Read Online Secrets and Seductions by Jane Beckenham - Free Book Online
Authors: Jane Beckenham
Ads: Link
him outta there. Then she could sort out the house’s dilapidated wiring. Then life would get back to normal, and she wouldn’t be so nervous every hour of the day or have to look at his far-too-sexy face and meet his probing gaze. Then, at last, she could bury her growing attraction to him and keep her secrets hidden.
She tucked the quote into the back pocket of her jeans. She’d have to ignore it for now. Turning away from Mac, needing refuge from his intimidating scrutiny, she stood at her sink and gazed out the window and into the grove of her beloved land.
Mac, thankfully, probed no further and went to play with Charlee. Behind her in her small lounge, she could hear their waves of laughter.
Leah wanted to ignore him, ignore his deep, throaty chuckle, and yet found herself on a knife edge, listening to every nuance of his voice, finding the timbre strangely comforting.
Comfort! Rubbish.
“Hey, why don’t you let me order in dinner?”
“What?” Leah spun around. Mac again stood at the entrance to her kitchen. He looked so relaxed, his smile broad and genuine. It took her breath away. “Have you ever applied for a job with the CIA or something? You’d make a good spy, all that silent footwork of yours.”
“Can’t say I have.”
“No, I suppose you haven’t had time; too busy making squillions of dollars.”
His mouth pursed, and he dragged a hand through hair still damp from his shower after their hours in the grove and his long walk.
Leah inhaled. He smelt of … She frowned. What? There was no cologne and no hint of the musky tang of olives. Just…him. Mac.
No. No. No. She was not allowed to think like that.
“Dinner?” he prompted.
“Take-out. No. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” He dug out his wallet from his jeans pocket.
Leah spied the bulge of folded notes. Money. The man was made of it and thought he could buy his way into… “I said no…thank you.”
“It’s only dinner, not a marriage proposal.”
Leah gagged. “Only? It’s never only. Just like it wasn’t only the bed or the broadband. One thing, then another, until you’ve got your slippers parked by your bed.”
“I don’t wear slippers.”
“Ooh, and don’t you split hairs, Mac Grainger. You know exactly what I mean.”
“And all I meant was did you want a curry or pizza,” he said.
Leah yanked the microwave door open. The less she had to feel beholden to him, the better. She took the defrosted steaks from the microwave and reached for a skillet. “Use what you have, that’s the motto I was brought up with. Waste not…”
“Want not,” he finished for her. “So I guess the answer is no.”
“You guessed right.”
He reached out for the packet of steaks in her hand. “Here, let me.”
The hairs on the back of her neck rose, but the words on the tip of her tongue were silenced when she dropped her gaze for a moment and her attention was captured by his bare feet. They were long, his toes well shaped, nails trim. Sexy.
Oh, dear god. Her gaze jerked back up, and she slammed the skillet on the bench, holding the steak packet to her chest as if it were a talisman against sexy men. Against him.
She really should step well away from him.
Mac leaned forward so that his legs were either side of hers, as were his arms, fingers splayed on the bench top. He didn’t actually touch her, but it was a caress nevertheless. Every part of Leah surged to life. She licked her lips and at the same time watched the curve of Mac’s mouth.
Bad idea. Because all she wanted to do was kiss him.
She didn’t move but finally found her tongue. “I don’t need your help.”
“You nervous, sweetheart?”
“No.” Leah swallowed back the lie.
“Really. That’s not how I see it. Do you know you smell good?” And he leaned a tad closer, inhaling. His dark eyes shuttered for a moment, and Leah thought he was going to kiss her.
He didn’t.
His eyes opened, humor glittering in their depths,
She tucked the quote into the back pocket of her jeans. She’d have to ignore it for now. Turning away from Mac, needing refuge from his intimidating scrutiny, she stood at her sink and gazed out the window and into the grove of her beloved land.
Mac, thankfully, probed no further and went to play with Charlee. Behind her in her small lounge, she could hear their waves of laughter.
Leah wanted to ignore him, ignore his deep, throaty chuckle, and yet found herself on a knife edge, listening to every nuance of his voice, finding the timbre strangely comforting.
Comfort! Rubbish.
“Hey, why don’t you let me order in dinner?”
“What?” Leah spun around. Mac again stood at the entrance to her kitchen. He looked so relaxed, his smile broad and genuine. It took her breath away. “Have you ever applied for a job with the CIA or something? You’d make a good spy, all that silent footwork of yours.”
“Can’t say I have.”
“No, I suppose you haven’t had time; too busy making squillions of dollars.”
His mouth pursed, and he dragged a hand through hair still damp from his shower after their hours in the grove and his long walk.
Leah inhaled. He smelt of … She frowned. What? There was no cologne and no hint of the musky tang of olives. Just…him. Mac.
No. No. No. She was not allowed to think like that.
“Dinner?” he prompted.
“Take-out. No. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” He dug out his wallet from his jeans pocket.
Leah spied the bulge of folded notes. Money. The man was made of it and thought he could buy his way into… “I said no…thank you.”
“It’s only dinner, not a marriage proposal.”
Leah gagged. “Only? It’s never only. Just like it wasn’t only the bed or the broadband. One thing, then another, until you’ve got your slippers parked by your bed.”
“I don’t wear slippers.”
“Ooh, and don’t you split hairs, Mac Grainger. You know exactly what I mean.”
“And all I meant was did you want a curry or pizza,” he said.
Leah yanked the microwave door open. The less she had to feel beholden to him, the better. She took the defrosted steaks from the microwave and reached for a skillet. “Use what you have, that’s the motto I was brought up with. Waste not…”
“Want not,” he finished for her. “So I guess the answer is no.”
“You guessed right.”
He reached out for the packet of steaks in her hand. “Here, let me.”
The hairs on the back of her neck rose, but the words on the tip of her tongue were silenced when she dropped her gaze for a moment and her attention was captured by his bare feet. They were long, his toes well shaped, nails trim. Sexy.
Oh, dear god. Her gaze jerked back up, and she slammed the skillet on the bench, holding the steak packet to her chest as if it were a talisman against sexy men. Against him.
She really should step well away from him.
Mac leaned forward so that his legs were either side of hers, as were his arms, fingers splayed on the bench top. He didn’t actually touch her, but it was a caress nevertheless. Every part of Leah surged to life. She licked her lips and at the same time watched the curve of Mac’s mouth.
Bad idea. Because all she wanted to do was kiss him.
She didn’t move but finally found her tongue. “I don’t need your help.”
“You nervous, sweetheart?”
“No.” Leah swallowed back the lie.
“Really. That’s not how I see it. Do you know you smell good?” And he leaned a tad closer, inhaling. His dark eyes shuttered for a moment, and Leah thought he was going to kiss her.
He didn’t.
His eyes opened, humor glittering in their depths,
Similar Books
