It irked Anneke dreadfully that a few seconds of stunned surprise had rendered her immobile and robbed her of the opportunity to hurl something at him, preferably hard enough to do damage to any part of his anatomy.
Dulled reflex action, brought on by a degree of emotional, mental and physical exhaustion. Something that a good night’s rest would do much to rectify, she perceived as she set the kettle to boil again and made fresh tea.
Men, she brooded as she sipped the delicious brew, were arrogant, heartless, self-oriented, entirely governed by their libido, and not worth a minute of her time.
A thought which persisted as she finished her tea, then she crossed to the bedroom and slid in between crisp, clean white sheets.
On the edge of sleep, one image invaded her mind, and it wasn’t the sleekly groomed city lawyer in his three-piece business suit.
HAMMERING noises in close proximity were not conducive to restful slumber.
Anneke heard them in the depths of her subconscious mind and slowly drifted into wakefulness. Still the noise persisted.
What the hell…? She opened one eye and looked at the clock atop the bedside pedestal. Dammit, it was only seven. On Saturday.
Surely her aunt hadn’t arranged for a contractor to do some work and forgotten to mention the fact?
Maybe if she buried her head beneath the pillow she could go back to sleep, she decided, suiting thought to action, only to groan out loud minutes later as the sound still penetrated with no seeming loss of intensity.
Annoyance had her sliding out of bed and pulling on a pair of shorts, and she paused briefly to drag a brush through the length of her hair before storming into the hall to assess where the hammering seemed loudest.
Rear, she decided, and made for the back door.
Quite what she’d expected to see when she opened it she wasn’t sure. Certainly not Sebastian Lanier’s tall, broad-shouldered, lean-hipped, jean-clad frame perched partway up a ladder, wielding a hammer as he stroked in one nail after another.
‘Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?’
Well, now, there was a pretty sight to tempt a man’s eye at this early hour. Nice legs. He followed the slender calves, the well-shaped thighs. Good muscle tone, he noted approvingly.
Narrow hips, neat waist, and the slight swing of her breasts made him itch to slide his hands beneath the oversize tee-shirt and see how well they fit his palms.
Slowly he lifted his eyes and took his time examining her mouth, and remembered the feel of it beneath his own.
He moved up a few inches and looked straight into a pair of bright, furious eyes whose emerald depths threatened nothing less than murder.
Sebastian smiled. A long, slow, curving movement that lifted the edges of his mouth and showed the gleam of white teeth. ‘Good morning.’ He positioned another nail and hammered it in.
Clean-shaven, his hair bound neatly at his nape, he looked almost respectable. It was the ‘almost’ part she had trouble coming to terms with. None of the men in the circles in which she moved resembled anything like this man.
Calm, she must remain calm. ‘Do you know what time it is?’
Of course he knew what time it was. He’d been up since six, had orange juice, gone through his daily exercise routine, then assembled a high-protein drink in the blender and sipped it while he scrolled through his e-mail.
‘Am I disturbing you?’
Oh, he was disturbing her, all right. Just how much, he was about to discover. A last attempt at civility, then she’d let him have it with both barrels blazing. ‘Perhaps you’d care to explain what exactly it is that you’re doing?’
She possessed a fine temper. He could see it in her eyes, the tilt of her chin, the way she stood.
‘Yesterday I removed a section of worn guttering. Today I’m putting up new.’ He held another nail in position and nailed it in. Then he turned his head to look at her. ‘I arranged it with Vivienne.’
There was that faint smile again. Anneke gritted her teeth.
He moved down the ladder and shifted it, checked its stability, then stepped up again. And hammered in another nail.
‘I suppose you’re one of those irritating people who manage to get by on an indecently few hours of sleep?’
‘Five or six.’ He lined up another nail and rammed it home.
Anger coursed through her body, heating her veins, and erupted in voluble speech. ‘You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you?’
He cast her a long, measured glance, noted the twin flags of colour high on each cheek, the firm set of her mouth. ‘Is that an accusation?’
‘Damned right it is,’ she bit out furiously.
Sebastian hooked the hammer into his toolbelt and descended down to the ground. ‘Let’s get one thing clear. I boot up my computer at one in the afternoon. Vivienne needs something fixed; I fix it for her. In the morning.’
His voice was quiet, almost too quiet. And silky, she decided. ‘You have to start at seven?’
‘I’m due in town at ten,’ he explained reasonably. ‘I won’t have time to do anything when I get back from town except grab some lunch, and—”’
‘Go boot up the computer,’ Anneke finished for him. ‘And you just had to finish this section before you left.’
‘Yes.’
‘Today.’
‘It could rain,’ he responded solemnly.
Most unlikely. Her voice rose a pitch. ‘You waltz over here and begin hammering shortly after dawn?’
‘Dawn was five-thirty, daylight saving time,’ Sebastian informed her mildly.
‘I don’t give a tinker’s cuss when dawn was.’ She advanced a step, and crossed her arms across her chest. ‘I want you to stop hammering so I can get some sleep.’
‘Ask me nicely.’
Her jaw went slack. ‘I beg your pardon?’
His lips twitched. ‘Ask me nicely,’ he reiterated.
So he was amused. Well, she’d wipe that smile right off his face! ‘You can go—’ she enunciated each word carefully ‘—jump in the ocean.’
The phone rang, its peal issuing an insistent summons she chose to ignore. Temporarily.
‘That’ll probably be Vivienne.’
It didn’t help any that he was right. Elise was stable; the unborn twins were fine. However, Elise would stay in hospital, probably until the twins’ birth, anticipated prematurely. Naturally Aunt Vivienne would remain in Cairns.
‘I’m so sorry.’ The older woman’s voice was achingly sincere. ‘I feel a little easier in my mind knowing Sebastian is close by.’
A sentiment Anneke didn’t share.
‘You’ve met him, of course,’ Aunt Vivienne continued. ‘Such a thoughtful, caring man. And so handy. Oh, dear, I almost forgot—”’ She broke off, paused, then launched into an explanation. ‘I have an arrangement to prepare his evening meals. Anneke, could you?’ A hesitant apology swiftly followed. ‘I hate to ask, but would it be too much of an imposition?’
Yes, it would. If she never saw Sebastian Lanier again, it would be too soon! The thought of