Strangers in Paradise Read Online Free PDF Page B

you?”
    â€œWill you please go home?”
    He smiled at her. “Your face is smudged.”
    â€œIs it?” She smiled serenely. She was sure it was. Her stockings were torn, her skirt was probably beyond repair, and she undoubtedly resembled a used mop.
    He came a step nearer to her, raising a hand to her cheek. She remembered the tenderness with which he had held her when she was trembling and shaking in fear. When she had been vulnerable and weak.
    She felt that same tenderness come from him now and the sensual draw of the rueful curl of his mouth. She should have stepped back. She didn’t. She felt the brush of his thumb against her flesh and caught her breath. He didn’t want her there; he had said so. And she wanted to be alone.
    She didn’t move, however. Except for the trembling that started up, inside of her this time. She just felt that touch.
    â€œGood night, Ms. Jordan,” he said softly.
    He was out the door, warning her to bolt it, before she thought to reply.

Chapter 2
    A lexi rinsed her face at the sink and dried it with paper towels. She had showered in the powder room beneath the stairs, but that was as far as she had ventured in her new realm—which wasn’t really new at all. Twenty years before, she had spent a summer here with Gene. But twenty years was a long time, and the house was truly a disaster since Gene had left it so many months ago.
    She sat at the butcher-block table to do her makeup, thinking that she didn’t look much better than she had the night before. She had slept poorly. Sleeping on the kitchen floor hadn’t helped, but strangely, once Rex Morrow had left, she had been really uneasy—too frightened to explore any further. But when she had slept, nightmares had awakened her again and again. Nightmares of John combining with the horrid fear that had assailed her with Rex’s first touch last night. Naturally, perhaps. She’d been attacked. But then her dreams had become even more disconcerting. She’d dreamed of Rex Morrow in a far gentler way, of his eyes on her, of his touch, of his smile. Dreamed of the assurance in his voice. All night the visions had filtered through her mind. Violence, tenderness—both had stolen from her any hope of a good night’s sleep.
    She felt better once her makeup was on. Even before she had left home on her own—before John—she had learned that with makeup she could pretend that she was wearing a mask and that she could hide all expression and emotion behind it. That wasn’t true, of course. But as she had aged, she had learned to create masks with her features, and the more years slipped by her, the greater comfort she took in concealing her feelings.
    Rex Morrow had seen her feelings, she reminded herself. But it had proved as uncomfortable for him as it had for her. He wanted her gone, right? He valued his privacy; he wanted the land all to himself.
    â€œSorry, Mr. Morrow,” she murmured out loud. “I’m not quite as pathetic as I appeared last night. And I’m staying.”
    She took a sip of coffee, then bit her lower lip. She wished she could forget how his eyes had moved over her, how his thumb had felt when he’d smoothed away the smudge on her cheek.
    And she wished that she would get up and start cleaning.
    But she decided that she wasn’t going to plunge right in. Chicken? she challenged herself. Maybe. After last night, she deserved to take her time. She’d explore later. She was simply feeling lethargic. Today she’d go into town and find a rental car. Today, she reminded herself, was half over. It had been almost twelve when she had risen, because it had been at least six when she had finally slept.
    It was three in the afternoon when she requested a taxi at last. She’d called Gene to assure him that her first night had gone well and that she was happy at the house. She told him the truth about what had happened with Rex