Awakened by His Touch Read Free Page A

lucky. She didn’t stop and he caught up straight away.
    ‘Did you miss it?’
    ‘Just.’
    He didn’t sound irked. If anything, that was amusement warming his voice. Her lips twisted. ‘Sorry, we have a couple of milk cows that free range.’
    Silence reigned for the next minute or two and, again, she had to assume he was looking around at the farm, its outbuildings and condition. Critically? Morgan’s had modern facilities to go with its spectacular coastal location but being judged had never sat comfortably on her. The smell of tiny wildflowers kicked up from underfoot.
    ‘So if it’s a competitive process, and we’re not on anyone else’s radar, does that mean no one else at your firm believes we have potential?’
    He took his time answering. Something she appreciated. He wasn’t a man to rush to fill a silence.
    ‘It means they lack vision. And they’re not paying attention.’
    Okay, for a city boy he definitely had a great voice. Intelligent and measured and just the right amount of gravel. It was only when she gave him another mental tick that she realised she’d started a list.
    ‘But you are?’
    ‘I’ve been tracking your progress a long time—’ His voice shifted upwards a semi-tone. ‘Are those tyres?’
    The rapid subject-change threw her, but he had to mean the chalets that they were approaching.
    ‘Dad had one of his recycling frenzies a couple of years ago and made a couple up for family and friends—’ and inconvenient visitors from the city ‘—when they visit. Tyres and rammed earth on the outside but pretty flash on the inside. Bed, open fire and privacy.’ For them as much as their guests. ‘And what I’m reliably informed are some pretty spectacular ocean views.’
    Tension eased out of him on a satisfied sigh. ‘You’re not wrong. One hundred and eighty degrees.’
    She stopped at the door to the chalet on the end, used the doorframe to orientate herself and pointed left. ‘Manufacturing is over that way, beach is down that track, and the first of the bee yards is up behind this hill. You should probably take a bit of time to settle in. Can you find your way back to your car for your things?’
    Idiot , she chided herself . He could probably see it from here. There was nothing between them and the Morgan’scar park but open paddock. What was wrong with her? Maybe her brain cells were drunk on whatever that was coming off him.
    ‘Yep. I’m good. Do I need to be somewhere at a particular time?’
    ‘Are you allergic to bees?’
    ‘Only one way to find out.’
    The man faced life head-on. Her favourite direction. ‘Well, if you feel like living dangerously, come on up the hill in twenty minutes. I’ll be checking the bees.’
    Soonest started, soonest done. She turned and thrust the chalet key at him and warm fingers brushed hers as he took it.
    ‘Do I need protective gear?’ he murmured.
    ‘Not unless you plan on plunging your hands into the hives. This first community is pretty chill.’ Which wasn’t true of all their bees, but definitely true of her favourites. ‘But maybe wear sunglasses.’
    ‘Okay. Thanks, Laney.’
    His voice lifted with him as he stepped up into the unlocked chalet but there was an unidentifiable something else in his tone. Sorrow? Why would he be sad? He was getting his way. She thought about protesting his presumption in using her nickname but then remembered what he’d probably seen down on the beach. Niceties, after that, seemed rather pointless. Although it did still have the rather useful value of contrasting with her own formality.
    ‘You’re welcome, Mr Garvey .’
    With a flick of her wrist Wilbur full-circled and walked her down the hill and back through the gate, leaving the subtle dismissal lingering in the air behind her. As soon as she turned him left, towards one of the closest bee yards, Wilbur realised where they were going and he lengthened his strides, excited. He loved the beach first and the bees second. Because