Her Wicked Heart Read Online Free PDF

too.”
    So now somehow I’m responsible for this mess? That plastic-wrap-across-the-toilet-seat thing is looking better and better by the minute. I wonder if I might be able to swipe some from the kitchen.
    But I put on my Louisa Cunningham smile and nod.
    “I’ll do everything I can,” I say. “I’ll need them to send up someone to fix this window, though.”
    “I’ll put the call through,” he says. “Though I don’t even want to think about what else will suffer because of this.”
    And with that, he turns and follows everyone else out of the room, leaving me alone with the mess.
    I sigh. Might as well get to work.
    For the first time, I take a good look around the room. This was once my family’s summer parlor. The large windows along the eastern wall let in lots of natural light this time of the year. Now, though?
    Oh, God , I realize. It’s the freaking gift shop.
    Technically, they’re calling it the “Welcome Center.” Apparently they think that makes it sound classier. And yes, there’s an information desk on the far side of the room that will be stocked with brochures and maps and helpful, smiling employees at all times. But there’s nothing classy about the brightly colored Huntington Manor merchandise scattered all over the room.
    I walk over to one of the toppled tables. T-shirts of every color lie in piles on the floor, and I reach down and hold one up. It’s neon green and has a stylized image of the house embroidered in purple thread on the front. The words “Huntington Manor” are stitched in cursive below. I drop it back in the pile. A couple of feet away, a mannequin lies in pieces. I bend over and hoist it upright again. It’s wearing one of the T-shirts and a pair of jeans with “Huntington Manor” sewn in metallic thread on the back pockets.
    Seriously? This place has branded jeans ?
    I look around. I might as well be at Disney World. There are Huntington Manor hats, tote bags, shot glasses, even Christmas ornaments. I even spot a “Kids Corner” with stuffed horses and Huntington Manor coloring books.
    Rage boils up inside of me. I can’t be in here. I can’t look at all of this.
    What did you expect? a little voice in my head says. They’re wringing all the money out of this place that they can. Of course they’re going to sell merchandise .
    In the end, I decide to do some vacuuming first. There are a few members of the housekeeping staff already on duty, but I’m willing to do anything to put off dealing with the Huntington Manor Collection of Souvenir Crap. A few minutes later, I’m sucking up shards of glass and wood splinters out of the carpet and ignoring the T-shirts like the plague.
    Look at the bright side , I tell myself. At least you won’t have to worry about running into Mr. Hunky Handyman anymore.
    Even now, blood rushes to my cheeks at the thought of how I behaved with him. It was crazy, kissing that man. Reckless. Stupid.
    Delicious , whispers that voice in my mind.
    I run my tongue across my top lip, then immediately shake my head, trying to chase away the lusty thoughts that have suddenly filled my mind. The last thing I should be doing right now is indulging in dirty daydreams. I’m not supposed to be thinking about men. Period.
    I manage to rein in my imagination for the better part of the morning, and I end up getting a decent amount of work done. After my lunch break, however, when I’ve done every other task I can think of, I’m forced to acknowledge that it’s finally time to suck it up and start working on the piles of merchandise.
    I consider going all in and diving right into the T-shirts, but I decide it’s better to start with something a little safer. Something that isn’t going to bring my lunch right back up. Like… books. An entire bookshelf got knocked over in the scuffle, and the volumes are scattered across the floor. Books aren’t obnoxious like neon clothing and key chains, right?
    Wrong.
    The first few titles I sift through