Body Heat Read Online Free Page A

“How do you spell japonica?”
    When he didn’t answer, she glanced up.
    He was frowning at her.
    She glared back. So she didn’t know how to spell the name of some exotic plant. It didn’t mean she was stupid.
    “The way it sounds,” he said.
    “Oh. And the flowering trees are cherry, right?”
    “Yup.”
    She wrote it down. He might be too darned sexy for her peace of mind and purely frustrating to communicate with, but maybe they’d get a nice garden out of this arrangement. “You know a fair bit about this.”
    He shrugged. “I work construction. See a lot of gardens go in. I’ve helped out on some jobs.”
    “How long will it take?”
    “Dunno.”
    Annoyed, she clicked the top on her pen. “Can you give me an estimate?”
    “Dunno until I start. See what the soil’s like. Guess my estimate would be two, three days.”
    “That’s all? And you’re here today, then . . .” How many days of community service was he required to put in? She longed for Louise’s file.
    “Yeah, tomorrow, too. Weekends, and some weekday evenings. But not Mondays or Fridays.”
    She noted that down. What did he do on Monday and Friday nights? A standing date with a special girlfriend? No, this man wasn’t likely to have just one name in his little black book or little black BlackBerry, or wherever else he kept such information. He had a definite “play the field” look, and she was darned sure he had no trouble finding women. Women who lacked refinement and taste, of course. Women who just wanted a gorgeous male animal to get naked with and—
    “You got a problem with that?” he asked.
    Aagh again! Where were these ridiculous thoughts coming from? Turning thirty must have had a bizarre effect on her hormones. She clicked her pen again. “No, those times will be fine. Start on the garden this weekend, and if it takes longer than that, you can finish during the evenings next week.” By then she’d have read his file, know how long he’d be working at Cherry Lane, and have figured out what other tasks were safe to assign him. She’d have a plan. Maura peeled off her glasses.
    “ ’Kay.” He moved restlessly, as if he’d stood too long in one spot. “Need to buy the stuff. Gotta borrow a car. You got an account somewhere, or you going to give me cash?”
    In your dreams, Mr. Blue. Sure, she was going to hand over car keys and cash to a criminal. She heaved an exasperated sigh. “I’ll drive you.”
    He looked her up and down in that cheeky way he had. “I figured.”
    Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t keen to get into a car with him. Not until she’d read his file, seen him work. Decided if she could feel safe with him.
    She glanced up at all of that smoldering male sexuality and realized that “safe” wasn’t a word she’d likely ever use with reference to Jesse Blue. But at least she wanted to reassure herself he wasn’t likely to do anything violent. Or start using—or even dealing—drugs. Or steal her car. “Not today,” she said abruptly.
    Great, now what was she going to do? Did Cherry Lane own any garden tools? If not, there was a home supply store in the mall across the street. “Stay here,” she ordered.
    She left him in the courtyard, locking the door from the inside, and hurried to the reception desk. Gracie beamed excitedly at her, but Maura spoke first. “We’ve got a sprinkler, don’t we? And some garden tools? Any idea where they might be?”
    “Maybe the janitor’s storage room? But wow, isn’t that guy a total hottie?”
    She frowned discouragingly. “I’ll check the storage room.”
    There, in a back corner, she found a dusty sprinkler attached to a knotted hose, plus—thank God—a collection of dirt-encrusted tools.
    She tucked her pad and pen into her pocket alongside her glasses and picked up the sprinkler and hose. Holding them at arm’s length, she hurried back, and Gracie jumped up to open the courtyard door for her.
    “Ooh, would you just look at