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at him. “Yes sir.” And she gathered a folder and builder's tape.

Round one to ... him?

No way. Cade might have managed to forestall Taylor Sullivan's analytical bent, but it wasn't over. Not by a long shot. And that, he realized with a gnaw in the pit of his belly, was decidedly disconcerting.

He watched her move around the office. So sure of herself, like a gazelle, all long limbs and fluid motion. With her hair swept up in a French roll exposing her slender neck, he had the urge to kiss it and let his tongue slide along across her exquisite skin.

Earlobes were an aphrodisiac, an erogenous zone, so they said. He'd like to find out how Taylor would react.

He'd been so sure it would be different away from the bar, without the ribald input from his customers and snoopy Miss Sister. But nothing had changed. The moment he walked into Taylor's office, he could smell her perfume, sweet and enticing, it washed gently against his skin.

Gentle, my foot. It hit him like a thunderbolt, suffused his skin at breakneck speed and tested his reserve.

Finally, he could escape outside, but with Taylor beside him, escape really was futile.

He'd brought the pickup this time. The pearlescent blue paintwork sparkled in the autumn sunlight. She walked round to the passenger side, laughing as Cade held the door open for her.

"Showing off, Cade?"

"Now why would you say that?"

"Different car every day. Makes a man look successful."

"You called it showing off."

"So I did,” she said smiling up at him.

Witch. She was a teasing witch. But, somehow, she didn't even know it. Biting back the urge to taste her smiling lips, his fingers gripped the door handle with knuckle-white intensity. Anything to stop his brain thinking those thoughts ... thoughts of what he'd like to do with Taylor Sullivan

Cade gritted his teeth. “I simply thought since you like classic cars, you'd like this one.” This really wasn't going to be easy.

Seated beside Taylor, he fired the ignition and eased into the traffic.

"You promised to take me up and see your ... etchings."

Yes! “So I did. Plenty of time.” Now why the heck did he go and say that?

"Really?"

"Yeah, like I said, take it slow and easy."

Mate, you've lost it. What's happened to the wham, bam, thank you ma'am guy?

"Think of today as verbal foreplay,” he said, and saw Taylor's wide-eyed shock. Cade chuckled to himself. He was sure he'd heard her gulp, too.

That's better. He felt in control now.

* * * *

Slow and easy.

Just the sound of Cade's voice, languid and heavy, sent Taylor's hormones into an uproar.

Grateful that Cade switched the radio onto a rock station and she didn't have to find her voice, she watched his fingers tapping against the steering wheel. She was hypnotized, unable to submerge the thrill of wondering what his fingers would feel like against her skin.

Like sin.

Oh, dear heaven! A soporific sigh slid from her lips.

"You say something?” He gave her a curious glance and she colored.

"No. Just a bit tired, I guess."

"Another sleepless night?"

She twisted round sharply, only to catch Cade's knowing grin. “Me, too."

So why don't you do something about it, she moaned silently. Put me out of my agony.

Chapter Six

Cade's new premises were situated in the central business district, a part of the city that had seen a resurrection over the last few years. The gas works were gone, and the docks had morphed into a myriad of apartments and upscale shops and businesses.

They were parked outside an old brick building with boarded windows and peeling paintwork.

Taylor's mind whirred with ideas. Old and the new, side by side. History and modern day.

Already out of the truck, Cade opened her door.

A perfect gentleman.

Captured by her surroundings, Taylor absently took Cade's hand as he helped her from the pickup. She didn't think—until that same tingling shot from her fingers up her arm. Her gaze snapped down to her hand, still in his, and she swallowed hard and shook her head.

Stumbling away, she pulled her hand from his.

Concentrate, Sullivan. Refusing to look at Cade, she walked up to the building and cast her creative eye over the scuffed brickwork, the wrought iron handrails either side of the well-worn stairs. Inside, a knowing excitement bubbled up.

"I'm not sure I like the look on your face, Taylor Sullivan. Give it to me. You think the place is a dump and won't work."

Taylor turned to Cade and smiled. “This is wonderful. It's so evocative of Auckland's history."

"A pile of dilapidated bricks, you mean."

"Of course not. It's..."

"A dump,” Cade pre-empted.

"Definitely not."

A wary uncertainty crossed Cade's eyes. His countenance spoke silent volumes. This business venue meant more than dollars to him.

Pride?

She wouldn't damage that. Cade was going to give her something very important. She owed him her best efforts.

"Okay.” She shrugged not put off by Cade's pessimism. “So there's quite a bit of work."

"Tell me about it. The builders are all ready to start."

"So I see.” Scaffolding framed the façade, and workmen had already begun scraping back years of grime and neglect from the brickwork. Raising her hand to the wall, Taylor trailed her fingers over the hand-hewn bricks, feeling their texture.

"You touch them as if they speaks to you.” Cade sounded worried.

"They do in some ways,” she confirmed. “It's sort of an intuition thing. They tell me what they want. A bit like a character in a book."

"Characters don't speak."

"They do to the writer, or at least that's what I've heard."

Obviously impatient, Cade jangled a clutch of keys from one hand. “Sounds nutty."

"Sounds exciting,” she corrected.

"So, you approve of my purchase?"

Taylor grabbed his forearm and spun him round to face the front of the building. “Feel this, the age of it,” she instructed. And she lifted his hand, holding it in hers and ran his fingers along the mottled bricks. “This building has seen so much, so many pass it. It has a sense of history, of pride of place in this city of ours. See the door. Okay, so graffiti

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