The Mills & Boon Stars Collection. Cathy Williams

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СКАЧАТЬ tablecloth she must have got from heaven only knew where. Paper chains were looped from one side of the ceiling to the other and, on the plastic Christmas tree, fairy lights gleamed. The overall effect was tacky and yet it was also homely. It was unmistakeably a woman’s touch—as if she’d been trying very hard to make the place look comfortable. Something inexplicable twisted at his heart, because Poonbarra was supposed to be about basics. About hard work and getting back to nature. It wasn’t supposed to be about comfort.

      He’d ended up staying longer than planned because he was dreading going back to England for the christening of his half-brother’s son. Given his reputation for being the family’s habitual no-show—for reasons which were painfully private—nobody could believe he’d agreed to attend in the first place. And in truth, neither could he. He swallowed down the acrid taste which had risen in his throat. He knew that dark and bitter memories were going to be unavoidable, but he told himself he couldn’t keep avoiding them for ever. That maybe he needed to ride out the pain once and for all. That maybe you never properly healed unless you faced the reality of what you had done.

      But one day had bled into two and then three and delaying his trip had become more...complex. He’d underestimated the effect of Poonbarra. Of the peace and calm which always descended on him there—a feeling which had been magnified by the decorative presence of Sophie Doukas...the woman who didn’t flirt. The woman who spent her time avoiding him—something which was both novel but ultimately frustrating.

      He tried to concentrate on the bottle of wine he was opening, but couldn’t seem to stop his gaze from straying to her, no matter how hard he tried. Because she was...a challenge? Was that why he couldn’t stop thinking about her? Why his hot and erotic dreams had featured plenty of X-rated images of his aloof cook? She must be as aware as he of the sizzling attraction which had sparked between them from the get-go, yet she hadn’t acted on it as most women in her position would have done. There had been no unexpected sightings of her around the homestead wearing just a skimpy bath towel. No unexplained ‘nightmares’ intended to bring him running into her room late at night. She’d done what he’d asked her to do. She’d kept out of his way as much as possible—leaving him frustrating and restless, with a painful ache between his legs.

      Yet human nature was a conundrum, that was for sure. When you were used to women flinging themselves at you, it was curiously exciting to discover one who was actively fighting that attraction. In fact, it was the biggest turn-on he knew and it had never happened to him before. He wondered if it was necessary for her to fuss around the bubbling pans quite so much and found himself almost resenting Andy and the other workers as they trooped in and sat round the table. All through dinner the overpowering scent of liberally applied aftershave hung cloyingly in the air. Suddenly, the room seemed overcrowded.

      Were they in complete thrall to her? Rafe wondered—caught midway between amusement and irritation—as he watched the men lavish praise on her food. Was that why they were acting like tongue-tied adolescents whenever she spoke to them, or appeared with yet another steaming dish held enticingly in front of those magnificent breasts?

      He ate and drank very little and when the meal was finished, the men all got up to leave and Andy turned to her.

      ‘You coming to the pub with us, Soph? Let us buy you a beer as a thank you for all your delicious cooking?’

      With a smile, she shook her head. ‘Not for me, thanks. I’m going to clear up in here and get an early night.’

      But Rafe could see her unmistakeable look of...was that alarm?...as the men trooped out and he remained seated. He saw the uneasy flicker of her tongue as it edged rather nervously along her bottom lip.

      ‘You’re not going to the pub with the others?’ she questioned, a touch too brightly.

      He shook his head. ‘Not me. I’ve got a long day ahead of me tomorrow.’ He gave the ghost of a smile. ‘And besides, I might cramp their style.’

      ‘Oh. Right. Well, you’ll excuse me if I get on.’ She clattered a pile of plates together and carried them out to the kitchen.

      Rafe stretched his arms above his head and knew he ought to move. To go to bed and sleep and figure out how the hell he was going to get through Oliver’s christening, especially now that Sharla’s presence had been confirmed. The trouble was he didn’t want to go anywhere. Not when it was so comfortable sitting here, watching Sophie clear away the dishes. Watching as she busied herself around the table and studiously tried to avoid his gaze. The only trouble was that meant he could stare at her without censure. His eyes lingered on the gleam of her shapely calves and the way the blue cotton dress swished about her bottom as she moved. He found himself thinking longingly about sex and how it might blot out the darkness of his thoughts—and the idea of having sex with Sophie was becoming something of an obsession.

      Yet these days he avoided one-night stands—even if he hadn’t always made it a rule never to get intimate with employees. Women were tricky enough as lovers without the added complication of them being on the payroll. He’d seen friends and peers get their fingers burned by over-familiarity with staff. Seen how a formerly cool colleague could morph into a bunny-boiling maniac once she’d slipped between the sheets and discovered there wasn’t going to be a big rock on her finger as a result. Even if you were honest with a woman from the start and told her you just wanted a no-strings fling, they never believed you. They always thought they’d be the one to change your mind. And how could you escape a rejected lover’s wrath if you had to stare at her vengeful face across the other side of the boardroom, or when her manicured fingers were flying across the keyboard?

      Or when she was leaning across the table to grab an unused serving spoon and you could smell a trace of her perfume?

      Nope. That was an area he had always steered clear of.

      So stop looking at her breasts. Stop imagining what it would be like to part those delicious thighs and slip your fingers inside her panties and see how long it would take to make her wet.

      ‘Would you like some coffee, Rafe?’

      Her unfathomable accent punctured his thoughts and Rafe met the question in her eyes as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

      ‘No,’ he said, more curtly than he’d intended. ‘I don’t want any more to drink. Come and sit down. You’ve been working all evening. Have you eaten anything?’

      ‘Honestly—I’m fine. I had something before I started serving.’

      ‘Have some chocolate, then. Surely there isn’t a woman alive who can resist chocolate?’

      ‘I’ve still got some clearing up to do.’

      ‘You’ve done most of it. Leave the rest for now. And that’s an order. For heaven’s sake, relax, Sophie—or is that such an outrageous suggestion?’

      Sophie edged towards the chair he was indicating, her heart crashing against her ribcage. Relax? He had to be joking. She felt about as relaxed as a mouse which had just glanced up to see a metal trap hovering overhead. Which was slightly ironic for someone who’d spent her whole life being introduced to strangers and putting them at their ease. But for once she was the one feeling nervous in the company of a man who was currently pouring her some wine—though she noticed he’d barely touched his own glass all evening.

      ‘Here,’ he said, pushing it across the table towards her.

      She took the drink and sipped it, grateful for the sudden warmth which flooded through her veins. ‘Mmm. This is excellent.’

      ‘Of СКАЧАТЬ