Her Surprise Family

Rafe knew he should turn around, climb back into his truck and drive off. He had enough of his own problems without giving away his time. But something kept him rooted to the spot. Maybe he was curious about why a single woman wanted to buy this old house and turn it into a bed-and-breakfast. And the longing in her sparkling eyes made him ask, “What do you have in mind?”

Shelby stepped into the sun, which brought out the coppery highlights in her dark hair. “Because of the historical status of this house, all the facade repair is covered under the federal grant money.”

Rafe nodded. “We’re already handling that.”

“Yes, I’ve seen your work around town. You’re very good. But I need more done. I would like you to check the roof and have a look at the front rooms inside. Tell me how much it would cost to fix it up—” she hesitated and took a deep breath “—a little at a time. The bare necessities. Enough so I can open for business.”

Rafe held back his smile. “Haven Springs isn’t exactly overflowing with tourists.”

“But with the summer there’s the lake traffic, and then in the fall people come to see the foliage. I plan to advertise—there are people who like to stay in historical homes. After a few months I’ll be able to afford to continue the work on restoring Stewart Manor.”

There was that stubborn attitude again. Her full mouth drew into a pouty bow and something stirred in his gut. Damn.

“Let’s have a look, then.” He returned to the porch and walked to the heavy oak door with its oval cut-glass center. He opened it and stepped over the threshold into a huge entryway. A dim coolness greeted him as he stood on the bare hardwood floors. A magnificent chandelier hung from the high ceiling, edged with oak crown molding. The staircase across the hall made its way to the second story. Several spindles were missing in the banister, and a few of the steps were also missing.

“You’d better stay off the stairs until I’ve checked them out,” he said as he turned to his left and entered the front room, what used to be called the parlor.

Shelby stood back and watched the cocky Mr. Covelli move around her house. So he thought she was helpless. That she had to be warned about obvious dangers. Well, she had news for him. She’d spent her entire life taking care of herself and could do it just fine.

She’d asked around and knew he was her best chance for a fair deal. Worse, he knew it, too.

She went after him only to find him standing at the three double-hung windows and eying the frames. Then he glanced down at the ornate woodwork along the baseboards. He squatted for a closer look. She couldn’t help but notice the nice curve of his rear end, the way his muscular thighs strained against the fabric of his worn jeans. Her gaze moved to his chambray shirt as the muscles of his broad shoulders and back flexed. A shiver of awareness raced through her. She quickly raised her eyes to his face and found him in deep concentration. His bronze skin bespoke his Italian ancestry and the fact that he worked in the sun.

His eyes were chocolate brown and mesmerizing. His coal-black hair was cropped short around the ears. He pulled off his cap and his thick mane still appeared neatly combed. She somehow knew that was the way Rafe Covelli’s life was. All in neat, organized order. Everything cut and dried. Black or white.

The complete opposite of hers.

She doubted he would go along with her idea. It was beginning to seem crazy even to her.

“Well, Ms. Harris,” he said as he stood and faced her, “there’s bad news. You’ve had a water leak around these two west windows.” He pointed out the spots.

Shelby’s gaze was glued to his large hand with the long, tapered fingers. Strong, capable hands that carved wood. She couldn’t help but wonder how the roughened palms would feel on her skin.... She blinked away the thought and turned her attention back to what he was saying.

“First, I’ll have to go up to the attic and find the leaks, then I’ll have to replace these frames and tear out the plaster.” He went down on one knee. “See the moisture here? It’s worked down into the baseboards. This section of wood is warped and will have to be replaced, too.” He stood and walked into the hall again. She hurried to keep up. “The stairway needs to have those steps and spindles replaced. All in top-grade oak.” He kept walking until he finally reached the living room.

This was the room where Shelby had taken up residence. She’d cleaned and hung curtains, then arranged her furniture which consisted of a sofa, a chair, a portable television and a bookcase. A desk and computer were against the far wall. The only other rooms she’d used since moving in three days ago, had been the small servants’ quarters off the kitchen, which consisted of a bedroom and bath.

Rafe approached the huge stone fireplace and began to check out the carved-oak mantel. She held her breath when he stopped and eyed the framed photographs lined up on the top.

He looked at her. “Family?” he asked.

Shelby hesitated, then answered, “Yes.”

He smiled. “I didn’t think anyone had more family than I do.”

He studied the assortment of pictures, and a wave of envy washed over her Like most people, Rafe Covelli seemed to take his relatives for granted. But there are those of us who don’t have a real family to claim.

