All About Charming Alice Read Online Free PDF Page A

I’m a vegetarian.” She hoped that would conjure up a picture of over-boiled carrots, tasteless, mushy peas and gluey cauliflower. “No three inch steaks at my house.”
    “Sounds fine.”
    She could tell he was forcing himself to sound enthusiastic. “You look like a carnivore to me, not a vegetarian.” Carnivorous, a woman-eater.
    “I’m willing to try anything,” he said, with more enthusiasm than he was probably feeling. “I don’t know much about being a vegetarian.”
    Now she really was defeated. She knew it. She knew he knew it.
    “Do I get to come in now?”
    “There are millions of dogs and tons of dog hair.”
    “And?”
    She sighed, shook her head, and shrugged. “Other things that might be a shock to your system. As a frustrated guinea pig owner, I mean.” Then there was no way she could control her wicked grin.
    Their eyes met and she felt absolutely no hostility, no mockery. Instead, there was a probing intensity, a certain tension that bespoke returned interest, appreciation, and warmth. Much warmth. Much appreciation.
    “What other things?” he teased. “Ghosts? Ghouls?”
    “Nothing so comfortable.” She smiled wickedly. “Snakes.”
    “Snakes? Fine.”
    Okay, she saw he didn’t believe her. He thought she was just thinking up a few more excuses. But he’d find out the truth soon enough. Fine, he’d said? We’ll see.
    Squaring her shoulders, she turned and led the way into the dark interior of the house.
    He followed her down the narrow corridor and she could feel his eyes burning into her back, taking in her long, rangy stride and slender legs. The tension was almost unbearable; the
whole situation
was unbearable, she thought. This couldn’t be happening. How could she have let him into her refuge like this?
    She opened the kitchen door at the end of the corridor, and heard Jace whistle with surprise.
    “You never begin to know a person until you see the inside of their home,” he mused. “I certainly didn’t expect anything like this out in the desert.”
    Alice felt proud: he was able to see the beauty of the old house, after all. This kitchen was vast, with a yellowish hue only time could bring; filling it was a chaotic assortment of ancient wood burning stoves, heavy wooden tables, rustic chairs, old glass bottles, vast cupboards, green plants. And everything was illuminated by the stark desert light gleaming through the wooden frame windows.
    “It’s like stepping into a museum!”
    Alice shrugged. “For a very good reason. My great-grandfather built the place. When my grandfather took it over, he added on. Then everyone else added on to that. No one in the family threw anything out. They just extended the walls.”
    “And you keep it in the same way?”
    Her faint smile was wry. “I guess I’ve inherited the pack rat genes. In any case, how could I get rid of anything? I love every single stick of furniture, every crock.”
    A narrow, wooden staircase in the hallway twisted up to a low-ceilinged second floor. Alice climbed ahead of him. Then stopped. “This would be your room.” She sounded unsure.
    Jace stepped through the doorway and stared with amazement. “I hoped I’d find something different from an impersonal motel room, but I wasn’t prepared for this.”
    The slightly uneven floor of wide wooden planks had been waxed and worn to a mirror-like shine. A large four-poster bed was covered with a heavy patchwork quilt, as authentic as the rag rug on the floor, the faded flower print paper on the walls. A beautiful blue vase gleamed on an ancient, simply made wooden dresser; a faint hint of lavender danced on the air.
    “It’s wonderful,” Jace murmured. “Out of date, far from reality. It’s what decorators fight to achieve and can’t. This is the real thing.” His eyes came to rest on her. “Naturally beautiful.”
    Alice felt doubt. He’d win top marks for flattery, probably always did. That was his style, wasn’t it? “If you really think