Manhattan Master Read Online Free PDF Page B

my
own.
    She thinks she's a free
spirit without patterns, but everyone believes that. Realizing that
common mistake made my fortune. Exploiting it gives me
power.
    Finding her has taken a
lot of time and expense. She's worth it, but she doesn't know that
either. Everything is about to change for you, Evangeline
Bright.
    Yes, I know your real
name. I know everything you hid from me, and even from yourself.
Whatever I have to do – for you or to you – you're going to see
things my way.
    Or else.

CHAPTER ONE

    When I unlocked my apartment late that
Friday night, I stopped with my keys still swinging from my
hand.
    Something was different.
    A dim beam from the outer hallway
light cut into the darkness of my small living room. The deadbolt
had been locked when I pushed in my key. The security system had
beeped when I entered the code.
    There was no back door to worry about.
My second-story windows were safe unless Spiderman had turned to a
life of crime.
    Nothing was out of place. There was
silence except for the hum of the fridge and the ever-present throb
of Atlanta traffic.
    It was all very ordinary. After two
years I knew every creak and every scent in every
corner.
    But my guard was up. Way, way up.
Something was in the air that had nothing to do with my
life.
    A primitive part of me suddenly spoke
up.
    Run, Eva. Right now. Even
if you feel stupid later.
    My mind fluttered for a logical
reason, found one, seized it with relief.
    Maintenance had finally replaced the
carpet last month. It looked better, but there was still a faintly
unpleasant chemical after-smell.
    How stupid to let that worry me. I was
getting paranoid at the ripe old age of twenty-two.
    It's not the same, and you
know it.
    "Stop being a chicken," I muttered,
reaching for the light switch.
    Click-click-click. Nothing.
    A shadow moved behind the door,
knocking it shut. A strong hand caught the back of my head as a
cloth covered my face.
    Keen scent filled my nose and throat.
That was it. The thing that didn't belong here.
    Fucking security system. I
want a refund.
    That childish, useless thought
followed me into unconsciousness.

                   

    "Wake up, Eva."
    Grayness was inside my head as I
considered that voice. Deep and male, a hint of rasp.
    A cool curve of glass touched my dry
lips. Suddenly I was swallowing cold water on reflex.
    The brain fog scared me. Something was
happening. Something bad. A single thought burst forward with
half-awake urgency.
    Face. Don't…look
at…face…
    I squeezed my eyes shut as hard as I
could. Pressure starbursts bloomed behind my eyelids.
    "I don't have a lot of money," I
croaked. "It's in the bathroom, taped under the sink. Just take it
and go. I didn't see your face."
    His low chuckle stroked my
ears.
    "I don't need your money. Or your car
keys. Or your jewelry, if those are your next offers. Open your
eyes. I'm not going to kill you."
    The fog was fading faster as I woke
up. I was on my back in what felt like my bed. My arms were
restrained over my head.
    Oh hell. This wasn't good.
    "If I wanted you dead, you already
would be," he said mildly.
    He had a point there. Slowly I let my
eyes open.
    My bedroom was undisturbed, mostly
dark. Light from the kitchen sent a glow down the short hallway and
into the room.
    It was all very normal except for the
dark shape sitting next to me on the bed. Even in the dimness, he
radiated power.
    "I'm going to turn on the light," he
said.
    "Don't do that, I—"
    The bed shifted as he leaned to click
on the small bedside lamp. Forty watts had never seemed so bright,
making me wince as my familiar room came into focus.
    Then, against my better judgment, my
gaze touched his face.
    His steady gray eyes held no
particular expression as they studied me. Short, dark blonde hair.
Skin that looked tanned, though it was hard to tell in the
semi-dark.
    The lamp side-lit his face,
accentuating its strong, lean lines. He was almost beautiful,