She shook away the rush of loneliness. “You have a big family, Mr. Covelli?”

He nodded. “A grandmother, a mother, a brother and sister, but also a large assortment of aunts and uncles and cousins. Family reunions are a madhouse.” He smiled as his gaze met hers. Like a magnet, his dark eyes held her captive, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. Finally he turned away and moved on to finish his appraisal.

He leaned down and examined the floor. Then wrote more notes on his clipboard. “Do any of your family live around here?”

“Uh, no,” she said. “They’re farther south.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Why didn’t you buy a house there? Then maybe your family would be able to help you out.”

“I’d rather do this on my own. Besides, I could afford this place.”

“How’d you find out about Stewart Manor?”

She hadn’t had to answer this many questions to take out a mortgage. “It was on the Internet. You can find anything and everything if you know where to search.”

Rafe stood and walked over to the corner window. “As far as I’m concerned, you can put all the computers in a pile and blow them to kingdom come.”

Shelby bit back a smile as she watched the big man move around the room. So Mr. Macho was a cyberphobe. “Sounds like you’ve had some problems with your computer.”

“None whatsoever,” he assured her. “I don’t touch the thing. I leave all the computer business to my sister. Angelina minored in computer science in college. Got one in the office and I stay clear of it.”

“Well, if you ever decide you want to learn, just call me. I’m on the computer every day. I do graphics work and design web pages for a living.”

He cocked an eyebrow as if to say, I’ll want to learn when hell freezes over. “Thanks for the offer, but I doubt I’ll ever require your services. How many rooms upstairs?”

“Five bedrooms and two baths. One of the baths is connected to the master suite. The third floor is the attic.”

“How many rooms do you want me to look at?”

She shrugged. “I’d like you to tell me if any of them need major work. There are some water rings on the ceilings in two of the bedrooms, and in one of them some of the plaster has already fallen. I want to start painting and wallpapering as soon as possible.”

“I think you better hold off on any decorating until we assess the damage. Tearing out old plaster causes quite a mess.” His dark eyes lifted to meet hers, and instantly she felt a jolt of awareness course through her body. Why did this man make her so nervous?

She managed a nod.

“I’ll go have a look.” He started out of the room and again she followed him. When they reached the staircase, he stopped. She didn’t and ran into him. He reached out and grabbed her by the arms before she lost her balance. “You better stay down here. These stairs aren’t safe. And until the repairs are done, I don’t want you using them.”

Shelby felt the sudden heat from his gentle touch and lost any desire to argue. Then he turned and continued up the stairs. She watched as he moved with easy athletic grace over the broken steps. Finally he disappeared from view, and she returned to the living room.

Shelby crossed to the mantel and studied the row of pictures. Her family. Uncle Ray and Aunt Celia, along with an assortment of cousins. They were spread all across the country, of course. That way people didn’t ask why they never came to visit. All she had to do was make up stories about them. And she was really good at make-believe—she made a living at it. Shelby drew a long breath and released it. She glanced around the room, feeling a flood of contentment.

She finally had her home. And soon it would be filled with people, and she wouldn’t be all alone anymore.

After checking the attic and the other bedrooms, Rafe wandered into the huge master suite. A mahogany four-poster bed sat against the wall. Heavy brocade draperies hung at the large windows, but were so filthy you couldn’t tell what color they’d once been. The floral wallpaper was faded and had water rings. There was also evidence of some vandalism, broken windows and beer bottles and some writing on the wallpaper. The floors were caked with years of dust

He peeked into the bathroom and saw the oversize claw-foot tub. Upon close examination, he realized it was still in good condition, along with the pedestal sink. The marine-blue marble tile could use a good cleaning and some grouting, but all were easy to repair.

Rafe’s thoughts turned to the woman he’d left downstairs. He normally didn’t stop homeowners from following him around on the job site, but he needed time away from Ms. Harris. Her wide-eyed gaze seemed to watch his every move. He couldn’t decide if it was mistrust or just plain curiosity. But it had bothered him. Damn. He hadn’t felt that awkward around a woman since he’d taken Lisa South-erland to the junior prom. And that was because he had gotten brave enough to try to cop a feel. At seventeen, getting his hands on a girl’s breasts was a major accomplishment.

Once again he recalled Shelby Harris in her T-shirt. She had an unbelievable body. Full breasts, long, shapely legs... Rafe groaned. What was the matter with him? He was acting as if he’d never been around a woman before. But it had been a while since there’d been anyone in his life. Still, he knew better than to think about getting involved with a potential client.