Slow Burn Read Online Free PDF

discomforting.
    She freed her arm and clutched her purse with
both hands. “There must be a mistake, Ron. I’m supposed to be
meeting your mother.” She caught herself fidgeting with the clasp
of her purse and forced herself to stop. It was bad enough having
his presence throw her off but quite another to make him aware of
it. “The meeting was supposed to be tomorrow, but her assistant
called and changed it.”
    “I know.” A slow grin settled on his mouth,
then spread to his cobalt blue eyes. “My mother is not feeling too
well, so I hope you don’t mind if you and I talk instead. Would you
like something to drink?”
    A drink would steady her nerves, but that
would mean spending time in his company. The speech she’d prepared
was meant for his mother, not him. His agenda didn’t exactly
coincide with hers. Plus, there was the attraction between them. It
kept catching her off guard.
    “No, thank you. I’d rather—”
    “Come on, Ashley. One drink. I promise I’ll
be a perfect gentleman.”
    As if that had anything to do with why she
was wary. “Okay. White wine, please.”
    While he walked to the bar to get her drink,
she sat down and took a fortifying breath, then another. He’s just
a man, one that I can handle. The word ‘handle’ brought to mind
images that had nothing to do with Carlyle House. She found herself
peeking at the way he filled his jeans and the ease in his
swagger.
    Focus, Ashley. She was supposed to be
thinking about what she would say once he brought up his
investigation not how he would look bare-chested. This was so
insane, so unlike her.
    “Here you go,” Ron said as he handed her a
crystal glass.
    “Thank you.”
    He picked up his Heineken bottle and touched
it to her glass. “Here’s to friendship.” Then he waited and watched
her as she took a sip of her wine. His gaze lingered on her lips
before snaring hers. “Is it okay?”
    “Perfect.” She studied him from above the rim
of her glass as he sat down and took a swig of his beer. She would
never have guessed he was a straight-from-the-bottle beer drinker.
But then again, she knew nothing about him. The blue shirt he wore
played tricks with his eye color, making them appear darker than
usual, and the faded jeans couldn’t hide his muscular thighs or
strong legs.
    He shifted, drawing her attention back to his
face. The smile on his lips indicated he’d been aware of her
scrutiny. Heat suffused her face and she rushed into speech.
    “What did you want to talk to me about?”
    “Carlyle House.”
    The man was direct if anything. “If this is
about your investigation, then you should know I have done a little
of my own. I stopped by the Public Records Office again a few days
ago and picked up a copy of the fire report on the house. Faulty
wiring was the verdict. Also my aunt and uncle hired a detective to
check into it right after it happened. The P.I. never found
anything to indicate foul play.”
    Ron leaned back against his seat, stretched
his long legs and studied her from under lowered lids. Her gaze
stayed locked with his.
    The silence grew tense, unnerving. Whoever
was playing the piano stopped, and the house became eerily quiet.
Ashley started to sweat. Hoping her hand didn’t shake, she lifted
her glass to her lips and took a sip of her wine. Swallowing was
damn near impossible but she managed it.
    “Well?” she asked, cocking her eyebrows.
    Admiration flashed in his eyes, then quickly
disappeared. “I wasn’t talking about my investigation although I’m
happy you took what I said seriously. With my mother flying back to
New York tomorrow, I’m in charge of Carlyle House. Anyone
interested in it must now deal with me.”
    That was the last thing she needed. “When
will she be back?”
    He shrugged. “Next weekend, perhaps. She’s
producing a play, so I don’t know for sure. Can I ask you
something?”
    “Sure.”
    “Why Carlyle House?”
    Ah, the dreaded question. Here goes. “It’s location near