Lovers and Strangers Read Online Free PDF Page B

salvation?"
    She followed his gaze, looking down at the paper in his hand. The sight of his fingers, long, blunt-tipped, with fine dark hairs along their backs, was strangely unsettling. "Neither." She shook her head slightly, trying to clear it, and clutched the sheaf of flyers more closely to her breast. "It's, ah... a business announcement, I guess you could say. But that's not why I stopped by. Not entirely." She cleared her throat. "My name is Faith McCray, Mr. Shannon, and the rea—"
    "Jack," he corrected.
    She looked up a him blankly.
    "My name is Jack."
    "Yes, well... Jack. The reason I stopped is—" she forced herself to look directly into his eyes, steeling herself for whatever she might see there "—I wanted to apologize."
    Jack cocked an eyebrow. "Apologize?"
    "For Friday night at Flynn's. I was very rude."
    "Oh?"
    She nodded. "You were only trying to be nice, and instead of thanking you for coming to my rescue, I overreacted and got angry. I do that sometimes when I'm upset." She shrugged uncomfortably and glanced away, unconsciously trying to hide the faint blush that warmed her cheeks. "Or embarrassed."
    "Would you get angry or embarrassed if I invited you in for a cup of coffee?" Jack asked, resisting the urge to look behind him to see who'd uttered the words.
    She looked up at him uncertainly. "Coffee?"
    "I'm in the middle of brewing a fresh pot."
    "Well, I..."
    He was more than a head taller than she was and pounds heavier. His jeans were faded to nearly white at the seams and his faded black T-shirt was ripped at the neck. His feet were bare. He needed a haircut and he hadn't shaved. A tattoo of a fierce looking bird of prey decorated his right bicep. All in all, she thought, he looked bad-tempered and dangerous. She'd have to be crazy to accept his invitation.
    His mouth quirked up at one corner as he read her expression. "The coffee will be fresh, Angel. But I promise, I won't be."
    She studied him for a moment longer. He wasn't looking at her as if she were nothing now. There was no hint of disgust or pity in his eyes. No ulterior motive, either, as far as she could see.
    "Well?" he said, trying to sound as if it didn't matter to him one way or another what her answer was. And wondering why it did. "Are you coming in for that coffee or not?"
    Why, he's lonely, she thought, and there's something sad way at the back of his eyes. Faith knew all about lonely. She knew about sorrow, too. "All right," she said with a slight nod. "I think I'd like that."
    Jack stepped back, tacitly inviting her into his apartment.
    Faith stepped over the threshold.
    "Come on in." He gestured down the hall toward the apartment's interior with the hand that still held her flyer and pushed the front door closed with the other.
    The door shut with a sharp click, sealing them together inside the apartment. "Living room's straight ahead," he said following her. "Make yourself comfortable while I see if I can dig up a couple of clean mugs."
    Faith smiled and hoped she didn't look as nervous as she felt. With one notable exception, which didn't really count, she'd never been alone with a man in his apartment before. It was a little strange. And kind of scary. And very exciting. And... messy, she decided, looking around her with avid interest.
    There was a long brown leather sofa against one wall, one end piled high with unfolded laundry. A perfectly plain pine coffee table sat in front of it, covered with untidy stacks of newspapers and magazines that spilled over onto the carpet. A small portable television and a VCR sat opposite the sofa, perched atop a pyramid of cardboard boxes. The components of what looked to her like a brand-new, state-of-the-art audio system were tucked into the built-in bookshelves among piles of books, CDs and videotapes stacked every which way.
    From where she was standing, Faith could see through a wide, graceful archway into the dining area. It was equally bare, containing only a kitchen table and two