Sleeping Beauty Read Online Free PDF Page B

need a man any longer, does she?
    James’s heart skipped, then raced into a hard rhythm. “Mrs. Wild,” he said.
    And as the name came out his mouth, a reply to Teddy’s question sprang to mind, fully formed: not necessarily , James thought. That would depend on what the woman wanted these days .

Chapter 4
    C oco Wild had arrived at Buckingham Palace that evening with Jay Levanthal, a witty, brash fellow out of San Francisco with a Harvard education he had parlayed into a bank charter and a number of prudent investments. He, Coco, and two of his visiting partners and their wives had dined out tonight, then come here. Levanthal had dragged her and the others along as a blind, so to speak, in order to get a clear shot at a duck whose money he wanted for his latest investment scheme. If the duck were smart, Coco thought, he’d give all his money over to the American. She herself had made a sizable piece of cash by investing with him.
    “Mrs. Wild.”
    Coco turned, then laughed, astonished. “Why, what a surprise!” It was the young man from the dentist’s parlor.
    Mr. Stoker looked splendid in evening clothes—crisply pleated white against black. He was taller than she recalled, the set of his shoulders wider, his stance more square and straight. Perhaps it was the neat upperclass cut of his evening suit. In any event,his beaming smile was exactly as she remembered—as cocky as a new rooster in the yard. Something about him, possibly his energy, amused her afresh: he conveyed a vigor, an impetus she no longer possessed. A verve for life. He wanted things. And believed he could have them.
    “Jay,” she said, reaching back. “You have to meet—”
    Jay wasn’t immediately behind her where he’d been a moment ago. Coco let him be, since he seemed to be talking to a man who had just come up, an official of some sort. Good. He loved officials.
    To Mr. Stoker, she said, “And this is your party?”
    “Indeed.”
    The American’s voice grew loud all at once, making both her and Mr. Stoker turn. “But I’m telling you,” he said, “I have a damned invitation, and the lady is here as my evening’s companion.”
    The official said, “Nonetheless, sir, you and the lady will have to leave.”
    The man blew angry air through his lips as he reached into his inside coat pocket. “I can show you the damned invitation—”
    From behind her, Coco heard Mr. Stoker say, “I would like them to stay. As my guests.”
    Stay. Go . She frowned and looked from one man to the other.
    The official scowled at Mr. Stoker. Jay glowered at both of them. While Mr. Stoker kept his eyes fixed on Coco. His smile was radiant. She stared for a moment into a handsome, young face so full of pure, guileless goodwill it was hard to look away.

    Their gazes held for just a dash longer than seemed quite normal, till his interest seemed…complicated somehow, disconcertingly frank. Reflexively, Coco smiled, a warm, lively social mechanism. “Jay,” she said, “this is the young man from this morning, the one I was telling you about.”
    Mr. Stoker nodded in acknowledgment, but his attention remained immovable—so insistently upon her that Coco began to feel as if…as if her dress were ripped or her hair coming down or her necklace come undone. Her smile wavered; she put her hand to her throat, raising her brow in bemused query: What?
    His answer was to laugh as if they shared an inside joke.
    She laughed too, her face warming—though the real joke was that she hadn’t the slightest idea why she was laughing.
    Behind she heard him say, “ This is the man?”
    She looked around. “Um. Yes—”
    “But tonight’s party is for him, Coco, my dear.”
    “Is it?” She faintly remembered Mr. Stoker saying something about a party being in his honor. But this affair, well, it was more than a “party.”
    “Indeed. And the Queen bestowed a knighthood on him last week. For bringing her all that gold over there.” Jay offered Mr. Stoker his