Do Not Disturb Read Online Free PDF Page B

her chin, she matched him stare for assessing stare. “I’m Angel. Angel Buchanan.”
    Shit. A magical creature, all right. An angel .
    For a weird instant he wondered if he’d actually died this time. But then he sucked in a breath of air, inhaling a heady shot of her perfume with it. The sophisticated fragrance sparked the memory of her skin beneath his hand—his palm actually tingled—and he decided it was a safe bet that his first thought in heaven wouldn’t be about stripping naked one of its winged residents.
    Then she smiled at him, and it was so sweet that hethought angel again until he caught the amused glitter in her eyes.
    â€œAnd,” she added, all moonbeams and sugary whipped cream innocence, “I’m also the woman who’s going to be living with you for the next few weeks.”

Chapter 3
    Angel thought Cooper Jones was about to have a heart attack. For a moment he stood stock-still, the wind blowing his hair and clothes around him. But then he blinked—without his sunglasses she could see his eyes were greenish brown—and he seemed to recover from his surprise. “You’re staying…?” he began.
    â€œAt your inn,” Angel finished for him. Brother Charles was an easy man to pump for data, and it had taken her all of three seconds to find out that the Jones siblings had grown up in the area and that Cooper ran the place where she’d be staying. It hadn’t been a good omen, but Angel refused to let omens, or any men, for that matter, get in the way of her plans.
    â€œMy inn,” Cooper said slowly.
    â€œYeah,” she said. “Tranquility House.”
    A pretty corny name if you asked her, but it didn’t burst her happy daydreams of salt scrub pedicures andherbal oil massages unless—Oh, God. Unless Cooper Jones gave them, that is.
    At the thought, she instinctively scooted a more cautious distance away. When he’d touched her shoulder before, she’d nearly jumped out of her skin.
    â€œSo you’re staying at Tranquility,” he repeated. The wind shifted, blowing his hair back from his face. “Exactly why is that?”
    Without the disguise of sunglasses or disordered hair, Angel saw that his face was lean like the rest of him. With his slashing dark brows, high cheekbones, and patrician nose, he looked like an Italian nobleman. An arrogant, suspicious, and…somehow familiar nobleman.
    â€œAngel?”
    Why, she remembered. He wanted to know why she was staying. Distracted by that odd feeling of recognition, Angel fumbled for a good answer, couldn’t quite think of one, had to stall. She gave him one of her best smiles. “Why, uh, why not?”
    His eyes narrowed, turning even more watchful.
    Oh, sheesh. Her smiles didn’t work on him, she had to remember that. So then how was she supposed to play this guy? Men never distrusted her. Usually her hair, a sweet smile, certainly a combination of the two did the job. Her baby face and mop top seemed to make men feel studly, or at the very least it rendered them unsuspecting.
    But not this one.
    Angel glanced toward Brother Charles, hoping for rescue, but the man of the robe had inconveniently wandered off. Her attention was forced back to Cooper, who was still eyeing her expectantly.
    â€œLook,” she said, frustrated. She hadn’t planned on getting into this here and now, but she was fresh out of tricks. “I’m a writer, okay? For a magazine.”
    â€œA reporter?” His voiced lowered. “No wonder you give me the heebie-jeebies,” she thought she heard him mutter.
    The heebie-jeebies? Well, that wasn’t a good sign either. In general, people were fascinated by the press—unless they had something to hide, of course. But what would an inn manager want to conceal?
    Then a likely answer struck. “Oh, hey, don’t worry,” she said, waving away any concerns he might have. “I’m