Читать книгу His Sleeping Beauty - Carol Grace, Carol Grace - Страница 8

Standing on his flagstone patio some time after midnight, Max Monroe almost missed seeing the mysterious figure dressed in white at his back fence. He stubbed out his cigar and took a few steps forward. There she was under the trees. Then she was gone. He shook his head. Real, or an illusion? He’d had wine with dinner, but not enough to bring on hallucinations. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he felt a cool breeze on his arms. Who was it? What was it?

It certainly wasn’t his neighbor Mary, a petite, silver-haired, lively older lady who lived next door was away on a Caribbean cruise. He’d been told that her niece was going to be house-sitting and by the way, if he wouldn’t mind looking in on her once or twice, Mary would be very grateful.

He owed it to Mary. She’d been more than helpful when he was moving in, letting the phone men into his house to set up his Internet connection, recommending gardeners and a cleaning crew.

According to Mary, her niece, Sarah, was too quiet, too shy and too studious. She was liable to stay indoors too much and keep to herself. Sarah needed a nudge to get out and smell the roses, which by the way, grew in abundance behind Mary’s house. Not the type of woman he’d be interested in getting to know, but still, what could he say?

Eager to make friends in the neighborhood and to repay his neighbor for her generosity, Max promised to look in on Sarah, though he doubted he could lure her out of her shell, if she was really as shy as her aunt said. When he’d seen a strange VW Bug in the driveway this afternoon, he’d phoned the house and knocked on her door, but no one answered. She had to be there so why didn’t she come to the door? Nobody’s that shy. But, what the hell, he’d tried, and he’d done his job.

Max took a sip of coffee from his mug while he watched and waited for the vision to appear again. If it really was a person. If he’d really seen anything at all. In the meantime, he surveyed his landscaped yard illuminated by the silvery moonlight, and his rock-rimmed lighted pool with pride of ownership. His new home was more than a house. It was a symbol that he’d arrived. The poverty of his childhood, the apartments he’d lived in, one after another, were finally all in the past. This place was his, all his. The next day he was having his first party there.

Aha, there it was again, the flutter of white shimmering in the moonlight. This time he was going to get to the bottom of this mystery and find out who it was. He set his coffee cup down and strode across the damp lawn until he stopped suddenly and stared.

There under the fragrant eucalyptus trees was a woman in a white gown only ten feet away from him. Her dark hair was tousled by the breeze, her sheer gown billowed, giving her an ethereal look. Under the gown he could make out the outline of her breasts and hips. His body reacted as if he’d been given a shot of adrenaline and he felt a sharp quickening of his senses. Not that he was gawking, but he was human, wasn’t he?

She was slender, this vision, but had curves in all the right places. He tilted his head and watched as she moved a little closer. Who was this ghostly creature? As he stood there, she bent over and picked up a handful of eucalyptus nuts.

“Hello?” he said.

She murmured something and looked past him as if he wasn’t there. It couldn’t be Mary’s niece, the woman who had to be coaxed outside, could it? Maybe she was sleepwalking and didn’t know she was outside. Thank God he’d put a fence around the pool.

He’d seen a picture of her and this woman looked nothing like Mary’s neice. In the photograph a serious bespectacled woman in cap and gown posed with fellow graduates on a college campus. This lovely creature was the complete opposite—so mysterious and romantic that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

He took her arm. She frowned and shook it off. He wasn’t discouraged. He put his arm firmly around her shoulder and gently turned her toward her house. She continued to clutch the nuts in her hand, but she didn’t resist. He murmured what he hoped were soothing words, but she didn’t appear to be listening.

So he guided her into the house and up the stairs, clumsily bumping against the polished railing on one side and her hip on the other. The first bedroom door was open and a bed was so rumpled, it looked as if it had been slept in by someone who’d been tossing and turning.

“Is this it?” he said more to himself than to her. She didn’t answer. He didn’t expect her to, but she headed straight for the bed, as if on autopilot, put the eucalyptus nuts on the bedside table, then lay down, put her head on the pillow and closed her eyes.

He stood there for a long moment wondering what to do. Did sleepwalkers walk more than once a night? If so, should he lock her in or post himself at the door downstairs? He stared down at her pale, heart-shaped face, at the dark hair that was spread out on the pillow and felt totally bewildered. It didn’t make sense. How could the shy, introverted woman he’d heard about have turned into an enchantress? He should really leave. Go out and lock the door behind him and check on her tomorrow.

Instead he just stood there, wondering if, like Sleeping Beauty, it would take a kiss to wake her. If it did, and she was startled, she might jump up and whack him over the head with that vase of flowers on the dresser. What did he have to lose? A lump on the head. An embarrassing explanation. He’d always been a risk-taker. So he leaned over and brushed his lips against hers. Soft, full lips. Tempting lips.

Instead of claiming another kiss, which was what he wanted to do, he decided not to press his luck and reluctantly drew back. She didn’t wake up. She didn’t leap up and smack him. She smiled. That was it. Just a smile. But what a sleepy, sexy smile it was.

Was she dreaming? Or was he? Did she know what had happened? Would she remember this tomorrow? Should he inform her? Was he crazy? He pulled a blanket up to her shoulders and ran his fingers over her bare shoulder where her nightgown had slipped down.

Tomorrow he’d have to alert Sleeping Beauty that, in case she didn’t know it, she had a problem. Or rather, if she kept coming to his place in the middle of the night, they had a problem.

He had no intention of getting involved with a woman, any woman, no matter how beautiful or romantic. Especially if she really was Mary’s niece. He could foresee acres of complications around the corner. But there could be nothing wrong with making a neighborly call on her. In fact, that’s what he’d intended to do all along. It’s what Mary had asked him to do.

But as he walked quietly down the carpeted stairs, he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone. There was something about the woman that intrigued him. That made him want to find out what made her tick. Or to be more precise, what made her walk into his yard at night and collect eucalyptus nuts while sound asleep. It could be just her looks that attracted him, but he’d met dozens of beautiful women and had carefully kept them at arm’s length—at least emotionally—which was where they belonged. He usually didn’t pursue women, figuring they weren’t worth the time and effort. And when they pursued him, he’d eventually ended things. Which was exactly what he’d probably do with this one, if…if it came to that. Which it wouldn’t, because in the morning the mystery would be over. Tonight she’d stepped out of a dream and into his backyard. But tomorrow, he’d find out she was an ordinary woman and that would be the end of it. Wouldn’t it?