After Midnight Read Online Free PDF

lowered her gaze to the book on her lap. He was right of course. She'd recently had the same discussion with a would-be employer who had wanted her to remove illuminated pages from a fifteenth century book of prayer to sell as framed prints. Needless to say, she'd not taken the position.
    "You're welcome to look at any of the books here. I

know you understand their worth, so you'll take care with them." Gordon stepped over a small box and tugged on a canvas dust cover. "Aha, there she is. I wondered where she'd gotten to."
    Emily stared in wonder as he uncovered a life-size statue of a woman carved from stone. "Greek?" she breathed, feeling again as if she were dreaming. It looked authentic. Could it be?
    "Most likely Macedonian. Found at the bottom of the harbor in Athens about—"
    She raised her palm. "Please don't tell me it was found four hundred years ago."
    "Actually about five hundred," he admitted sheepishly. "I was just beginning to dabble in collecting then."
    She closed the copy of Shakespeare in her lap, exasperated. She really liked Gordon Fraser. Why did he have to be psychotic? "Mr. Fraser—"
    "Please, call me Gordon." He began to recover the statue of the woman, crowned with stone laurel leaves.
    "If we're going to be together for the next month, you might as well call me Emily."
    There was that shy smile. Surely he wasn't flirting with her again? "I should like that Miss… Emily."
    She rose from the crate, setting the books down carefully. "Do you mind if I speak frankly then, Gordon?"
    "Please do."
    She rested her hand on her hips, suddenly feeling silly in Ruth's blue dress, with her hair piled on her head and little pin curls at her temples. Had she really spent an hour readying herself for a day with a man who thought himself a vampire? "Gordon, this vampire… thing." She tucked one of the annoying little curls behind her ear. "You don't really think you're a vampire, do you? Last night's tale… it was just for entertainment. Like telling tales around the fire on cold nights."
    "I was being honest with ye, Emily. I am a vampire."
    The statue covered, he faced her. She had always been such an excellent judge of character. He looked so honorable and forthright. He looked like he believed what he said.
    "You can't be a vampire," she said impatiently.
    He leaned against the Egyptian crate. "Why not?"
    "Well, because… because…" Uncomfortable, she glanced away. Sunlight shone through the room's only window. She looked back at him. "Because vampires can't stand the light."
    He glanced at the arched window, amusement twitching on his sensual lips. "Everyone knows the sun nay really shines in the Highlands, lass," he said with a feigned Scottish brogue to match Angus's.
    She had to admit even a sunny day did seem overcast here in the Highlands. She narrowed her eyes. "Do you sleep in a coffin?" she shot.
    He crossed his arms over his chest and made a ghastly face. "Ods fish, no."
    "See that." She pointed. "Ruth is reading Bram Stoker's
Dracula
. Have you read it? Just published last year. Dracula sleeps in a coffin."
    "Stoker writes romantic fiction." He lifted a slender, masculine finger to point back at her. Their fingertips nearly touched. "Entertaining fiction, but fiction nonetheless."
    Now she was really frustrated. She had been the best debater at her woman's college. Where were those skills now? "The vampire legend was created to frighten people." She folded her arms over her chest triumphantly. "Everyone knows there's really no such thing as vampires."
    "Everyone is wrong."
    Emily threw up her arms. "We're really not making any progress here, Gordon."
    "Emily, I canna change what I am, nor lie about what I am… not even for ye."
    Emily froze as he freed the curl she'd tucked behind her ear. It was a simple gesture, innocent enough, but it made her palms damp, her knees weak, and her heart beat faster.
    "I like the curls," he said softly. "They become your lovely face."
    Emily moistened her dry