Ashleigh realised with a little jolt that she had never seen a picture of either of his parents, had never even been informed of their Christian names.
She thought of the stack of family albums her mother had lovingly put together. Every detail of family life was framed with openly adoring comments. There were shiny locks of hair and even tiny pearly baby teeth.
What had Jake’s parents looked like? She hadn’t a clue and yet their blood was surging through her son’s veins.
‘I’m sorry I’m so late,’ Jake said from just behind her.
Ashleigh swung around, surprise beating its startled wings inside her chest. ‘I wish you would stop doing that,’ she said, clutching at her leaping throat.
‘Do what?’ He looked at her blankly.
She lowered her hand and gave herself a mental shake. ‘You should announce your arrival a bit more audibly. I hate being sneaked up on like that.’
‘I did not sneak up on you,’ he said. ‘I called out to you three times but you didn’t answer.’
She bit her lip, wondering if what he said was true. It was certainly possible given that her thoughts had been located well in the past, but it still made her feel uncomfortable that he could slip through her firewall of defences undetected.
She put the cup she’d been holding down and turned away from his probing gaze. ‘I’ve almost finished assessing one room.’
‘And?’
Her eyes reluctantly came back to his. ‘Your father certainly knew what he was doing when it came to collecting antiques.’
He gave a humourless smile. ‘My father was an expert at many things.’
Again she sensed the wealth of information behind the coolly delivered statement.
‘Would it help to…to talk about it?’ she asked, somewhat tentatively.
His eyes hardened beneath his frowning brow. ‘About what?’
‘About your childhood.’
He swung away from her as if she’d slapped him. ‘No, not right now.’
She bit her lip, not sure if she should push him. A part of her wanted to. She ached to know what had made him the man he was, but another part of her warned her to let well alone. His barriers were up again. She could see it in the tense line of his jaw and the way his eyes moved away from hers as if he was determined to shut her out.
‘Which room would you like me to work on next?’ She opted for a complete change of subject.
He gave a dismissive shrug and shoved at a dirty plate on the work table in front of him as if it had personally offended him.
‘I don’t care. You choose.’
‘Which room was your bedroom?’ she asked before she could stop herself.
She saw the way his shoulders stiffened, the rigidity of his stance warning her she had come just a little too close for comfort.
‘I don’t want you to go in there,’ he said. ‘The door is locked and it will stay that way. Understood?’
She forced herself to hold his glittering glare. ‘If that’s what you want.’
He gave her one diamond-hard look and moved past her to leave the room. ‘I will be in the back garden. I have some digging to do.’
She sighed as the door snapped shut behind him.
What had she taken on?
It was well after three p.m. when she decided she needed a break. She had nibbled on a few crackers she’d brought with her and had a glass of water earlier, but her eyes were watering from all the dust she’d disturbed as she itemised the contents of the largest formal room.
She went out the back door, her eyes automatically searching the garden for Jake as she sat down on one of the steps, stretching her legs out to catch the sun.
He was down in the far corner, his back and chest bare as he dug up the ground beneath the shade of the elm tree. She saw the way his toned muscles bunched with each strike of the spade in the resisting earth, the fine layer of perspiration making his skin gleam in the warm spring sunshine.
He stopped and, leaning on the spade, wiped a hand across his sweaty brow, his eyes suddenly catching sight of her watching him.
He straightened and, stabbing the spade into the ground, walked towards her, wiping his hands on the sides of his jeans.
From her seated position on the back step she had to crane her neck to look up at him. ‘That looks like hard work,’ she said. ‘Do you want me to get you a glass of water?’
He shook his head. ‘I drank from the tap a while ago.’
She lowered her gaze, then wished she hadn’t as she encountered the zipper of his jeans. She jerked upright off the step but her sandal caught in the old wire shoe-scraper and she pitched forwards.
Jake caught her easily, hauling her upright, his hands on her upper arms almost painfully firm.