Dreamscape Read Online Free PDF Page B

tepid bath.
    And so it went for several days. The ghost of Jason Bowen dogged her every step and fed his nightly compulsion to touch her warm skin while she slept.
    Feeling somewhat guilty for using his particular advantage as a spirit, he resolved not to repeat the inappropriate intimacy he’d subjected her to that first night in his bed. But he did surrender to a lesser debauchery—the urge to feel her living warmth. After the first contact with her skin, he could no more help himself from running his hands over her body from shoulder to knee than he could cease haunting his house. He hoped she found his touch as soothing to her body as he found touching her soothing to his soul.
    Lanie’s dreams took on a surreal quality like never before. Interacting with the house and grounds, her nightly excursions became as real as her days. She searched for the dark-haired man with eyes the color of aged whiskey. She’d been dreaming of him since she’d turned eighteen. This was the man she longed to see each time she closed her eyes to sleep.

 
    Chapter 5
    “Lanie?”
    “I’m in the dining room, Ben.”
    He found her behind a mountain of folded linens. “Oh boy, you’ve been busy today. I see Al finally got the new washer and dryer in.”
    Adding another folded pillowcase to the neatly embroidered stack, Lanie asked happily, “What tipped you off, the fabric softener wafting through the house or the added heat from the dryer?”
    He chuckled. “Both, actually.” In short order spring had turned into summer and added heat and humidity to everything they did. Just looking at her flushed cheeks, he could tell this monumental task was taking the wind out of her sails, and it was only nine o’clock in the morning.
    “Al surprised me by coming over yesterday to hook them up.”
    He wasn’t surprised. His little brother was sweet on her.
    Lanie pushed a damp lock of hair from her eyes with the back of her hand. All the linens were washed—no small task that. Seven bedrooms and five cupboards with their seven mountains of blankets and sheets had her washing and drying for two days. A full third of it was being donated to charity. She turned and saw the three large flat boxes he set on the table.
    “What are those?”
    “I’ve a present for you, kiddo.” He lifted the lid off one and showed her the washed and starched doilies. “I thought you could dress up this plain décor you got goin’.”
    With its over-abundance of gingerbread and hand-painted walls, the décor in her Victorian mansion could hardly be called plain. Lanie laughed. “This was so nice of Janice to do. I don’t know the first thing about doily care.” She lifted a few up. Fully starched, they were as stiff as the proverbial board. “They look so much better.” Choosing three of the nicest, she said, “Do you think Janice would like to have these? As her thank-you?”
    “She’s gonna love ’em. So Kenny tells me you have a little request?”
    She gave him her brightest smile. “How’d you like to hang a clothesline for me?”
    “Funny you should ask. I was going to as you if you’d like me to restring the pulleys off the back porch today.”
    “Great minds think alike!” they said at once.
    * * * *
    The day had gone pretty much as the day before and the day before that. By the end of her third week there the house was coming along splendidly. Finally, his other commitments winding down to completion, Ben’s oldest brother, Zack the contactor, had come. After the walkthrough, he determined work on the carriage house would begin the following Thursday as rain was expected early in the week.
    Though the hard-packed dirt cellar remained untouched, the livable parts of the house were shining from top to bottom with only servant’s quarters and the topmost bedrooms left to see to. The wood paneling had been polished with lemon oil, the draperies re-hung after their return from the dry cleaner, and the oriental carpets and assorted