giving himself a good talking-to. he returned to the bedroom. He stopped short when he found Shelby Harris in front of the bay windows. The afternoon sunlight formed a halo around her, softening her pretty face.
A quiet intimacy surrounded them as they stood in silence, neither, it seemed, wanting to break the spell with words. Rafe’s gaze shifted slightly toward the large bed, and an erotic picture of this long-legged brunette lying naked on ivory satin sheets flashed in his head.
His body tightened as his gaze darted back to her. Damnation. “Thought I told you to wait downstairs.”
She didn’t seem intimidated by his anger. “I’ve been up here before. I know which steps to avoid.”
“You still could have fallen. This house is old and has been vacant for a long time. If I’m going to work here, then you’re going to have to listen to my warnings.”
Her eyes flashed defiantly, as if she was about to argue, but then she averted her gaze. “I guess I was anxious to see how much damage you found and what your bid was going to be.”
Rafe looked at his clipboard. He knew that the house needed a lot of time-consuming work. “On the whole, the house is solidly built. I think you already knew that.”
She nodded.
“But the roof had been leaking for quite a few years. I was going to suggest that you replace it, but there are several bundles of shingles in the attic, so we might be able to do a fairly good patch job—for now. Once we stop the leaks, I’ll tear out the ceiling up here in the front bedroom. Then put up new drywall.”
“What about the other three bedrooms and this room?”
“The damage isn’t extensive. This room seems to be in the best shape, and the bathroom is fine, too.”
“So between the parlor downstairs, the stairway and the bedroom room, what do you think it’ll cost me?”
He didn’t know why, but he’d worked to cut his quote to the bare bones. He showed her the bid and watched her eyes widen.
“This is so expensive. You can’t possibly need that much material.”
“It’s not the materials. It’s the labor. I have to pay a guy to come in and tear away and dispose of the rotted wood and plaster.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Well, someone has to do it. And I don’t have the time. My brother and I have several other jobs—”
“I know,” she interrupted. “I know you’re busy. That’s the reason I’m suggesting that, instead of hiring someone to do the tearing out, let me do it. I can work along with you.”
Rafe knew it. The minute he’d pulled into the driveway, he’d had a feeling she wanted more than an estimate.
Well, he had to set her straight. “Look, you have no idea what is involved with this. It’s hard, backbreaking work,.” He eyed her slender body. “I have trouble finding high-school boys willing to do this kind of labor.”
“But this is my home,” she said. “I have a lot invested in it already. And right now I don’t have enough funds left to get this place ready to open for business.”
“Could your family help you?”
She glanced away. “I’m too old to go running to family for money,.”
He looked around “This is a big project, Ms. Harris. Maybe your parents would like to invest in making this place at least livable for their daughter.”
Her hands curled into fists. “My parents aren’t able to help out, Mr. Covelli. And for your information, this house was inspected before the auction. The gas company deemed the stove in the kitchen safe to use. The plumbing was checked out and fixed before I bought the house. So you see, this place is very livable. But if you won’t help me, then I’ll find another contractor who will.”
She pulled a business card out of her pocket. “There’s...the Norton Construction Company in Bedford,” she read. “So, thank you for your time.” She turned and headed out to the hall.
“Norton Construction? They have a reputation for doing things cheap, but you won’t get the quality this house deserves.” He went after her as she approached the stairs.
“It’s what I can afford, Mr. Covelli.”
He reached her side. “Will you please stop calling me that? You make me feel ancient. My name is Rafe.”
She stopped and swung around. “What I call you isn’t going to change the fact that I can’t afford you.”
Rafe could see the sheen of tears in her eyes, then she turned away and put her tennis-shoe-clad foot on the next step. One of the weakened steps. A scream erupted from her lips as she lost her balance and began to fall.
Rafe caught her and managed to halt her progress. He yanked her against him, and they both went down hard on one of the steps. Shelby ended up lying on top of him, his arms wrapped around her tightly. She felt incredible. Her softness against his hardness. He inhaled her fresh flowery scent. Suddenly his body caught fire and he knew he had to let her go.
But he couldn’t move.
Shelby finally pushed herself up and looked at him with those remarkable green eyes. He stifled a groan as his gaze moved to her mouth; he was unable to ignore how badly he wanted a taste.
He blinked away his wayward thoughts. “Are you all right?”
Blushing, she nodded and got off him. “I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“It happens. But you can see why you need to get these stairs fixed before someone really gets hurt.”
“Yes, I do.” She sat down on the step. “And I will. Thank you for coming by with your bid.”
He got up. He started down the stairs, but knew he couldn’t leave her to Gus Norton. “Look, I can give you the names of other reliable companies, but the cost won’t be any less than my bid.” He wrote down two names on a piece of paper and handed it to her.
She took it. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”
He stood there for a few seconds. Even though this woman was tall, she had a delicate build and would have a hard time moving heavy materials, but from what he saw in the thirty minutes of knowing her, Shelby Harris was stubborn enough to try.
“I’ll have a crew here on Wednesday to start the work outside,” he said.
She nodded, but didn’t smile. And for some reason he was disappointed. After all, he was doing her a favor.
“Look, if I get a bit of time, maybe I could help you tear out—”
“I don’t need your charity, Mr. Covelli,” she said stubbornly. “I’ll get it done.”
“I don’t doubt that, Ms. Harris, but I wasn’t offering charity. Here in Haven Springs we call it being neighborly.”
