house like this any longer.” He leaned back in his chair a little, and she set the samples down on the deck again. “Chris and the boys are just about due to start the garages so they’ll be out of your way any day now.”
That brought no response at all.
They sat on in silence as the moon rose higher. Rafe ripped into another slice of pizza, still uneasy about her distracted manner. Sophie did a bit more nibbling.
“Better find your earring,” he finally said, not wanting to leave the restless waves and the soft summer air, but knowing she must be tired after the stress and excitement of her first full day at the studio. Maybe that was all? Perhaps he was worrying about nothing?
He rose, grabbed the sample books with one hand and held out his other towards her, pleased when she took it, although she appeared almost trance-like.
“You’re still a long way away.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in a gentle caress and she gave the smallest of laughs and came back to him.
Casting a doubtful look at the darkening sky, she asked, “How much is the house lit yet?”
“Wiring’s all finished, and there are some pretty nasty light-bulbs here and there. Very little you’d approve of.”
“But we’ll be able to see downstairs?”
“Well enough.”
He led her inside.
“It’s so different at night.” She stared around the huge area of the darkened top floor. “This gives me other things to think about.”
The big house sat silent apart from the sea noises. No radio, no nail-gun, no screaming saw. No timber off-cuts or plumbing boxes strewn over the floor, either.
“They’ve already started tidying up?”
He heard the note of concern in her voice. “Only on this floor. Your earring wasn’t here, I’m sure.”
Because I’m damn sure it’s on my bed where I put it when I came in to change.
God, I wish he had a shirt on!
Sophie walked beside him feeling short and overwhelmed. The little black boots she’d worn yesterday morning had heels no higher than tonight’s shoes so that wasn’t the answer. He’d been tall enough in his dark suit. Why did he seem much taller in his old shorts and all this smooth touchable skin?
Skin her fingers itched to stroke.
In the harsh glare of a suspended light-bulb she saw all the long lithe pieces that made up his body; legs and arms packed with smooth muscles, that endless toned torso which started with a hard flat belly above the low-slung shorts and led up and up to his beautiful chest. She didn’t dare look at his face in case he caught the hunger in her eyes.
Quads and abs and pecs , she recited to herself as a distraction, remembering the chart in her doctor’s waiting room, drawn like something out of an old-fashioned medical textbook. The muscles on the chart were striped black and white and fussily labeled—nothing like these warm sweeps of taut flesh.
Deltoids. And glutes. The ones on his butt.
She sneaked a look behind him. Damn, just as good.
They started down the stairs. Each tread had been covered with a protective slab of fiber-board, taped down to hold it firm.
“What’s the timber underneath?” she asked, fighting to re-establish her professional manner.
“Jarrah—very dark.”
“Good choice. It’ll wear well.” She scuffed at an end of tape threatening to come loose, suddenly far too conscious of his warm hand now they were amongst bedrooms. “You’ll want these rooms carpeted?”
“You don’t have to work at this hour,” he growled, setting down the sample books. “Yes, I want the bedrooms carpeted. Something soft and thick and warm so I can spread you out and ravish you on it.” He pulled her close before she could escape.
Sophie gave an enraged squeal—not so much at his suggestion as his sudden unexpected embrace.
“Not the floor then?” he teased, sliding his hands under her butt and hoisting her up level with his waist. She instinctively clamped her legs around him so she didn’t slide down
That brought no response at all.
They sat on in silence as the moon rose higher. Rafe ripped into another slice of pizza, still uneasy about her distracted manner. Sophie did a bit more nibbling.
“Better find your earring,” he finally said, not wanting to leave the restless waves and the soft summer air, but knowing she must be tired after the stress and excitement of her first full day at the studio. Maybe that was all? Perhaps he was worrying about nothing?
He rose, grabbed the sample books with one hand and held out his other towards her, pleased when she took it, although she appeared almost trance-like.
“You’re still a long way away.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in a gentle caress and she gave the smallest of laughs and came back to him.
Casting a doubtful look at the darkening sky, she asked, “How much is the house lit yet?”
“Wiring’s all finished, and there are some pretty nasty light-bulbs here and there. Very little you’d approve of.”
“But we’ll be able to see downstairs?”
“Well enough.”
He led her inside.
“It’s so different at night.” She stared around the huge area of the darkened top floor. “This gives me other things to think about.”
The big house sat silent apart from the sea noises. No radio, no nail-gun, no screaming saw. No timber off-cuts or plumbing boxes strewn over the floor, either.
“They’ve already started tidying up?”
He heard the note of concern in her voice. “Only on this floor. Your earring wasn’t here, I’m sure.”
Because I’m damn sure it’s on my bed where I put it when I came in to change.
God, I wish he had a shirt on!
Sophie walked beside him feeling short and overwhelmed. The little black boots she’d worn yesterday morning had heels no higher than tonight’s shoes so that wasn’t the answer. He’d been tall enough in his dark suit. Why did he seem much taller in his old shorts and all this smooth touchable skin?
Skin her fingers itched to stroke.
In the harsh glare of a suspended light-bulb she saw all the long lithe pieces that made up his body; legs and arms packed with smooth muscles, that endless toned torso which started with a hard flat belly above the low-slung shorts and led up and up to his beautiful chest. She didn’t dare look at his face in case he caught the hunger in her eyes.
Quads and abs and pecs , she recited to herself as a distraction, remembering the chart in her doctor’s waiting room, drawn like something out of an old-fashioned medical textbook. The muscles on the chart were striped black and white and fussily labeled—nothing like these warm sweeps of taut flesh.
Deltoids. And glutes. The ones on his butt.
She sneaked a look behind him. Damn, just as good.
They started down the stairs. Each tread had been covered with a protective slab of fiber-board, taped down to hold it firm.
“What’s the timber underneath?” she asked, fighting to re-establish her professional manner.
“Jarrah—very dark.”
“Good choice. It’ll wear well.” She scuffed at an end of tape threatening to come loose, suddenly far too conscious of his warm hand now they were amongst bedrooms. “You’ll want these rooms carpeted?”
“You don’t have to work at this hour,” he growled, setting down the sample books. “Yes, I want the bedrooms carpeted. Something soft and thick and warm so I can spread you out and ravish you on it.” He pulled her close before she could escape.
Sophie gave an enraged squeal—not so much at his suggestion as his sudden unexpected embrace.
“Not the floor then?” he teased, sliding his hands under her butt and hoisting her up level with his waist. She instinctively clamped her legs around him so she didn’t slide down
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