The Secret Heiress Read Online Free PDF Page B

caught watching me before. I’m sure of it. Hadn’t she seen him looking at her in the student center dining hall several times? And she was certain that more than once when she’d been walking on campus, she’d seen him trailing along behind her. Why would a guy who’s so good-looking—so hot —be interested in me? I’m not a flashy dresser, and I don’t even wear much makeup. What does he want?
    She tried to concentrate on the painting but couldn’t. Her attention was focused on the stranger, whoever he was. He didn’t look like the average student, she thought. For one thing, he was older. A graduate student? Possibly. Also, he looked more . . . what was it? she asked herself. Rugged and experienced. That was it. Somehow, he seemed more worldly than most students, as if he’d done a lot of things that had nothing to do with academics.
    Nervously brushing a long strand of blond hair out of her eyes, she moved along a few feet to the next painting, pretending to study it as she had done with the last one. She failed to see more than a blur of colors. She was too agitated by the stranger’s presence. I wish Kurt was with me, she thought. Maybe if he saw my boyfriend, then he’d buzz off. On the other hand, this guy didn’t look like the type to be intimidated by another man. And Kurt, even though tall and athletic, was, she sensed, no match for this guy.
    Moving a few more steps along, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. The man was sitting down on one of the long padded benches in the center of the room and appeared to be eyeing one of the paintings. But she knew better. She’d seen him stare at her again. Suddenly Ariadne was angry. I came here for a break, she thought, and this creep has ruined it.
    Without thinking about it, she abruptly marched to the bench and sat down a couple of feet from him, facing in the opposite direction. “Have you been following me?” she asked in a low voice.
    He looked directly at her, and Ariadne held his gaze. His dark eyes sparkled with interest and humor, she thought, and his sensuous lips spread in a smile. “Following you?” he parroted.
    “Yes,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “I keep seeing you everywhere I go, and you’re always staring at me.”
    He shook his head, and his dark, slightly long and curly hair shook with it. “I haven’t been following you,” he said, “but I have stared at you.” He smiled again.
    What? So he admitted it. Ariadne was momentarily speechless. “But . . . but why?”
    “Because you’re beautiful,” he said. “I’m sorry if I’ve scared you, but I’m only doing what any red-blooded male would do.” He shifted on the bench, and Ariadne sensed that beneath his clothing he was extremely well built. He was tall with broad shoulders and an impressive chest that tapered to a slim waist. She could see now that he was as she’d thought: very good-looking but in a ruggedly handsome way with dark hair and eyes. He wasn’t perfectly groomed, nor did he appear to be a buffed, spray-tanned gym rat like so many of the big men about campus. No, the color in his face was more the result of spending a lot of time in the outdoors.
    The man stuck out a hand. “My name’s Matt,” he said congenially. “Please accept my apology.”
    Ariadne looked down at the proffered hand, then up at him. His expression was so genuinely warm and inviting. She took his hand. “I’m Ariadne,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be rude, but I’m not used to being stared at. And I have seen you around a lot.”
    “I really am sorry,” he said. He glanced about the room. “I guess part of it is that we have some of the same interests. I come to the museum a lot, and I’ve seen you here. Are you an art major?”
    Ariadne shook her head. “Oh, no,” she replied. “I’m studying economics.”
    He nodded. “But you like the museum?”
    “Yes. It’s soothing and peaceful, and a lot of the art is beautiful.” She paused,