Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Cammie’s mouth watered. She loved Fernsby’s fish pie.
“There’s also shepherd’s pie, cold cuts for lunches, and a selection of fruit for breakfast.” He clapped his hands. “If you need anything, please do call. Otherwise, just work away to your hearts’,” he said with emphasis, “desire.” Then he stretched his lips in what could pass for a smile, at least for Fernsby, who never smiled.
“Fernsby, you are brilliant,” Dane said.
“Of course I am, sir.”
“There’s enough food here to feed an army, let alone two people.” Dane put a hand to his chest. “So why don’t you just take some time off, for however long we’re here. You can come up with more recipes for the baking competition that will pound Digbert into the sand.”
Fernsby drawled, “You’re so kind, sir. But that man doesn’t give me a single worry. He uses frozen pastry, for God’s sake.” Then he trundled off in his golf cart.
“How does he do that?” Cammie asked with wonder. “Taking care of everything with barely a moment’s notice?” She smiled, then huffed out a laugh. “He really needs to write a book. How Life Should Be Lived According to Fernsby.”
Dane added dryly, “Don’t mention it, or he’ll start writing it while we’re on the island.”
She put a hand on her waist and cocked her hip. “Tell me, do you know anything about his life before he came to work for you?”
They both looked at the dust settling in Fernsby’s wake. “I thought about putting a private investigator on him. But then I tossed the idea. It’s better that Fernsby remains a mystery.”
She had to agree.
* * *
They’d worked straight through for two days, to their hearts’ desire, as Fernsby put it, and they’d accomplished so much. Today, the morning dawned bright and beautiful. Dane had a need for something different, perhaps a round of golf on the nine-hole course he’d had built on the island.
So far, spring had been rather cool in the Bay Area, and Dane relished the heat of the Caribbean. He hadn’t come here while Cammie was on family leave. Somehow the sea and the sun were so much more relaxing when she was with him.
He’d lain awake last night with more of his crazy thoughts, like padding along the lanai to her French doors. They’d be standing open. Cammie loved the scent of the ocean and the breeze that blew through during the night. He thought incessantly of blowing through the doors himself, just like the breeze. The thought had been so inviting that his body clenched tight. She was so close. And yet, so far away, as the saying went.
His fantasies seemed so much more potent after that hug in Sebastian Montgomery’s hallway, after the crazy need to kiss her almost got the better of him.
With thoughts like that running rampant through his nights, maybe coming to the island hadn’t been the best idea. Especially with Fernsby a quarter mile away. Because now nothing stood between them.
Nothing except the rules.
For two days, he’d repeated that to himself. Remember the rules. Even if he’d started to hate them.
But as much as they kept her safe, they kept him safe too. Kept him from making a mistake, kept him from pushing her away by asking for more than she could give.
Over a breakfast of toast and fruit, he suggested, “Let’s play a round of golf.” It had nothing to do with how much he liked watching her swing a golf club in those sexy little sundresses of hers. Or they could go down to the beach, where he liked watching her in those sexy swimsuits just as much.
But then he’d have to slap himself for his thoughts.
Those errant thoughts were also why he used the Pebble Beach home gym at a different time than she did. Watching her in her tight leggings and skimpy workout tops drove him just a little bit mad.
“Great idea.” Cammie gave a little fist pump. “I haven’t golfed in months.” Then she added with a smile, “We always do our best brainstorming while I’m beating you.”
“Beating me?” he scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”
Even as he was beating her, she’d have her recorder going, and the brainstorming transcript would magically appear a few hours later.
A most irreverent thought occurred to him. What if he touched her? What if he kissed her? What if it was all on that recording?
The idea made him smile. Even as it heated him up.
Of course it was just another of his many daydreams.
The island wasn’t big enough for eighteen holes, but Dane had eked out enough land for nine. Right after breakfast, they hit the course and tossed around ideas.
“I like Daniel’s idea of finding something in Tahoe,” she said behind him as he lined up his ball. “We’ll have the sand for volleyball games and the lake right there for swimming. And what do you think about putting in a nine-hole golf course as well?”