Save My Soul Read Online Free PDF Page B

She leaned over the vanity to the mirror and studied the red bump on her forehead that turned blue at the edges. The rest of her head hurt, too, not only because of the localized pain from before.
    Her stomach grumbled, and Maggie smoothed a palm over her belly. No wonder her head hurt. The last thing to cross her lips had been a stack of gluten-free crackers in Chicago’s O’Hare Airport.
    She’d been looking forward to a quiet evening of room service in order to build up enough emotional and mental strength to call Crystal for details about what ultimately happened with Paul. So much for quiet. Now Maggie had to haul her empty stomach and humungous headache out of this bathroom to face Jordon Kemmons.
    Maggie emerged from the bathroom with a scowl on her face, but her misery didn’t last long. Through windows and sky lights, the setting sun blanketed the house in a comforting orange glow. After setting her suitcase in the foyer, she clicked her heels across the wood floors to a gourmet kitchen where a single light glowed above the Viking range, spilling onto marble counters and tiled backsplash. Her stomach rumbled again.
    She could hardly be expected to have an intelligent conversation in her current state, so she fought feelings of overstepping her boundaries and reached for the handle of the stainless steel refrigerator, opening the door. Meat, milk, eggs and cheese. Two lone pieces of fruit sat on the top shelf next to a half-full jar of pickles and a two-liter bottle of Mountain Dew. She peeked into the vegetable crisper and crinkled her nose at wilted lettuce and carrots blackened with age. Without a better option, she closed her hand around the least offensive piece of fruit, a marked-up Granny Smith’s apple.
    After picking some bruises from the surface with her green-painted finger nails, Maggie rinsed the apple until it shined. She snatched a bottle of spring water from a smaller, glass-door refrigerator and headed in search of Jordon. When she didn’t find him in the communal areas of the house, she suspected he was busy behind a closed door, hopefully securing her replacement.
    Sparkling lake beckoned from enormous windows stretching the full width of the dining room and living room. It wasn’t an ocean view, but the scene conjured similar feelings of peace and awe. She slid a glass door open and filled her lungs with crisp evening air, tinged with the soft scent of fish and grass, dirt and wood.
    Her gaze fell to the spot where Carlos jumped, and a chill picked at her arms. Why did he do it? What was he trying to accomplish? Death? Attention?
    â€œWill you be joining me for dinner?”
    The apple dropped, splitting at her feet. Maggie looked to the broken fruit and then to the man sitting in the shadows. His large body rocked back in a patio chair, and his long legs crossed at the ankles, propping on the edge of a stone table. He’d traded the expensive suit for a pair of athletic shorts that gathered dangerously high on his powerful thighs. She glanced at his large hands resting on his flat stomach, atop a red T with a black swoosh stretching across his thick chest.
    As Maggie bent for the apple, the talisman bounced against the inside of her shirt.
You can never have too much knowledge and understanding.
The ghost of Crystal’s words carried on the wind. But Jordon wasn’t the kind of man Maggie needed to know or understand. Every nerve ending warned her to stay away and yet the same intense curiosity and lust for life that pulled Crystal into chaos, tugged at Maggie.
    â€œDid you hear me?”
    She grabbed the apple and reminded herself to breathe. “Yes, I did, but I’m just going to eat this apple.”
    Jordon looked at the smashed fruit in her hands and a sort of smile touched his full lips. “Good luck with that.”
    The near-smile made her feel itchy and overheated. Why she felt that way begged for analysis, but she pushed the wayward