McCloud's Woman Read Online Free PDF

she teased, fluttering her
lashes. “That’s probably an unpardonable sin, but I’m willing to
overlook it.” She tilted her head, and a few silky curls fell from the
stack. “Once upon a time, you had the vestige of a sense of humor. Did
it all dry up?”
    His brothers had always called TJ the professor and swore
he never laughed. In these past years he’d learned that humor and human
remains didn’t mix well. If she wanted a comedian, he’d send her to
Jared. Maybe his brother was the one who she was remembering. Jared had a
way with women.
    TJ took another step away, diverting his gaze from
tantalizing curves revealed by an open button on her blue shirt. “In my
profession, humor tends toward the macabre, so if I was supposed to
laugh, I apologize. If you would excuse me, I have to go to the office. I
have no one answering the phone today.”
    “That’s why God invented answering machines.” She swung into step beside him.
    Her height and stride fit comfortably beside his. Reaching
his office door, TJ unlocked but didn’t open it. “Are you applying for
the job of my assistant?”
    “Do you think I’d look good in a lab coat?” She patted her
blond upsweep and batted her long lashes outrageously. “What else is
your assistant required to do?”
    “Work independently and leave me alone,” he answered gravely.
    An imp of interest played havoc with TJ’s restraint as she
began whistling an inane song from an old television show while giving
him an appraising once-over as if he were a centerfold of Playgirl . The song rang clarion warnings in his mind, but her admiring stare was messing with his head, and he didn’t heed the alarm.
    “Honey, you’d better hire yourself a man if you want to be
left alone. I don’t think you’d be safe even with a blind woman.” Her
hand did an imitation of pitterpatter above her right breast, then
transferred to repeat the gesture on his shirt pocket.
    TJ dodged her marauding fingers and shoved open the door.
“If you’re not applying for the job, then I’ll leave you here. We’re not
open to the public.” He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her distract him.
    She leaned against the frame and crossed her arms,
preventing him from closing the door. “I didn’t come out here for the
pleasure of torturing you—although that holds a certain appeal. We need
to talk.”
    Another piece of the puzzle popped from his memory. Patsy
used to say that. Her worst arguments started with “We need to talk,”
accompanied by exactly the same body language. Do-wa-diddy-diddy ,
that was how the song went. She used to wail it off-key at the top of
her lungs when she followed him and Brad down the street.
    Patsy? TJ squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head to
free the cobwebs. Why in hell had he thought of that skinny geek of a
child when faced with this full-grown blond bombshell? Patsy had brown
braids, thick glasses, and lurked a hundred years and a thousand miles
in his past. She was probably a lawyer tackling the Supreme Court by
now.
    Resolutely, TJ opened his eyes, determined to dismiss the
puzzle and start sorting through the evidence boxes as he should have
done when they’d arrived a few days ago.
    Green eyes stared back at him. Patsy had green eyes.
They’d been her best feature, although no one had noticed them behind
her cheap horn rims.
    “Timothy John, if you don’t quit looking at me like I’m a Martian invader, I’ll kick your shin.”
    Patsy . TJ closed his eyes again and shuddered. No way. Not now. Not here. Not looking like this .
A voice from his past speaking through the luscious lips of a movie
star had to be a hallucination. Maybe his crazed brain thought he needed
a sharp jab in the eye to get him focused.
    The apparition caught his elbow and steered him inside,
letting the door snap closed behind them. She was tall, reaching past
his shoulder. He’d always liked that about Patsy—her height made him
feel less