Lucifer's Lover Read Online Free PDF Page A

gasped.
    “Have you ever wondered what it might be like to kiss me?” he asked softly.
    She stared at him, flummoxed. Had she really heard him say what she thought he’d just said?
    “I-I… What?” She blinked at him. Out of left field. Out of a blue sky. “What on Earth…?”
    He smiled and it seemed to her that the smile was bitter. “I guess I have my answer,” he said, reaching for the small button that would restart the elevator’s descent.
    Lindsay kept very still as the elevator started up and slid down to the lobby level. She kept her eyes on the display, afraid to look around.
    Her heart was racing as if she’d run a mad hundred yard sprint and her mind was churning with bewilderment. What was going on? She didn’t understand it at all. It was as if that one glimpse into Luke’s eyes and the small, singular note of bitterness had opened up a whole new facet to Luke and she wasn’t sure she wanted it opened.
    The doors slid open, revealing the pink-marbled, gold-and-crystal-enhanced lobby and a swell of pride lifted her heart a little. The Derwent was a classy hotel, no doubt of it. Small enough to be intimate, large enough to be sophisticated.
    She was about to step out when Luke’s arm came across the opening, jamming the doors back with the flat of his palm and blocking her way. He looked at her, lowering his chin a little to do so.
    “You know, when I first arrived here, I was a little bit intimidated, a little in awe of your unrelenting dedication to your career. I’ve never met anyone quite like you before. But after a couple of weeks, I began to wonder when you were going to stop for breath. I started watching for it. I figured sooner or later you’d have to come up for air. But you didn’t.”
    Lindsay bit her lip. “You don’t understand—”
    “No, I don’t. I don’t even admire it any more, Lindsay. After six months of waiting for you to fall off the pedestal, I started getting really uneasy. Now, when it comes right down to it, mostly what I feel when I watch you doing your thing is…” He paused and she saw him draw breath. “I pity you.” His voice was very low.
    He let the doors go and stepped out.
    Lindsay stepped out behind him and watched him walk across the rugs and marble to the bank of glass doors leading onto Queen Street, sliding into his jacket as he went.
    She didn’t know whether she should be angry or upset. Neither seemed to fit with the churning inside her. Luke’s words had been mild but his attitude, the quiet depth of feeling behind the simple words had stirred up a huge, hard ball of reaction that she had no idea how to start dissolving.
    He patently disapproved of her, that much was clear.
    Well, she didn’t like him much, either.
    So why did his disapproval strike so deeply, then?
    * * * * *
     
    When Lindsay got home, the house was dark and still. She threaded her way through the familiar rooms to the kitchen and turned on the light, then stood with her head down, listening.
    Yes, there was the muffled shriek of the electric sander.
    Her father was down in the basement, building another bed, chair, table or some such piece of furniture.
    Lindsay grabbed a tub of yogurt from the refrigerator, a teaspoon from the dish drainer next to the sink and headed for the basement.
    Both rows of neon tubes were lit, flooding the basement with merciless white light. Working on the center bench, her father was bent over an odd-shaped piece of wood, eyeing the edge of it.
    Lindsay stepped through the piles of soft wood shavings and sawdust to his side and kissed his bald spot. She leaned back against the bench and opened the yogurt and ate hungrily.
    Edward Eden smiled at her, a quick glance, before returning his attention back to the wood in his hands.
    “Warped?” she asked.
    He pursed his lips and wiggled one hand with the fingers spread, expressing his dilemma.
    She eyed the wood. “It looks fine to me.”
    It took him a minute to answer. “So says the girl