CA J.D. Bodiford

A Place to Heal


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from a local department store!”

      Emma found herself liking this woman more and more. Not too many people would have had the nerve to toy with such a famous designer. This story held an important key to pleasing this woman and she knew it. All Emma had to do was listen and understand it wasn’t about the money; it was about what made her happy. A lot of people didn’t understand that when you had enough money to buy whatever you could possibly want you didn’t always want the most expensive.

      “Because your favorite place to vacation is Key West, I would guess that you prefer light colors with bright accents and natural materials. Correct?” Emma asked.

      Mrs. Connell reached for another sandwich. Taking a bite, she chewed slowly then took a swallow of tea before answering.

      “Are you basing your presentation on that assumption, Ms. Sloan?” she asked.

      Emma rolled the dice one last time. “Yes ma’am.”

      Mrs. Connell stood and held out her hand.

      “Then how about we make it Jessica and Emma and see what you’ve got for me?”

      CHAPTER 4

      Emma checked her master list one more time. She was a compulsive list maker and this job had pushed her to a new level. Finally reassured that all the marble tiles were accounted for, she decided to call it a night. She had been here before seven am every day and stayed until well after the contractor and workers were gone. This was her baby and she intended to see that every detail was perfect. She had taken advantage of it being a weekend and had dressed in frayed, well-worn jean shorts and a short t-shirt to make the summer heat more bearable. Unaware of the masculine eyes that roved over her well-curved figure, she was startled when she rounded the corner of the kitchen and almost ran into the tall man standing there. She didn’t recognize him as one of the construction workers and he was too casually dressed to work for Jessica.

      “May I help you with something?” she asked, her voice sharp.

      Sensing her unease, he stepped back and held up his hands to show her that he carried nothing.

      “Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw the lights on down here and thought I should check on things.” His deep voice sent shivers down Emma’s spine. Trying to ignore the feeling, she stiffened her back and frowned.

      “I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before,” she said.

      He smiled, revealing even, white teeth. “No, you haven’t. I’ve been out of the country for several months.” He held out his hand. “I’m Blake Rochester.”

      Emma continued to stand stiffly, refusing to take the offered hand.

      He shrugged and dropped his hand. “Suit yourself. But if you don’t tell me your name, I’ll just have to make one up.” He tilted his head bringing his hand to his chin, studying her.

      “What shall I call you?” he asked out loud. “Sharon? Stella? Teresa?” he narrowed his eyes. “How about Ethel?”

      Emma stared at the man, unsmiling, refusing to break eye contact. “I’ll ask you again-may I help you with something? Because if not, you need to leave. I’m about to lock up for the day.” Her tone was stern.

      He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway, obviously not intending to do as she said. Emma’s eyes were drawn to the size of his biceps, straining the cloth of the sleeves. Her stomach lurched as she realized the precariousness of her position. The guesthouse was quite a distance from the main house and she was very isolated here alone. She felt sure she could defend herself if he decided to try anything but the question was how long she could hold out against his obvious greater strength? Her mace was in her purse and her purse was in the car, as usual. Her cell phone was at her waist but could she use it in time?

      Blake stared at the woman in front of him. Her beautiful eyes were wide with fear yet she stood her ground against him. Interesting. It almost made him want to call her bluff to see just what she would do but suddenly realizing he had no stomach for scaring her, he straightened and stepped back.

      “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He turned and walked toward the door without saying anything else. Emma watched, disbelieving as he left. The sound of a powerful motorcycle roaring to life followed some minutes later and Emma got to the door just in time to see the headlight as it followed the curved driveway to the gates. Her hands were shaking as she locked the door and walked to her car. Tonight had surely been her lucky night. Instead of going home, she could have been raped or worse. She didn’t know what had changed his mind but whatever it was, she was grateful.

      Emma looked over the plans for the bathroom remodel, chewing on her bottom lip as she concentrated. She didn’t like the positioning of the window that was being added.

      “Maybe if we moved it over and up just a bit it would bring more sunlight into the shower,” she mused aloud. She nearly jumped out of her skin as a deep voice added to her thought.

      “Why not just widen it, instead?”

      She whirled, shocked to see the man from the other night, standing almost beside her. Once again, she hadn’t heard a thing. The man must move like a damn cat!

      He grinned at the look on her face. “Didn’t think you’d see me again, huh?”

      Emma stared, disconcerted that he had managed to sneak up on her again but not frightened as she had been before. See him again? She almost laughed aloud at the question! She had seen him plenty in the days since they had first met - in her dreams! All she had to do was close her eyes and she could visualize every inch of his body. The sun-streaked brown hair cut close to his head. His beautiful blue eyes the color of the deepest water accentuated by dark arched brows; his strong face and square chin. His shoulders were broad, almost spanning the width of the doorway and his arms were thick and powerful. The watch spanning his wrist accentuated his masculinity in a way Emma couldn’t explain. Something about a man wearing a man’s watch had always appealed to her. None of those skinny, high priced pieces for her. His waist was narrow with trim hips leading to well-muscled thighs. Hell, even his feet were all man in the leather sandals he wore! And he had the most gorgeous ass Emma had ever seen and she was something of a connoisseur when it came to that part of the male anatomy. Yep. She had seen him plenty of times in the last three days. But this time he didn’t scare her. They were surrounded by construction workers so she was safe. He leaned over the table, looking at the drawings as if he had been there all along.

      “So what do you think, Ethel? Wouldn’t just widening the window be the easiest for everybody?” he asked.

      “Emma,” she said.

      He looked up at her, not speaking, mesmerized by the unusual coloring of her eyes.

      When he didn’t answer her Emma didn’t think he heard her so she said it again. “Emma.”

      “Excuse me?” he finally said, after blinking several times.

      Emma cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “My name is Emma,” she repeated. “Emma Sloan.”

      He smiled broadly, revealing dimples she had not seen the last time.

      “Very nice to meet you Emma Sloan,” he said warmly. “Now will you tell me what you are doing here?”

      “I’m a designer. Jessica hired me to remodel the guest house,” she explained.

      He turned and lifted himself easily onto the edge of the heavy table. She watched him as he looked around the room. They were in the middle of the kitchen, which was currently more like a disaster area.

      “Can’t say as I see much that impresses me so far,” he said.

      Emma bristled at his casual remark.

      “It never looks like much in the beginning,” she said defensively.

      He held his hands up.