Or, worse, having some little old lady place a pity bid on him that had him scrubbing her kitchen sink or something.
“I’d also appreciate it if you’d ask Petra to take down that calendar hanging in the reception area. At least for the month of July.”
“Ha! That would be a negative, since that calendar has already brought in several thousand euros. If you want it down, you ask her.”
And risk getting on Petra’s wrong side? Although it might be worth it this time. Deakin’s picture on the calendar was for the month of July, which was just over a week away. He didn’t want anyone seeing that snapshot, especially not Lea.
He wasn’t sure why that thought bothered him more than having other people see it. Maybe because he’d grown up on this island and they all knew him—knew his history. She didn’t, and he didn’t want her asking anyone about the incident which had seared a roadmap of scars into the left side of his chest.
There were areas of it that had never regained sensation, the nerves permanently damaged. He would never again feel the scrape of a woman’s fingertips on those parts of his body. His throat tightened. Not that he routinely invited women into his bedroom, for the very same reason that he didn’t want that calendar out there for the world to see.
Lea would probably think he’d been on some kind of ego trip during that whole photo shoot. That was the furthest thing from the truth. He hadn’t wanted to do it, but their trust fund money from Mopaxeni Shipping had been running short for the year. So they had concocted the stupid scheme to get some local guys on a calendar, figuring some of the islanders might be keen to help fund the clinic.
One of the subjects had had a gall stone attack the day of the photo shoot, so Deakin had been an emergency substitute to save the day—such as it was. He hadn’t even looked at the actual shot when it had been sent over—had just checked the “accept” box and sent the envelope back to the photographer.
The thought of Lea seeing how far down his scars went made him queasy. He’d caught her studying his neck when she thought he wasn’t looking. Several times, in fact. He’d even almost balked about getting his hair cut this morning, because the longer it was, the more it covered. But that would have been admitting that Lea’s curious glances disturbed him on some level. So he’d gone to his aunt and asked her to do the deed. She had, and four inches of shaggy growth had ended up on her kitchen floor.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
