, he hadn’t been so lucky. She didn’t stop and he caught up straight away.

      ‘Did you miss it?’

      ‘Just.’

      He didn’t sound irked. If anything, that was amusement warming his voice. Her lips twisted. ‘Sorry, we have a couple of milk cows that free range.’

      Silence reigned for the next minute or two and, again, she had to assume he was looking around at the farm, its outbuildings and condition. Critically? Morgan’s had modern facilities to go with its spectacular coastal location but being judged had never sat comfortably on her. The smell of tiny wildflowers kicked up from underfoot.

      ‘So if it’s a competitive process, and we’re not on anyone else’s radar, does that mean no one else at your firm believes we have potential?’

      He took his time answering. Something she appreciated. He wasn’t a man to rush to fill a silence.

      ‘It means they lack vision. And they’re not paying attention.’

      Okay, for a city boy he definitely had a great voice. Intelligent and measured and just the right amount of gravel. It was only when she gave him another mental tick that she realised she’d started a list.

      ‘But you are?’

      ‘I’ve been tracking your progress a long time—’ His voice shifted upwards a semi-tone. ‘Are those tyres?’

      The rapid subject-change threw her, but he had to mean the chalets that they were approaching.

      ‘Dad had one of his recycling frenzies a couple of years ago and made a couple up for family and friends—’ and inconvenient visitors from the city ‘—when they visit. Tyres and rammed earth on the outside but pretty flash on the inside. Bed, open fire and privacy.’ For them as much as their guests. ‘And what I’m reliably informed are some pretty spectacular ocean views.’

      Tension eased out of him on a satisfied sigh. ‘You’re not wrong. One hundred and eighty degrees.’

      She stopped at the door to the chalet on the end, used the doorframe to orientate herself and pointed left. ‘Manufacturing СКАЧАТЬ