Kestrel (Hart Briothers #3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

lock
box on it yet. As I said, I know this is very sudden, but this potential buyer could
be a perfect match.”
    My
heart falls. Oh, God. Not today.
    “Okay.
When?” I stammer.
    “Today.”
    “Um,
well, I’m at work and can’t leave.”
    “Dr.
Drayton, that’s fine. The interested party can’t be there until five-thirty. Is
that okay?”
    No, that’s not okay! “Of course. I’ll see you then.”
    “Thank
you.”
    Now
I’m in a completely shitty mood. My mood has roller-coastered from low to high
back to low again. What the hell! I’m ready for this day to be over. And the
room ! Fuck! My heart hurts just thinking about it.  
    Darn!
I was hoping no one would ever be interested. That’s not really true, but the
fact is I don’t ever want to move away from that house. I love that house. It’s
my home. Now I’ll never be able to focus.
    I
don’t hear John behind me until he speaks and I nearly jump out of my skin.
    “Hey,
calm down. Is everything all right?”
    “Not
having a good day, John.”
    “I
can see that. You need to take the afternoon off?”
    “No.
I just need to take a few minutes to pull myself together.”
    At
least if I stay here, I’ll be away from what pains me the most. I head to the
cafeteria, grab a cup of coffee, and sit down. Reaching inside my jacket, I
pull out my ever-present pictures and stare at them. My heart cracks when I see
her face. I rest my head on my hand as I set the pictures down. Sometimes I
think I would just like to end it all if I didn’t have my goal to focus on.
    When
I get back to the lab, my brain is barely engaged. I’m in a daze and all I can
do is think about that five-thirty appointment. At four-thirty, I tell John I’m
calling it a day and go home. I don’t even bother to shed my lab coat. Foggy
headed, I drive home and make it as far as the kitchen, where I take a seat at
the counter. I’m still sitting there when the doorbell rings.
    A
small part of me thinks about not answering it, but then I know how foolish
that would be. When I open the door, I’m shocked to see a man standing there
and not Anne Crosby. And this is not just any man. Emerald green eyes nail mine
and I’m instantly intimidated. He assesses me, analyzes me. I can almost see
his brain ticking away. It wouldn’t surprise me if a computer printout would
miraculously appear, and he’d snatch it out of the air, fold it up, and slide
it into his pocket for future reference.
    “Hello.”
His voice is deep and husky.
    He
hasn’t blinked since I opened the door.
    “Hi.”
I wave him through, but he doesn’t enter.
    “Anne
isn’t here yet?” he asks crisply.
    “Apparently
not.”
    “I’m
Kestrel Hart.”
    “Carter
Drayton.”
    I
extend my hand to shake his. He takes hold of it and his is warm ,
almost comforting. My phone rings and I break contact to dig it out of my
pocket. It’s then I realize I’m still in my lab coat.
    “Dr.
Drayton,” I answer, without thinking. I wave him through again, but he still
doesn’t enter.
    “Hi,
Dr. Drayton. Anne Crosby here. Has Mr. Hart arrived yet?”
    “Yes,
he’s standing on the porch right now.”
    “I’m
so sorry. Something’s come up—a family emergency. Nothing serious, but
I’m not going to be able to make it. Would you mind showing Mr. Hart around?”
    It’s
the last thing I want to do, but what the hell can I say?
    “No,
that’s fine. I’ll let him know.”
    “Thank
you. I’ll be in touch.”
    “Is
everything okay?” he asks.
    “Anne
has an emergency and can’t make it. I’ll show you the house, if you’re fine
with that.”
    “Sure.”
    This
time he enters when I wave him in.
    We
start on the first floor and after a few minutes, I say, “You know, why don’t
you just have a look for yourself. If you have any questions, let me know.”
    “Sounds
fine to me.”
    He
smiles and it softens his stern features. Then he’s off to look around on his
own. He has to sense my hostility. I’ve tried to cover it