Awakened by His Touch Read Free

chair. As she bent and fitted it around the crazy, tearaway dog it totally changed demeanour; became attentive and professional. Then she stood and held the handle loosely in her left hand.
    And everything fell into place.
    The death-defying coffee pour. The standoffish outstretched hand. The lack of hard eye contact.
    Laney Morgan wasn’t a princess or judgmental—at least she wasn’t only those things.
    Laney Morgan—whom he’d seen dancing so joyously on the beach, who had taken a family honey business and built it into one of the most successful in the country, and who had just served him his own genitals on a plate—couldn’t see.

CHAPTER TWO
    ‘Y OU ’ RE BLIND ,’ E LLIOTT G ARVEY murmured from Laney’s right, the moment they were outside.
    ‘You’re staring.’
    ‘I wasn’t,’ he defended after a brief pause, his voice saturated with unease.
    ‘I could feel it.’ And then, at the subtle catch in his breath. ‘ Practically feel it, Mr Garvey. Not literally.’ Though he certainly wouldn’t be the first to expect her to have some kind of vision-impaired ESP.
    He cleared his throat. ‘You hide it well.’
    Wilbur protested her sudden halt with a huff of doggie breath.
    ‘I don’t hide it at all.’
    ‘Right, no...sorry. Poor choice of words.’
    Confusion pumped from him and she got the sense that he was a man who very rarely let himself get flustered. It was tempting to play him, just a little, but her mother had raised her never to exploit the discomfiture of others. Because if she expected to be taken at face value how could she do less for anyone else?
    Even intruding corporate types from the city.
    She adjusted her trajectory at Wilbur’s slight left tug and passed through the first gate beside her dog. ‘I’ve had twenty-five years to perfect things, Mr Garvey. Plus the direction of your breathing gave you away.’
    ‘Elliott.’
    Then he fell silent again and she wondered if he was looking around at their farm...or at her still? Scrutiny never had sat lightly on her.
    ‘He’s very focussed. Wilbur, was it?’
    Okay, neither of the above. He’d managed to zero in on her favourite talking point.
    ‘Captain Furry-Pants to his friends.’ She smiled. ‘When the harness is on, he’s on. When it comes off he’s just a regular dog. Making up for lost time by being extra goofy. Getting it out of his system.’
    They walked on to the steady reassurance of the sound of gravel crunching under eight feet.
    ‘Your property is beautiful. This peninsula is extraordinary.’
    ‘Thank you.’
    ‘Have you ever lived anywhere else?’
    ‘Why would I? It’s perfect here. The wildlife. The space.’
    His lagging steps pulled him further behind. ‘The beaches...’
    There was more than just tension in his voice. There was apology in the way he cleared his throat.She quarter-turned her head back towards him as she continued onward and the penny dropped.
    Wilbur’s quiet growls down by the water... ‘That was you?’
    ‘I was using the lookout. I didn’t realise it overlooked a private beach. I’m sorry.’
    Had he watched her wading? Dancing? It took a lot to make her feel vulnerable these days. Not that she was going to let him know that.
    She tossed her hair back. ‘You got a first-hand demonstration of Wilbur in off-harness mode, then.’
    His crunching footsteps resumed. ‘Yeah, he was having a ball.’
    ‘He loves to swim.’
    Awesome—she was like a radio stuck on Channel Wilbur. Time for some effort. ‘So you must have drawn the short straw, being sent by your firm so far from the city?’
    ‘Not at all. I chose to come. Morgan’s isn’t on anyone else’s radar.’
    That got her attention. ‘You make it sound like a competition.’
    ‘It is. It’s the best part of the job. Finding raw talent, developing it.’
    Realising it. She stepped with Wilbur around an obstacle and then smelled it as she passed. A cowpat. Behind her, Garvey grunted. Presumably, he hadn’t been so