He was stretching and he turned to her with his arms above his head.
Maggie took a strange little breath as the full impact of his beautiful physique hit her.
‘Climbing?’ he said.
‘I used to do gymnastics, seriously, and I’ve done an abseiling course. I’m not afraid of heights and I have good balance.’ She looked upwards. ‘I wouldn’t have any trouble balancing on those beams.’
He studied her thoughtfully, then stared around. ‘If I got onto the roof of the car and you got onto my shoulders, you might just reach a beam.’
Maggie sat up. ‘Yes!’ She subsided. ‘But what to use to attack the roof with?’ she asked whimsically.
The toolbox he’d got the saw out of was lying on the floor next to the table. He bent over and pulled out a short chrome bar. ‘Heaven alone knows what this is for, but it might do, although—’ he grimaced ‘—whether you’d have the strength—’
She cast aside the blanket and got up. ‘I could try!’
He hesitated a moment longer, then shrugged. ‘We’ll give it a go.’
Five minutes later they were both on the roof of the car.
‘Just as well they built them solidly in those days,’ he commented with a fleeting grin, and squinted upwards. ‘OK, here’s what we’ll do.’
He had both halves of the blanket. ‘I’m going to try and throw these over the beam. That should give you something to work with. Look—’ he stripped off his shirt ‘—take this up with you. Once you get up there, if you do, you’ll need as much protection from splinters as you can get and I’ll also tie the bar into one sleeve. You sit down while I throw.’
This time she did say it— ‘Yes, sir!’—but good-naturedly and even with something akin to excitement in her voice.
He looked down at her. ‘You’re a strange girl, Maggie Trent.’
‘I know,’ she agreed.
He opened his mouth as if to say more as they gazed at each other, but changed his mind.
Maggie sat down cross-legged and tied his shirt around her waist. It took him several attempts, but he finally got both bits of blanket dangling over the beam.
‘Now for the tricky bit.’ He knelt down. ‘Climb onto my shoulders. Don’t worry, I won’t drop you and I won’t fall myself—I also have good balance.’
‘Are you a gymnast too?’ Maggie asked.
‘No, but I did some martial arts training in my misguided youth.’
Maggie climbed onto his shoulders. ‘Well, I’m happy to know I wasn’t completely wrong about you.’
‘Oh?’
‘I took you for a much more physical guy who’d prefer to be climbing Mount Everest rather than building housing estates.’
‘Really.’ He grinned. ‘That should provide an interesting discussion at another time. Are you comfortable, Miss Trent? If at any stage you would rather not be doing this, for heaven’s sake tell me. I won’t hold it against you and we can all be wrong at times.’
Maggie looked down at the top of his head and placed her hands lightly upon it. ‘Up you get—I was going to say Samson, but your hair’s not long enough. I’m fine.’
‘Here’s hoping you don’t have any Delilah tendencies,’ he commented wryly and brought his hands up to wrap them around her waist. ‘Here goes.’
He got to his feet slowly and steadily. At no time did Maggie feel insecure and at all times she had to appreciate his strength and co-ordination.
When he was upright, she carefully lifted her hands until she was able to grasp the blankets.
‘All right?’ he queried, his breath rasping in his throat.
‘I’ve got them.’ She tied the ends together and wrapped her hands in them. ‘If I could stand up, I could reach the beam. It would be just above waist- height and easier to vault onto. I’d also have the blanket as a sort of safety strap.’
‘Are you very sure, Maggie?’
‘Yep. Can you handle it, though?’
‘No problem. Easy does it.’
Putting her weight on the blankets, Maggie levered herself up onto her feet. ‘I’m not hurting you, am I?’ she asked anxiously as she felt his hands close round her ankles.