LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

up every available surface.

      Six-year-old Charlie was trailing his cars over the play mat in a corner of the room and acknowledged her with an absent ‘Hiya’ as she greeted him with a smile.

      Seeing her, Boomer stopped barking and raced up to her, wagging his tail and almost knocking her over in his excitement. She patted his silky, chocolate-coloured fur as she glanced around. Caitlin was nowhere to be seen. Most likely she was still tucked up in bed, like teenagers everywhere. The thought filled her with envy.

      ‘Perhaps you should come in,’ she heard Becky saying cautiously. ‘My mummy isn’t here, but you can talk to my auntie if you like.’

      Saskia immediately tensed and hurried out of the room and into the hallway, ready to avert disaster. She wasn’t dressed properly—how could she possibly meet up with anyone while she was in this state?

      But she was already too late...a man carrying a large package, a box of some sort, was following Becky down the hallway towards the living room.

      For a second or two, as she studied him, Saskia’s breath caught in her throat. He was in his mid-thirties, she guessed, and he was absolutely stunning...long, lean and incredibly fit looking, dressed in smart casuals, a dark, open-neck shirt and cream-coloured trousers. She closed her eyes briefly to savour the moment. Wow! So this was what the Isles of Scilly had to offer.

      His jet-black hair was cut in a short, crisp style that perfectly suited his angular features. As to his eyes—well, his stunning blue gaze was mesmerising, except that right now it was directed at her, bringing warm colour flooding to her cheeks as she realised she’d been caught staring at him.

      But he, too, seemed to have been knocked off balance by their unexpected meeting. She heard the sharp intake of his breath and saw his eyes widen as his glance moved over her in turn, taking in every softly feminine curve. He was suddenly rooted to the spot, his gaze sweeping like a lick of flame over the smooth expanse of legs that were lightly bronzed from a summer of sunshine.

      A sudden arc of electric tension sparked between them, an intense, sensual intimacy that brought with it a wave of heat that raced through her body. She couldn’t move, didn’t know how to go on.

      Then the stranger made a rough-edged, broken kind of sound, as though he meant to say something but instead the words seemed to choke in his throat.

      Coming to her senses, Saskia tugged awkwardly at the hem of her robe, trying to cover a bit more thigh, an action that only resulted in drawing the edges of the garment further apart. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped the silk more firmly around herself and tied the belt in what she hoped was a secure knot.

      ‘I—uh...’ He hesitated, drawing his gaze back to her face. Like her, he seemed to be struggling to get himself back together. ‘I um...I gather you’re not Mrs Reynolds...’

      ‘Er, no, I’m her sister-in-law...Saskia.’

      ‘Ah, I see.’ He nodded acknowledgment, then pulled in a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. ‘I’m Tyler, Tyler Beckett. I have a parcel for Mrs Reynolds.’ He indicated the large box he was carrying, marked ‘Glass, Handle with Care’. ‘I’ve been hanging on to it for a couple of days, ever since the courier dropped it off next door.’

      ‘Oh...thanks.’ Her breathing had settled down at last to a heavy thud and now her brow furrowed. ‘My brother said something about Megan ordering a new light fitting...I guess this must be it. He said she’d checked with the landlord to make sure it would be okay to change things.’

      ‘Yes, I told her I’m okay with it, as long as she runs things by me first.’

      He was the landlord? That came as a bit of a surprise. She went to take the box from him but he hesitated, saying, ‘Actually, this is quite heavy. Maybe it would be better if I put it down for you, somewhere safe?’

      ‘Oh...yes, of course.’ She studied him surreptitiously. This could be difficult. If he owned the place, how was he going to react to seeing what had happened to his once pristine property now that three children and a dog had cut a swathe through it? There was already a scuff mark on the wall where Charlie had run amok.

      He was watching her expectantly and she galvanised herself into action. Fighting back a nervous quiver of apprehension, she showed him into the L-shaped living room, padding barefoot across the smooth oak floorboards to the dining area. ‘You could put it down here, if you like.’

      To her shame, there were four dirty soup bowls on the table, the remnants of last night’s hastily prepared supper. She’d been too tired to clear away after the meal and, besides, she’d figured it was more important to try to sort out the childcare arrangements, or at least find out what her options were. She still had to see if there was anyone around who would be prepared to walk the dog—if she managed to find a job it would be unfair to leave Boomer cooped up at home all day.

      She quickly moved the crockery out of the way, along with a jumble of household ornaments, and waved a hand towards the clear space on the large, solid wood table.

      Her brother had rented the house partly furnished and she was impressed—from what she’d seen so far, his new landlord certainly had an eye for quality.

      At the moment, though, he was looking around, a bewildered expression on his face as he took in the chaos. Charlie had spread his toys generously around the room—his was the first box that had been opened as he’d been desperate to be reunited with his belongings, and Saskia had been anxious to keep him occupied. Next in line had been Boomer’s collection of chew toys—a couple of facsimile bones, a rubber ring, a pull toy made of knotted strings and his favourite, a plastic, squashy ball. They, too, were strewn across the floor.

      Tyler frowned, absorbing everything in that one glance, and Saskia winced. She wondered if he was familiar with the mayhem of family life. The slight bracing of his shoulders seemed a dead giveaway.

      Still, he didn’t comment. ‘I was busy at work the last couple of days,’ he said, as he set down the parcel, ‘and I could see you were dealing with the removal van until late in the evening yesterday, so I didn’t like to disturb you.’

      ‘That was thoughtful of you,’ she murmured, leaning forward to help with the positioning of the parcel and faltering a little when she realised he was running his gaze over her once more. Heat flickered in his smoke-dark eyes as he took in the cloud of coppery curls that framed her oval face and brushed against the creamy slope of her shoulders.

      Belatedly, she realised that her shoulder was indeed bare, and she quickly tugged her robe back in place. The wide neckline of her nightshirt had somehow managed to slide partway down over her arms.

      ‘I...um...I should apologise for being dressed like this...only you caught me unawares. I overslept. It’s not something I do regularly,’ she added hastily, ‘it’s just that...uh...’ It was just that she’d been up half the night, using her laptop to sort out the route to school and trying to find suitable day care for the children after school and a whole host of other things he didn’t need to know about. Doing it when the children were tucked up in bed had seemed like the best opportunity. ‘We did a lot of travelling on Thursday to get here. Then there were two and a half hours on the ferry and the journey from where we docked to here. And we don’t seem to have stopped since. I haven’t caught up with myself yet.’

      ‘It’s all right. You don’t have to explain yourself.’ His expression was wry, and she could guess what he was thinking. She’d already burned her boats on that one.

      She started to move away from the table and his glance slid down to her bare feet, lingering there as though he’d only just noticed her toenails were painted a shimmering, luscious pink. He seemed intrigued, curious even, and he certainly didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave, leading her to wonder uncomfortably if she ought to offer him coffee. It would be the neighbourly thing to do, wouldn’t it?

      ‘Um...can I offer you—?’ She broke off as Boomer, abandoning his knotted pull toy, bounded up to her once more and joyfully nudged her hip, tipping her off

Скачать книгу