His Little Miracle: The Billionaire's Baby. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
she shot him a mock-exasperated glare. ‘Mind reading again?’
‘Just observant.’
Tossing her ponytail over her shoulder, and clasping her hands in her lap to stop fiddling, she said, ‘What would I have to be worried about, anyway?’
Apart from the fact they were moving so fast and she was willing to risk everything and take a chance on their marriage despite what had happened last time round?
‘You’re scared.’
He indicated and turned left, pulling onto a dirt track with fine white sand along the edges, indicating they weren’t far from the beach.
‘About us,’ he added, as if he needed to! ‘You’re worried I’ll let you down, maybe even leave again.’
‘Is that your professional opinion?’
He darted a quick glance at her, smiling when he saw her tongue firmly planted in her cheek.
‘From a construction CEO moonlighting as a shrink, yes, it is. But you’ve got nothing to be concerned about. I’m not going to hurt you.’
She hoped not, for it had left her heartbroken six years ago; this time it would devastate her.
Determined not to spoil the mood for his surprise, she touched his arm. ‘Okay. Are we nearly there yet?’
Apparently satisfied with her change of topic, he waved his hand towards the left.
‘Just around this next bend.’
‘So what is this place…’
She trailed off as he negotiated the tight hairpin bend, her mouth dropping open. ‘Oh, wow.’
Smiling at her shock, he slowed the ute to a crawl to give her time to appreciate the full impact of the view. ‘Not bad, huh?’
‘It’s beautiful.’
She’d never been an ocean girl, spending all her life in dusty, dry Rainbow Creek before falling for the big-city lights of Melbourne, but with this incredible vista before her—deep indigo ocean dotted with whitecaps crashing onto pristine sand, the occasional dolphin flipping through the waves and an endless expanse of bright blue sky—she definitely understood the attraction.
Pulling over to the side of the road, he turned to face her. ‘This isn’t the surprise.’
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘It isn’t?’
‘Uh-uh. That’s around the next bend.’
‘You’re such a tease.’
She sent him a coy glance from beneath lowered lashes which said he could tease her any time, any where.
Chuckling, he indicated, did a quick check over his shoulder and pulled back onto the track, the ute doing a little sideways skid that had her laughing along with him.
‘What is it with boys and their big toys?’
He shrugged, his attention fixed on negotiating another hairpin bend. ‘Don’t you know? We never grow up.’
That wasn’t entirely true. While Blane’s blundering red-and-white ute with its fancy chrome bull bar might be a big boy’s toy, he’d grown up in all the ways it counted, namely into a strong, capable man not afraid to revisit the past and come clean as to why he’d done what he did.
It must have taken a lot of courage for him to walk into her café that first day, not knowing how she’d react, ready to bare his soul to her.
Then again, maybe he had known how she’d react for she’d always been his, from the first minute he’d smiled that sunny, lopsided smile at her six years earlier.
‘You’re plenty grown up for me,’ she purred, laughing as he growled, gripping onto the dashboard and holding her breath as he rounded the bend, the anticipation buzzing through her body an absolute rush.
‘What do you think?’
Swivelling her head to the left, she couldn’t believe her eyes. If the ocean view on the right was something else, the enormous mansions lining the track were out of this world.
‘Those are some houses,’ she said, admiring the clean, crisp lines of the beautiful houses and the way they blended into the environment.
‘Here’s the one I really want you to see.’
He swung into a gravel drive, the ute bumping on a potholed, deeply riveted driveway which wound its way slowly upward. She craned her neck, a little confused as to why he’d drive her out here to see some house.
Snapping her fingers, she said, ‘You’re building a place out here. Is that the surprise? You want to show off your work?’
‘Something like that.’
He sent her an enigmatic smile, his eyes crinkling into those adorable lines she’d personally kissed each and every one, last night, as the ute crested the drive and the land plateaued to reveal a house.
Not just any house.
The most exquisite house she’d ever seen.
A house she knew intimately.
A house she’d envisioned so clearly many years before.
‘I can’t believe it,’ she breathed out on a sigh, gobsmacked by what she was seeing, her head computing it, her heart aching with the poignancy of what this meant.
Perched on an outcrop, her dream house—the one she’d imagined them living in one day and told him about when they’d first married—saluted the cloudless sky with its sharp triangular lines, classic two-storey design and enough glass to redo the Louvre.
Pale blues, dove greys and pristine whites highlighted the light, breezy feel of it, instantly bringing to mind images of soft spring days, fluffy white clouds and a man with incredible grey eyes.
Her dream house. He’d brought her to an exact replica of the house she’d wanted for the two of them.
‘You built this?’
He nodded, pride tinged with a hint of bashfulness flashing across his face. ‘With a little help from the odd plumber, electrician and carpenter or two. So you like it, huh?’
‘Like it? I love it!’
She opened the door and jumped down, landing with both feet squarely in a mound of muddy clay, grimacing as her new tan leather ankle boots sank into the gooey mess.
‘Guess I should’ve warned you city shoes and country living don’t mix,’ he drawled, the crinkles around his eyes a dead giveaway he was fighting a grin.
Sending him a mock glare, she picked one foot up at a time, the horrible slurping sound making her see the funny side and, with much laughter, she shook each foot and set off for the house.
‘Don’t forget I’m a country girl at heart. You coming?’ she tossed over her shoulder, a flush of pleasure spreading through her body when she caught him ogling her butt, her two-hundred-dollar boots forgotten, his grin forgiven.
‘Oh, yeah.’
He fell into step beside her, taking hold of her hand and swinging it between them. ‘Want to take a look inside?’
‘Will the owner mind?’
They stopped at the front door, an elaborate double-door with frosted glass, so she couldn’t see inside no matter how hard she tried.
‘Why don’t you ask him?’
Realisation dawned as he squeezed her hand, a tiny thrill of anticipation racing through her.
‘This is yours?’
‘Ours.’
Pulling her flush against him, he slid his arms around her waist, anchoring her nice and tight.
‘I