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Authors: Kris Pearson
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you around and I won’t let anything personal get in the way of your work.”
He brought her hand to his lips. “But I’d really like to see you after hours—yes?”
“No,” she said, trying to glare at him, and feeling the corners of her mouth lifting instead. “You’re a bulldozer. You just expect you’ll get your own way, don’t you? All that flirting and those muscles. That fabulous damn smile. Yes, that’s the one,” she added as Rafe flashed her another wicked grin.
“I can wait.” He fired up the engine and checked the traffic. “If I have to.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“Snippy little thing, aren’t you? And so brave with big bad Faye. I enjoyed that.”
He accelerated into a gap and concentrated on driving while Sophie tried to steel herself against his charm offensive and wished she didn’t have to.
“I’ll be back at the studio by five with champagne,” he added. “Anything else you need?”
She shook her head and sighed. “Lord, I hope not. They’re keeping the wine and juice chilled for me at McAllisters’ until later on. I’ve hired glasses and plates, I’ve ordered platters of nibbles from the deli, bought paper napkins.” She ticked them off on her fingers as she itemized. “Sent out invitations and lots of people have replied. There are plenty of business cards to give away. I didn’t get brochures printed because my website tells them everything. That’s all I can think of. Let’s hope most of them turn up and some of them book consultations.”
“Let’s hope they don’t tie you up so much you’ve no time left for me.”
“Ha, wouldn’t that be wonderful? That’d solve my problem.”
“But not mine, Ms Calhoun. I have need of your services. I want a fair share of your attention to get my house moving towards completion.”
“As long as that’s all.”
She caught his brief smile before he returned his attention to the traffic.
CHAPTER SIX
As the sun started to cast long shadows in Thorndon Quay and the final guests departed, Sophie flopped down on the studio’s sofa, kicked her high sandals off and rotated her aching ankles. She stretched her arms sideways with a long soft groan.
“Give her to me,” she suggested to her best friend Fran, reaching out for two-year-old Lucy. “And take some weight off your own feet as well. That was hectic.”
Fran Spence handed over her dark-haired daughter and collapsed beside Sophie.
“You’re well and truly launched, babe. And in style,” she added, sending a hopeful glance in Rafe’s direction. “Is there another little dribble of Moet for a frazzled Mum?”
“You’ll be drunk in charge of a stroller,” Sophie said, expertly arranging Lucy on her knee. She buried her face in the toddler’s soft hair and blew a raspberry onto her scalp.
Lucy squealed and giggled and looked up with adoration.
“So have you brought me good luck, you unexpected guest?”
“Sorry I had to bring her. Pete was going to be home in plenty of time, but they couldn’t take off from Auckland with that sea-fog. God knows when he can fly in now.”
“She was fine. She was really good. And she reminded me I need to get a couple of picture-books and maybe some blocks or puzzles to keep clients’ children occupied.”
“More chippie?” Lucy begged, turning blue eyes up to Sophie.
“No way, Luce. You’re already full of them. If you have any more you won’t eat the good things like broccoli and spinach Mom’s going to give you for dinner.”
“Yuck,” Fran said unwisely as she turned to accept her half-glass of champagne from Rafe.
“Yucky-yuck,” Lucy echoed. “Chippie!” she bellowed.
Rafe stepped back behind the makeshift bar and smiled to himself. Lucy was a handful, no doubt about it, but Sophie didn’t seem too fazed by her.
“No chippie,” she replied, lifting up one of the silk cushions and tickling Lucy’s nose with a feather tassel.
“Hungry...”
“I’ll bet you are.
He brought her hand to his lips. “But I’d really like to see you after hours—yes?”
“No,” she said, trying to glare at him, and feeling the corners of her mouth lifting instead. “You’re a bulldozer. You just expect you’ll get your own way, don’t you? All that flirting and those muscles. That fabulous damn smile. Yes, that’s the one,” she added as Rafe flashed her another wicked grin.
“I can wait.” He fired up the engine and checked the traffic. “If I have to.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“Snippy little thing, aren’t you? And so brave with big bad Faye. I enjoyed that.”
He accelerated into a gap and concentrated on driving while Sophie tried to steel herself against his charm offensive and wished she didn’t have to.
“I’ll be back at the studio by five with champagne,” he added. “Anything else you need?”
She shook her head and sighed. “Lord, I hope not. They’re keeping the wine and juice chilled for me at McAllisters’ until later on. I’ve hired glasses and plates, I’ve ordered platters of nibbles from the deli, bought paper napkins.” She ticked them off on her fingers as she itemized. “Sent out invitations and lots of people have replied. There are plenty of business cards to give away. I didn’t get brochures printed because my website tells them everything. That’s all I can think of. Let’s hope most of them turn up and some of them book consultations.”
“Let’s hope they don’t tie you up so much you’ve no time left for me.”
“Ha, wouldn’t that be wonderful? That’d solve my problem.”
“But not mine, Ms Calhoun. I have need of your services. I want a fair share of your attention to get my house moving towards completion.”
“As long as that’s all.”
She caught his brief smile before he returned his attention to the traffic.
CHAPTER SIX
As the sun started to cast long shadows in Thorndon Quay and the final guests departed, Sophie flopped down on the studio’s sofa, kicked her high sandals off and rotated her aching ankles. She stretched her arms sideways with a long soft groan.
“Give her to me,” she suggested to her best friend Fran, reaching out for two-year-old Lucy. “And take some weight off your own feet as well. That was hectic.”
Fran Spence handed over her dark-haired daughter and collapsed beside Sophie.
“You’re well and truly launched, babe. And in style,” she added, sending a hopeful glance in Rafe’s direction. “Is there another little dribble of Moet for a frazzled Mum?”
“You’ll be drunk in charge of a stroller,” Sophie said, expertly arranging Lucy on her knee. She buried her face in the toddler’s soft hair and blew a raspberry onto her scalp.
Lucy squealed and giggled and looked up with adoration.
“So have you brought me good luck, you unexpected guest?”
“Sorry I had to bring her. Pete was going to be home in plenty of time, but they couldn’t take off from Auckland with that sea-fog. God knows when he can fly in now.”
“She was fine. She was really good. And she reminded me I need to get a couple of picture-books and maybe some blocks or puzzles to keep clients’ children occupied.”
“More chippie?” Lucy begged, turning blue eyes up to Sophie.
“No way, Luce. You’re already full of them. If you have any more you won’t eat the good things like broccoli and spinach Mom’s going to give you for dinner.”
“Yuck,” Fran said unwisely as she turned to accept her half-glass of champagne from Rafe.
“Yucky-yuck,” Lucy echoed. “Chippie!” she bellowed.
Rafe stepped back behind the makeshift bar and smiled to himself. Lucy was a handful, no doubt about it, but Sophie didn’t seem too fazed by her.
“No chippie,” she replied, lifting up one of the silk cushions and tickling Lucy’s nose with a feather tassel.
“Hungry...”
“I’ll bet you are.
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