Strange Bedfellow Read Online Free PDF

shoulders, his expression deadly serious as he gazed intently into her eyes. Her muscles were becoming sore and they protested at the tightness of his hold.  
    “It's this...” he began earnestly.  
    But he got no further as a low, huskily pitched male voice interrupted. “Chet seems to think you're going to go into a state of shock when you find out I'm alive.”  
    The floor rocked beneath her feet. Dina managed a half turn on her treacherously unsteady footing, magnetically drawn to the voice. The whole floor seemed to give way when she saw its owner, yet she remained upright, her collapsing muscles supported by Chet.  
    There was a dreamlike unreality to the moment.  
    Almost nightmarelike, since it seemed a cruel joke for someone to stand in the doorway of the living room masquerading as Blake, mimicking his voice.  
    She stared wordlessly at the tall figure framed by the living-room doors. There was much about the chiseled features that resembled Blake—the wide forehead, the carved cheek and jaw, the strong chin and classically straight nose.  
    Yet there were differences, too. The sun had burned this man's face a dusky tan, making it leathery and tough, giving a hardness to features that in Blake had been suavely handsome. The eyes were the same dark brown, but they wore a narrowed, hooded look as they seemed to pierce into the very marrow of her soul.  
    His hair was the same deep shade of umber brown, but its waving thickness was much longer than Blake had ever worn it, giving the impression of being rumpled instead of smoothly in place. As tall as Blake, this man's build was more muscled. Not that Blake had been a weakling by any means; it was just that this man seemed more developed without appearing heavier.  
    The differences registered with computer swiftness, her brain working while the rest of her was reeling from the similarities. The buzzing in her head continued nonstop, facts clicking into place.  
    But it wasn't her eyes that Dina trusted. What finally led her to a conclusion was Chet's peculiar behavior before this man appeared; his innate kindness, which would never have permitted a cruel joke like this to be played on her; and the something that he was going to tell before they were interrupted.  
    Blake was alive. And he was standing in the doorway. She swayed forward, but her feet wouldn't move. Chet's hands tightened in support and she turned her stunned gaze to him. The confirmation was there in his carefully watchful face.  
    “It's true,” she breathed, neither a statement nor a question.  
    Chet nodded, a silent warning in his eyes. It was then that Dina felt the cold weight of his engagement ring around her finger, and the blood drained from her face. Her hands reached out to cling to Chet's arms, suddenly and desperately needing his support to remain upright.  
    “It seems Chet was right,” that familiar, lazy voice drawled in an arid tone. “My return is more of a shock to you than I thought it would be,” Blake observed. The angle of his head shifted slightly to the side to direct his next words over his shoulder without releasing Dina from his level gaze. “She needs some hot, sweet coffee, laced with a stiff shot of brandy.”  
    “Exactly,” Chet agreed, and curved a bracing arm around her waist. “Let's find you a place to sit down, Dina.” Numbly she accepted his help, aware of his gaze flickering to Blake. “Seeing you standing in the doorway was bound to have been like seeing a ghost. I told you we were all convinced you were dead.”  
    “Not me,” Mother Chandler contradicted him, moving to stand beside her son. “I always knew somehow that he was still alive somewhere out there, despite what everyone said.”  
    Fleetingly, Dina was aware of the blatant lie in her mother-in-law's assertion. The thought had barely formed when she realized there were others in the living room. She recognized the faces of close family friends, gathered to celebrate