Free There's Something About a Rebel- by Anne Oliver Page A

broken glass.
    ‘Of course I want to save what I can. But it’s probably already ruined with salt and river grime and heaven only knows what else.’ She bit her lip to stifle the sob. It made her want to throw herself into his arms and weep.
    And perhaps, she thought, as she moved directly to the door without waiting, that was his intention.
    Deanna Mayfield was just the sort of woman Lissa imagined Blake would find attractive. Any man would find attractive, actually. As tall as him, silver-blonde hair, trim figure. Even in her grey pin-striped business suit she exuded a sultry kind of glamour.
    If you went for that kind of thing.
    ‘Blake!’ Her smile was pure toothpaste advertisement. She ushered them into her office. ‘What a pleasant surprise to get your call.’
    Ms Mayfield and smartly dressed Blake looked like an ideal couple as they reminiscedabout a past Lissa had no part in. Had they ever been lovers? She couldn’t help thinking of the bad-boy reputation. Yep, she thought, Ms Mayfield would definitely go for bad boys.
    Even when they eventually got down to business it was there. That … something. While Lissa sat within arm’s reach feeling out of the loop, uninvolved and insignificant.
    ‘We’ll need a signature here.’ Leaning over the desk, Deanna flicked her hair and indicated with a passion-purple fingertip, then passed Blake her pen.
    Lissa’s lip curled, then she pressed a hand to the tender spot just beneath her breastbone while Blake signed and passed the pen back. With a smile. The knot was hunger, not jealousy. Good heavens, she couldn’t begin to imagine how many women Blake would have been with over the years, no doubt all as glamorous as Miss Sunshine here.
    Then Deanna smiled at Lissa as if suddenly remembering she was there and handed her the pen. ‘Melissa. Your turn, sweetie.’
    Sweetie.
Condescending cow. Lissa stretched her lips into a smile over her clenched teeth as she took the pen and signed.
    Blake dropped her at the Sunshine Plaza with her new personal debit card. The arrangement was that she should catch a cab to the address onthe card he’d given her when she was done and they’d meet at five-thirty.
    She headed into the mall to buy her blues away. She refused to get carried away however, knowing she needed to repay whatever she bought at a future date. Sticking to basics, she purchased underwear, toiletries, casual wear, a couple of business suits and skirts and a cream jacket. and, of course, the obligatory little short black dress.
    She couldn’t resist a tiny bottle of her favourite perfume and a couple of CDs—for therapeutic reasons. At an art shop she bought a new sketch pad, charcoals and pencils so that if she arrived at the premises before Blake she could keep busy. If she was busy she wouldn’t think about the boat.
    Fighting the dull pain that had been throbbing away at the back of his skull for the past couple of hours, Blake walked towards the shop. Standing across the road, he watched the lowering sun paint the upper half of the unique building a burnt orange. When he’d bought it, he’d been impressed right off with its central location—near other businesses but not overcrowded—and the interesting canted windows out front. Dodging a steady stream of slow-moving traffic, he let himself in with a takeaway meal, drinks and cutlery in a cardboard box.
    The empty interior still blew him away.A gleaming expanse of polished floorboards flowed like a golden lake to cream walls on all sides. But the feature that really sold it for him was the main source of illumination. Two metal wheel-like structures a good couple of metres in diameter studded with down-lights and suspended at an oblique angle to each other and to the floor.
    The building had a vaulted wooden ceiling and odd-shaped windows. Their topaz and sapphire glass threw out a rich palette of colours, glinting on the brass rail of the spiral staircase to one side, which led to a mezzanine level,