Bought: One Bride

What interest could Richard Crawford possibly have in a simple girl who arranged flowers for a living, was passably attractive at best and had never been further from Sydney than the Central Coast?

CHAPTER FOUR

RICHARD could not believe how much he was enjoying just sitting there in his mother’s kitchen, watching this lovely girl put flowers in a vase.

And she was lovely.

He’d now had the opportunity to study her at length, noting the perfect shape of her profile, the lushness of her lips, the slenderness of her neck and arms. His eyes followed each graceful movement as she snipped the end of a rose, then lifted it into place in the tall vase.

Her figure continued to entrance him as well. Although only of average height, she was beautifully in proportion with the hourglass shape he preferred in a woman. Her breasts looked naturally full, with no artificial enhancement. Her bra was of the thin variety, her nipples clearly outlined against the soft blue material of the T-shirt.

He wondered momentarily if they were erect because she was cold, or because she was as sexually aware of him as he was of her. He had no way of knowing. She wasn’t in any way flirtatious, which he liked. Joanna had been a terrible flirt.

But it would be good to have a sign that the attraction he felt was mutual. Were hard nipples a reliable sign?

“Are you still cold?” he asked, and watched as she turned an annoyingly unreadable face his way.

“Cold?” she repeated blankly. “No. Not really.”

Mmm. Maybe her nipples were always like that.

His flesh tightened at the thought.

“I don’t think I should put any more of the roses in this vase,” she announced, tipping her head charmingly to one side as she surveyed the arrangement of richly coloured blooms. “It’s perfectly balanced right now. Any more would spoil it.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “It’s perfect.”

Just like you, he thought, and wondered how soon he could ask her out. Obviously, not till he found out her boyfriend situation.

The phone began to ring, which annoyed him no end. For one thing, it was out in the hallway and not in the kitchen.

“Won’t be a moment,” he said. “Why don’t you find another smaller vase for the rest of the roses whilst I’m gone?” he suggested. He knew how awkward it could be, standing round at a loose end whilst people chatted on the phone. He didn’t want her finding any excuse to leave.

It was his mother on the phone, being uncharacteristically but blessedly brief, allowing him to get back to Holly before she’d finished doing the second vase.

“That was Mum. I’ve been invited to go to lunch at Melvin’s place tomorrow. Sorry, but I’d say the travelling companion job has definitely been taken,” he finished, thinking of how eager his mother had been to get back to the new man in her life.

Holly gave him a wan little smile. “I never imagined anything else. Well, I’ll be off, then, Mr Crawford. I don’t think I’ll stay for coffee, but thank you for the offer.”

Richard was taken aback. Had he been overly optimistic, hoping the chemistry he’d been feeling was mutual? Maybe he’d lost the knack of knowing when a woman fancied him and when she didn’t. Yet he’d been sure he’d sensed something in Holly’s body language whenever their eyes had met.

Maybe she was nervous of him. He knew he sometimes made women nervous.

“You have something you have to go home for?” he asked, and made eye contact with her again. This time he saw what he hoped he’d see. That flicker. That spark.

“There’s always work to do when you run a business,” she replied.

“Please don’t go,” he said with a smile that would have rivalled Reece’s on the charm meter. “I was really enjoying your company.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“Really. And whilst we’re having our coffee, I want you to tell me what it is you thought you needed to escape from?”

It took him a good half an hour to get all the details out of her—and to get her to call him Richard. But once the full picture of Holly’s position was clear, he felt furious on her behalf. The poor girl. Betrayed by her boyfriend with her stepsister. Betrayed by her stepmother with the business.

And no one to stand up for her!

No wonder she wanted to escape. Why would she want to stay with a family who clearly didn’t love her? Or continue to work hard for no rewards? Such a situation was not only unjust, it was untenable.

“You could have contested your father’s will, you know,” he pointed out sternly.

Her velvety eyes showed surprise. “Really?”