Read Online Challenge Accepted - A Contemporary Romance by Carol Rose - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Carol Rose
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soft, low humming barely audible. Just as he reached the bottom of the veranda steps, she stopped, laughing to herself as she clutched the balustrade for support.
His faltering step sounded clearly in the night. Hayley swung around, her face startled and wary.
"Colt! What are you doing here?"
"Just checking on the day's progress. Not on you."
He climbed the steps, desire jumbled with a desperate ache in his chest. He stopped in front of her, unwillingly vulnerable and grate ful that the darkness hid his expression.
"Hayley, what are you doing here so late?"
"I worked hard today . . ." she trailed off.
"So I was just-uh-dancing off a little tension. Sometimes I need to."
Colt smiled. "Don't you start. You've given me enough grief for one day."
An awkward silence settled between them, broken only by the distant yowl of a wandering cat. Colt tossed his flashlight from hand to hand, unsure of how to address the unfinished business from the morning.
"So you dance here often?" He injected a light note into his voice, still stirred by the sight of her.
Hayley chuckled, no self-consciousness apparent in her face. "Not always here. Sometimes I dance in the gazebo. I'm working up the nerve to dance in the tower."
"Please." He clutched h is chest in a gesture only half mocking. "Spare me the heart attack. I think we should make a rule that you only go on flat roofs."
"A rule?" She cocked her head to look at him. "On the basis of one tiny problem?"
Colt snorted. "Watching over you is enough to give a guy nightmares."
"I never asked you to watch over me." Her voice sounded strained.
Colt searched for words to shift the mood.
Arguing with Hayley wasn't his most attractive option at this point.
''I'm sorry I stepped on your toes with the crew," he finally offered. "I truly never intended to upset you."
Hayley's head dipped as she bent to stare at the floor. "Apology accepted." She glanced up, her chin raised. "As long as it doesn't happen again."
He lifted both hands in a gesture of agreement. "Never, ever, will I assume the authority to speak to the paint crew without consulting you first."
"Thank you." Her voice was wry.
Leaning back against the corner balustrade that faced her, Colt studied Hayley in the dim light. "Tell me," he asked, "why is being independent so important to you?"
She held his gaze for a moment before looking away with a deep sigh. "You must be in the mood for a long story."
"I think it's a story I need to know," he said.
She looked at him wistfully. "I guess you have to know my background to really under stand." She paused. "My mother died when I was six. I'm an only child and my father happens to be a very wealthy man."
Colt looked at her sympathetically. "Losing your mother so young mu st have been terrible."
She glanced at him, a sad smile lighting her face. "It's something we have in common. Los ing a parent at a young age."
"There's a big difference between eighteen and six," he commented, sympathy piercing his heart for a frightened little girl without a mother.
"There is," Hayley agreed, "but loss is painful at any age."
"Particularly when you're an only child of a busy father," Colt put in. That one phone call from Henry Haslett had left an indelible impression. How well did the man really know his daughter?
Hayley laughed, the sound hollow. "My father was never too busy to direct my life. He hired a nanny, but he managed to supervise her, and me, very closely. Everything was mapped out-my education, my upbringing, my hobbies-and my future. I was actually a debutante." She flashed him a brilliant smile.
"He'd even come up with a selection of suit able husbands. Men with fast-paced careers who had proper, socially prominent families."
"How thoughtful of him," Colt said. "That way you didn't have to bother finding one yourself." Had she ever wanted to marry one of those stuffed shirts?
"I didn't have to bother doing much at all. I was just supposed to follow the rules and smile a
His faltering step sounded clearly in the night. Hayley swung around, her face startled and wary.
"Colt! What are you doing here?"
"Just checking on the day's progress. Not on you."
He climbed the steps, desire jumbled with a desperate ache in his chest. He stopped in front of her, unwillingly vulnerable and grate ful that the darkness hid his expression.
"Hayley, what are you doing here so late?"
"I worked hard today . . ." she trailed off.
"So I was just-uh-dancing off a little tension. Sometimes I need to."
Colt smiled. "Don't you start. You've given me enough grief for one day."
An awkward silence settled between them, broken only by the distant yowl of a wandering cat. Colt tossed his flashlight from hand to hand, unsure of how to address the unfinished business from the morning.
"So you dance here often?" He injected a light note into his voice, still stirred by the sight of her.
Hayley chuckled, no self-consciousness apparent in her face. "Not always here. Sometimes I dance in the gazebo. I'm working up the nerve to dance in the tower."
"Please." He clutched h is chest in a gesture only half mocking. "Spare me the heart attack. I think we should make a rule that you only go on flat roofs."
"A rule?" She cocked her head to look at him. "On the basis of one tiny problem?"
Colt snorted. "Watching over you is enough to give a guy nightmares."
"I never asked you to watch over me." Her voice sounded strained.
Colt searched for words to shift the mood.
Arguing with Hayley wasn't his most attractive option at this point.
''I'm sorry I stepped on your toes with the crew," he finally offered. "I truly never intended to upset you."
Hayley's head dipped as she bent to stare at the floor. "Apology accepted." She glanced up, her chin raised. "As long as it doesn't happen again."
He lifted both hands in a gesture of agreement. "Never, ever, will I assume the authority to speak to the paint crew without consulting you first."
"Thank you." Her voice was wry.
Leaning back against the corner balustrade that faced her, Colt studied Hayley in the dim light. "Tell me," he asked, "why is being independent so important to you?"
She held his gaze for a moment before looking away with a deep sigh. "You must be in the mood for a long story."
"I think it's a story I need to know," he said.
She looked at him wistfully. "I guess you have to know my background to really under stand." She paused. "My mother died when I was six. I'm an only child and my father happens to be a very wealthy man."
Colt looked at her sympathetically. "Losing your mother so young mu st have been terrible."
She glanced at him, a sad smile lighting her face. "It's something we have in common. Los ing a parent at a young age."
"There's a big difference between eighteen and six," he commented, sympathy piercing his heart for a frightened little girl without a mother.
"There is," Hayley agreed, "but loss is painful at any age."
"Particularly when you're an only child of a busy father," Colt put in. That one phone call from Henry Haslett had left an indelible impression. How well did the man really know his daughter?
Hayley laughed, the sound hollow. "My father was never too busy to direct my life. He hired a nanny, but he managed to supervise her, and me, very closely. Everything was mapped out-my education, my upbringing, my hobbies-and my future. I was actually a debutante." She flashed him a brilliant smile.
"He'd even come up with a selection of suit able husbands. Men with fast-paced careers who had proper, socially prominent families."
"How thoughtful of him," Colt said. "That way you didn't have to bother finding one yourself." Had she ever wanted to marry one of those stuffed shirts?
"I didn't have to bother doing much at all. I was just supposed to follow the rules and smile a
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