cook?â
Â
Ellie set to work as soon as sheâd eaten the meal Matt had prepared for her, which had been every bit as tasty as sheâd expected. To her relief, he didnât sit with her while she ate because a business call came through requiring his attention.
She started in the dining and living rooms, admiring the exquisite cream, rose and jade furnishings against the dark antique furniture as she set up the stepladder and got to work.
Next she chose a cosy little room down the hall which would catch the afternoon sun and give hours of pleasure ona cold winterâs day. Bookcases overloaded with classics lined one wall.
Another shelf was crammed with fifties memorabilia. A selection of old vinyl 45s sat atop a small record player. Bill Haleyâs âRock around the Clock,â Pat Booneâs âLove Letters in the Sand.â The Platters, Elvis.
A photo album caught Ellieâs eye. On the front was a black-and-white image of a teenage Belle. Ellie recognised the shape of her face, the wide eyes and broad cheekbones. But the hair was a surpriseâpulled back in a curly ponytail, not unlike her own unruly locks. She was dressed in a full-skirted gingham-checked dress cinched at the waist with a wide belt and wore a heart-shaped locket around her neck.
Ellieâs fingers tangled in the slim chain of her own locket which had belonged to her mother. A tingle danced over her nape, as if someone had stroked a finger down her spine.
Shaking the sensation away, she set the album back in place. But for just a heartbeat or two sheâd been mesmerised by the image and a strange feeling that she was missing a piece of a puzzle.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A SHORT time later she was halfway up the stepladder when Matt appeared to inform her he was leaving. He wore a white shirt, silver-grey silk tie, dark trousers and a chocolate-brown suede jacket. Smelling fresh and masculine and entirely too sexy to be heading out to anything remotely concerned with business.
But thenâ¦he hadnât mentioned business , had he? Only that he had a luncheon appointment. Which was open to all manner of interpretation.
Something slithered through Ellieâs belly and coiled tight around the top of her already stuffy chest, making it hard to breathe. Something that felt horribly, unimaginably like⦠possessiveness. Her fingers tightened on her little bucket of water, her other hand clutched the top rung of the ladder. No . It was not that. No way.
She saw his brows pull down. âAre you okay?â
And before she could blink heâd crossed the room and was beside her, his face too close, his hands reaching for her shoulders. With Ellie on the ladder, they were the same height. His eyes almost lined up with hers. His mouth was⦠too close.
âYou startled me, damn you.â Damn his luncheon date. And damn her dumb reaction . She jerked away from his touch.A few drops of water splashed out of the bucket and onto his shirt.
âAhâ¦â
âYes, ah .â He took the bucket from her nerveless fingers, set it down out of harmâs way, then straightened to face her.
Biting her lip, she stared at the damp splotch, but then her traitorous gaze shifted to the dark hairs barely visible beneath the fine textured fabric. To his neck, and the pinpricks of newly shaved stubble. His Adamâs apple.
She sucked in a breath, bringing the scent of his aftershave with it, and she forgot all about luncheon dates and being snippy.
She was too busy being turned on.
An image of her loosening his tie, slipping his buttons undone and spreading his shirt open, sliding her hands between fabric and olive skin danced behind her eyes. Setting her mouth to that masculine throatâ¦
Swallowing hard, she dragged her eyes awayâ¦and upâ¦to meet a pair of dark assessing eyes. âSorryââ she lifted one finger of her free hand ââabout the shirt.â
He leaned nearer. She
Â
Ellie set to work as soon as sheâd eaten the meal Matt had prepared for her, which had been every bit as tasty as sheâd expected. To her relief, he didnât sit with her while she ate because a business call came through requiring his attention.
She started in the dining and living rooms, admiring the exquisite cream, rose and jade furnishings against the dark antique furniture as she set up the stepladder and got to work.
Next she chose a cosy little room down the hall which would catch the afternoon sun and give hours of pleasure ona cold winterâs day. Bookcases overloaded with classics lined one wall.
Another shelf was crammed with fifties memorabilia. A selection of old vinyl 45s sat atop a small record player. Bill Haleyâs âRock around the Clock,â Pat Booneâs âLove Letters in the Sand.â The Platters, Elvis.
A photo album caught Ellieâs eye. On the front was a black-and-white image of a teenage Belle. Ellie recognised the shape of her face, the wide eyes and broad cheekbones. But the hair was a surpriseâpulled back in a curly ponytail, not unlike her own unruly locks. She was dressed in a full-skirted gingham-checked dress cinched at the waist with a wide belt and wore a heart-shaped locket around her neck.
Ellieâs fingers tangled in the slim chain of her own locket which had belonged to her mother. A tingle danced over her nape, as if someone had stroked a finger down her spine.
Shaking the sensation away, she set the album back in place. But for just a heartbeat or two sheâd been mesmerised by the image and a strange feeling that she was missing a piece of a puzzle.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A SHORT time later she was halfway up the stepladder when Matt appeared to inform her he was leaving. He wore a white shirt, silver-grey silk tie, dark trousers and a chocolate-brown suede jacket. Smelling fresh and masculine and entirely too sexy to be heading out to anything remotely concerned with business.
But thenâ¦he hadnât mentioned business , had he? Only that he had a luncheon appointment. Which was open to all manner of interpretation.
Something slithered through Ellieâs belly and coiled tight around the top of her already stuffy chest, making it hard to breathe. Something that felt horribly, unimaginably like⦠possessiveness. Her fingers tightened on her little bucket of water, her other hand clutched the top rung of the ladder. No . It was not that. No way.
She saw his brows pull down. âAre you okay?â
And before she could blink heâd crossed the room and was beside her, his face too close, his hands reaching for her shoulders. With Ellie on the ladder, they were the same height. His eyes almost lined up with hers. His mouth was⦠too close.
âYou startled me, damn you.â Damn his luncheon date. And damn her dumb reaction . She jerked away from his touch.A few drops of water splashed out of the bucket and onto his shirt.
âAhâ¦â
âYes, ah .â He took the bucket from her nerveless fingers, set it down out of harmâs way, then straightened to face her.
Biting her lip, she stared at the damp splotch, but then her traitorous gaze shifted to the dark hairs barely visible beneath the fine textured fabric. To his neck, and the pinpricks of newly shaved stubble. His Adamâs apple.
She sucked in a breath, bringing the scent of his aftershave with it, and she forgot all about luncheon dates and being snippy.
She was too busy being turned on.
An image of her loosening his tie, slipping his buttons undone and spreading his shirt open, sliding her hands between fabric and olive skin danced behind her eyes. Setting her mouth to that masculine throatâ¦
Swallowing hard, she dragged her eyes awayâ¦and upâ¦to meet a pair of dark assessing eyes. âSorryââ she lifted one finger of her free hand ââabout the shirt.â
He leaned nearer. She
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