Summer Seduction. Daphne Clair
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Название: Summer Seduction
Автор: Daphne Clair
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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He must have realised it too. ‘I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I guess I’m not used to “country circumstances”. Where is the parcel?’
‘In the van. I’ll help you get it out.’
He looked down at her, making her conscious that her head was barely level with his shoulder. A faint twitch urged the corner of his mouth upward. ‘It’s that big?’
‘That heavy.’
She led the way and opened the back of the van. But when she put a hand on the box he said, ‘Leave it to me,’ and lifted it into his arms.
She closed the door, and by the time she’d gone to the driver’s side he had reached the steps and bent to put the box on the veranda, giving it a shove across the boards before turning to her. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I’ll be glad to have them.’
‘Them?’
‘Books.’ A movement of his head indicated the box.
‘Oh…books!’ Blythe knew how heavy books could be. She put a hand on the open door of the van.
‘I never thanked you properly for the biscuits,’ he said. Maybe he felt the need to proffer an olive branch after his suspicious reception. ‘Home-made.’
It wasn’t a question really, but she said, ‘Yes. I hope you liked them.’
‘They were delicious.’
Signs of a thaw, Blythe noted with relief. ‘My parents are coming for lunch on Sunday,’ she said impulsively. ‘You could join us if you like.’
As she’d expected, he shook his head. ‘Thanks, I won’t intrude on a family lunch…’
She couldn’t help a small grin. ‘Actually you’re the reason they decided to come—or my mother did.’
‘I am?’
‘I mentioned you’d moved in and…well, you know, it’s pretty isolated here. They worry about me.’
‘Understandably.’
He flicked another glance over her and she fought an urge to draw herself up to her full but hardly substantial height. ‘I told them there’s no need.’
‘But they want to inspect your new neighbour?’
‘It’s all right,’ Blythe said. ‘I’ll say you’re too busy to make lunch, and if they suggest a friendly welcoming visit I promise to head them off at the pass.’
He seemed to be thinking that over. ‘If they’re concerned about their daughter’s safety I’d better meet them,’ he said astonishingly, ‘and put their minds at rest. I’ll come to lunch.’
‘I’VE invited the neighbour,’ Blythe told her parents when they arrived. ‘He’s coming over.’
‘Not such a recluse, then.’ Rose, a petite woman who had passed on her dark eyes and soft feminine mouth to her daughter, was unpacking a bacon and egg pie and fresh bread, cheese muffins and a chocolate cake.
‘He’s a very private person,’ Blythe said anxiously. ‘Don’t give him the third degree, okay?’
Her parents exchanged a glance. Who, us? And then they both focused reprovingly on her. Blythe laughed and gave up. She suspected Jas Tratherne was quite capable of handling unwanted questions anyway.
When he arrived and she opened the door to him, he seemed less aloof, even giving her a smile as he handed over the bottle of wine he carried. She thanked him nicely, smiling back, and he blinked and she saw his eyes darken, become softer. Surprised at the unmistakable tug of attraction, she stared for a moment before stepping back, breaking the tenuous thread as she invited him in. ‘Come and meet my parents.’
He asked them to call him Jas, and shared a beer with her father while he enquired how the traffic had been from Auckland, commented on the weather, and showed interest in the headlines of the Sunday paper the Summerfields had bought. He even admired some of Blythe’s floral arrangements that she’d removed from the table and laid into open boxes ready for sale, studied samples of her work hanging on the walls and, raising his eyes, noted without comment the drying nets with their delicate, rainbow-coloured burden of flowers.
After they were seated around the table Rose asked what he did for a living.
‘Teaching,’ he said. ‘What about you and Brian?’
‘We’re farming,’ Brian Summerfield told him. ‘Out the other side of Auckland, near Wiri. But the land all around is being swallowed up in lifestyle blocks bought by Queen Street farmers—lawyers and accountants farming in their spare time. We’re thinking of selling…’
Rose slipped in a remark about the children not being interested in carrying on the farm after Brian retired, and added, ‘What do your parents do, Jas?’
‘My mother died when I was a teenager. My father’s living in a retirement home now.’
Rose managed to elicit the fact that Jas had come from Wellington before he deftly changed the subject again. He helped with the dishes and even accepted another cup of coffee, on the deck built to take advantage of the afternoon sun and the ocean view. And after a while he took his leave with a gracious thank-you for Blythe and handshakes for her parents.
‘Seems a decent sort of bloke,’ her father said.
‘I’m sure we needn’t worry about him,’ Rose agreed, ‘although he isn’t very forthcoming about himself.’ Looking slyly at Blythe, she added, ‘You didn’t mention he was dishy.’
Blythe laughed. ‘Dad—did you hear that?’
Rose refused to be diverted. ‘Don’t you think so?’
‘Personality is more important than looks.’
‘What’s wrong with his personality? He was very pleasant, I thought.’
‘He was trying to impress you today.’ And that was probably not quite fair. He had simply demonstrated ordinary courtesy.
‘Do you think so? Why?’
‘I told him you worry. That’s the only reason he agreed to come to lunch. To…set your minds at rest.’
Brian said, ‘Well, that was good of him.’
‘Sensitive.’ Rose eyed her daughter consideringly.
Blythe cast her a laughing glance, guessing the direction of her mother’s thoughts. Of course Blythe had noticed that her new neighbour was quite a handsome man. And today…
If she was totally honest she found Jas Tratherne surprisingly attractive, and for a moment she’d seen a spark of warmth, СКАЧАТЬ