Julie's Butterfly Read Online Free PDF

properly with them on.”
    “There’s no need.”
    “But—”
    “Are you done?”
    She narrowed her eyes. “I’ll tell you when I’m done. Now just let me tend to this properly.”
    Bastian watched in fascination as she worked. After cleaning the wound to her satisfaction, she applied some ointment and a compress and, with quick, nimble fingers, wound a gauze bandage around his arm to keep it in place.
    “How come you’re outfitted like a nurse?” he asked.
    “I often look after my nephew. He can be a bit accident-prone.” She held two colorful bandages up for him. “Soccer or dinosaurs?”
    The corners of Bastian’s mouth twitched. “You don’t have astronauts?”
    She grinned. “Sadly, all gone.”
    Julie stuck a dinosaur bandage on the gauze to secure it. “Done.” She stood up.
    “Thanks.”
    “No problem.”
    With a guarded smile, she turned and left the bathroom. Bastian followed her into the living room and looked around with interest.
    At first glance, it looked as though everything in the room had been thrown together without a thought. But the details suggested otherwise. At a round dining table were four mismatched chairs—some upholstered and some not—but each harmonized with the others through recurring ornamentation. The sofa was covered with a huge retro-patterned throw with colors matching the chairs and the pictures on the walls. Even the kitchen nook—deep red and speckled with photos and postcards—reflected her distinctive style.
    Bastian was surprised to find that he liked it. Again he felt an unfamiliar tug of longing, a strange desire to find out more about this woman and her life. It scared him.
    “Coffee?” The guileless gleam in her dark eyes pained him. “Or would you prefer something else?”
    Her voice sounded so hopeful that Bastian was briefly tempted to accept. But where could it possibly lead? Sooner or later, she’d discover the truth about him. Would he be able to bear it when she failed to hide her revulsion, as all the others had?
    Before he even had a chance to turn down her invitation, she took a deep breath and asked, “Why did you do that?”
    “What do you mean?”
    She suddenly looked nervous. “You came to my rescue. But I don’t know why,” she began. “You weren’t particularly chatty this evening. And you made your lack of interest perfectly clear.” She looked at him with a mixture of wounded pride and incomprehension. “And then you suddenly appear, ready to defend me. Not that I didn’t appreciate your heroic gesture. I’m grateful to you for stepping in, but in my experience, there are far easier ways to show a woman that you like her than picking a fight with a crazy drunk.” Her agitation brought a blush to her cheeks. “That is, if you like her.”
    He regarded her silently before answering. “First of all, I don’t like to stand by and watch women being assaulted,” he said. “As for the other thing . . . ,” he began, briefly letting his gaze wander from her dark eyes to her seductive lips. “You’re not my type,” he said tonelessly.
    “Understood,” she said quietly. “Well. Thanks for your help.”
    Julie stared sheepishly at the floor, as though hoping it would open up, swallow her, and rescue her from this embarrassing situation.
    Because there was nothing else he could do, Bastian left without another word.

C HAPTER 5
    Julie finally drifted into a restless sleep late that night. It didn’t last.
    Far too agitated to rest, she found herself staring at her bedroom ceiling, lost in thought. She had painted the walls of her bedroom a cozy shade of green, and a large, colorful abstract painting—a present from Isabelle—hung above the bed. Next to it stood a small bedside table with a dark-green lamp, an alarm clock, a jar of face cream, and a dog-eared copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice , her favorite novel. Dark-brown curtains framed the windows, but as the gray dawn was already breaking, the room