She stopped to watch him at work. He was on a scaffold partway up the wall.
He hadn’t spotted her there.
She loved watching him at work as he painted the wall.
Then, however, there was a slight accident. She was looking up and suddenly flinched as she saw him drop one of his paintbrushes.
It didn’t hit her but landed on the ground next to her. A slight bit of paint splashed up onto her leg.
The man looked down and saw her.
"Oh my god," he called down, "I’m so sorry! I didn’t hit you with that, did I?"
"No, no, don’t worry! You missed! I just got a bit of a splash of paint on my leg."
"Oh, hang on, I’ll be right down."
The man moved over to the ladder and scrambled down it quickly and confidently. She watched the ease with which he moved. He hit the floor and she finally got a proper look at him. She liked what she saw. He was a good-looking guy. She would have guessed that he was about forty years old.
He was tall with an athletic build - straight-backed, broad-shouldered, with a deep tan that looked as though it was the result of plenty of ti spent outside. His hair was a sandy-blonde and ca down just below his ears. There were a few flecks of gray in it.
His eyes were a dark green.
"Hi there," he said, looking her up and down. She blushed slightly at the attention, "Once again, I’m very sorry about that."
"It’s fine, really."
"Very clumsy of , though. I’m Adam, by the way."
"Emma."
"Pleased to et you, Emma. Now, let’s see what the damage is, shall we?"
It took her a mont to understand what he ant, but then she turned and showed him her leg, showing the spot where the paint had hit her.
"Oh, dear," he said, sounding concerned, "What a sha to make such a ss of such beautiful legs. Well, you can’t just walk around like that, can you? How about we get you cleaned up."
"Oh, that’s very kind of you but I don’t want to be any trouble, honestly." "No trouble at all, I assure you. This is actually my house."
"Oh?"
"Oh, yes. I don’t just go around painting random houses, you know." She smiled.
"Sure," she said, "Why not, right?"
"Excellent."
He led her into his house. It was just what she would have expected from an artist’s house - cluttered and filled with fascinating objects.
She felt as though she could have spent an entire day in there just looking through things and marveling at everything in there.
"Co on," Adam said, "Let’s go through to the kitchen."
She followed him through and sat down on the chair that he offered.
"This is a nice place," she said, looking around at the spacious kitchen, "must be pretty expensive."
"Oh, it is. I don’t live here on my own, though. I’ve got a housemate. He’s out at the mont but he’ll be back later, I’m sure."
"Ah, I see."
She saw him take a rag from a bowl next to the sink. He ran it under the tap. She was about to hold her hand out to him to take it so that she could clean her leg but was slightly surprised to see him get down on his knees in front of her.
She looked down at him, waiting to see what he was going to do next.
He took hold of one of her ankles. His touch felt sohow intimate. She wondered for a mont then if anyone had held her there before.
He did it so casually. Did he know that he was the first to do that? How could he, really?
He smiled up at her. Then she shivered slightly as she felt the cold water on her leg.
He used light pressure on her as he cleaned her leg. Even this was sohow intimate, having this man on his knees in front of her, cleaning her like this.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him. "There you go," he said, "all done."
He was still on his knees. He looked up at her. Their eyes t and she felt sure that sothing was about to happen - if only she knew what it was. She could sense it in the air - an atmosphere.
Adam took hold of her ankle again. He raised her leg slightly.
"All clean now," he murmured softly. Then he did sothing that she hadn’t expected. He leaned forward and kissed her leg where he had just cleaned it. She felt her heart beat just a little bit faster. She looked down at him and was entranced.
He wasn’t like the other guys that she had t. He didn’t seem to just want to get her into bed. He seed to have so kind of innate understanding of her body - how it really worked, what she really wanted. He was in no hurry here.
She felt a tingle on her skin when he did that. She couldn’t quite believe that this was happening, and she couldn’t wait to see what he was going to do next.
He was still holding her ankle. Then he leaned further up her leg and kissed her knee. The lower part of her dress had fallen away, exposing more of her leg.
Then he kissed the outer part of one of her thighs.
A part of her thought that she should tell him to stop what he was doing, but another part of her suppressed the cautious part of her brain and told it to be quiet. She sat back to watch what he was going to do.
He let go of her ankle and got to his feet.
She looked at him, startled. For a mont she wondered if the mont was passed if the mood was broken. She had felt as though sothing was really building then, and now it was as though he had stepped away from her and ended it.
But then he took hold of both of her hands in his. He pulled her to her feet.
"What do you say?" he asked her, still holding her hands. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say. All that she could do was look at him and wait to see what he would say or do next.
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