Moonlight Becomes You: a short story Read Online Free PDF Page B

didn't exactly match and she'd forgotten to put in earrings, well, if anyone noticed the lack was excused because she hadn't gotten much sleep.
    She'd never gotten around to putting on those sexy shoes that made her legs look good. Maybe tonight—if there was a tonight.
    More than once during the day she'd remembered that moment when it had seemed she saw fire in Simon's eyes. She hadn't been herself at the time, and there was a red neon light across the street. Maybe his head had been in just the right position at that moment to catch a glare. That had to be it.
    There were logical explanations for all the clues that had led her to believe he was a vampire. The dirt might've some from a potted plant, even though Simon didn't have any living plants—or fake ones, for that matter—in his apartment. Someone might've been passing by with a plant and stumbled as they were walking past his door. The howl might've been an overly excited Fluffy or—considering some of the sounds she'd made last night—a very happy woman somewhere on the third floor. The hypnotizing eyes... Simon just had great eyes, and that was enough of an explanation to suit her.
    So she didn't tell anyone that she'd suspected her neighbor of being a vampire, or that she'd decided she was wrong and last night they'd eaten spaghetti in her kitchen—both of them starving from marvelously vigorous and unrestrained sex—she wearing nothing but her bathrobe, he in nothing but those incredibly sexy black jeans. She didn't tell them that for the first time in a very long time, she was happy. Tired, but happy.
    Happy as she was, she tried not to get her hopes too high. She'd been burned before, after all. A man who wanted a woman in bed might say or do anything to get her there, and then... then there were phone calls that never came, an old girlfriend who just happened to make an appearance, or that horrible "It's not you, it's me." For all she knew she'd get home and find out that her neighbor had moved during the day just to get away from her, or else he'd have a wife who'd show up out of nowhere, or else—worst of all—he'd ignore her and pretend that nothing had happened.
    Claire was thinking about Simon so intently her fingers quit moving across the keyboard. She simply stared at the screen, imagining the worst. The worst, at this moment, had nothing to do with vampires.
    She jumped when the phone on her desk rang, and answered it quickly with a too-curt, "Claire Murphy."
    "Hello, Claire Murphy."
    She smiled. No one else had a voice like that. No one else could make her shudder simply by saying her name. "Hi, Simon."
    "What are you doing?"
    "Working." Trying to, anyway. Her heart lurched. "How did you get this number?"
    "I asked the building manager where you worked, and then I used all my detective skills to thumb through a phone book."
    Would he go to so much trouble just to inform her over the phone that it wasn't going to work? That he was already tired of her? That he was married?
    "What time do you get off work?" he asked, and when he did the connection faltered a little. Apparently he was calling from his cell phone.
    "Four-thirty."
    "That's too long. Ever leave work early?"
    "Sometimes."
    "Leave now," he said, his voice low and commanding and sexy as hell. "Right now."
    Claire's heart fluttered. "I really shouldn't..."
    "To hell with shouldn't. I need you."
    Her mouth went dry, while between her legs she was anything but. "I suppose I can take half a sick day."
    "Do it."
    With that, he ended the call. No "See you later," no "Bye, now," no "I can't wait." Just a command and a click and a dial tone.
    Claire closed down her computer program and picked up her purse. Her hands were trembling, and she couldn't wait to get home. Usually on pretty days she walked home, and on less than pretty days she took the bus. Maybe today she'd grab a taxi. It would get her home quicker than walking or a bus. She informed her boss that she was going home, and since