The Wall Read Online Free PDF

being administered to by her father. 'He had a romp this way in
    the afternoon, and I took care that he sniffed around at the sand castle
    to get used to your scent. If you'd come on to the beach and he hadn't
    been familiarised with you, he might have attacked.'
    Sara swallowed hard. 'Oh.' His hand was brushing off the back of her
    thighs and she wriggled. 'I think that's good enough, thank you.
    Will—do you think Beowulf might bite me now?' This last was asked
    in a slightly anxious tone as she shot an apprehensive glance at the
    black, silent dog who panted calmly as he sat not five feet away.
    Greg raised his head to look briefly at the dog. 'I don't think so,' he
    said casually. 'He didn't bite you before.'
    'You don't think so?' she returned sarcastically. 'By the way, did I
    ever thank you for your generous offer to let me roam your beach
    freely, unaware of the dog?'
    A soft chuckle sounded at this, and Greg clicked his hand at Beowulf
    imperatively, at which the dog immediately heaved up and advanced
    on the two with the most amiable of ambles.
    Sara backed up sharply at this and a long hard arm snaked out to
    curve around her waist and pull her up short. She started to lean
    against it, then to wriggle protestingly as the dog came closer. 'Stop
    that, for heaven's sake!' Greg told her impatiently, looking down at
    her large eyes and apprehensive look. Then his own face softened
    slightly, although she was too busy noticing the dog to see it, and his
    voice softened too. 'Don't you see that he won't hurt you if he knows
    I approve of you and show you friendliness? Hold still and let him
    get close.'
    She tried to stand calmly at this reasonable tone of voice, but couldn't
    help leaning back on his arm a bit as Greg moved to the dog and
    started to talk quietly to the beast, patting him on the head and
    motioning for him to come up to Sara. She stiffened as the great head
    lowered to her legs and feet to sniff in a totally friendly manner, and
    she held her breath. Beowulf snuffled about, raised his head, and
    wagged his stump slightly. At this, Greg told her with amusement in
    his voice, 'Pet him now, he won't bite. And you can let out your
    breath now, too.'
    She expelled gustily, annoyed with his perception, and held out a
    tentative hand to the dog. A pink tongue lolloped her forefinger. She
    patted the dark head with a little more confidence and was rewarded
    with a happy push of the head against her legs and an adoring ogle
    from those velvet eyes. 'I think he likes me,' she said, delighted.
    'Of course he does,' was the calm reply. She looked up as Greg told
    her, 'I told him he could.'
    'Do you mean to tell me he's a guard dog who attacks anyone not
    strictly acquainted with his master?' she asked incredulously.
    'Something like that,' he replied shortly. Looking down at her spilled
    camera bag, he asked her, 'Did you manage to get a picture of the
    castle ruins before Beowulf mauled you?'
    'Yes. That's why I was down on the sand,' she explained, moving to
    pick up the things and dust them off carefully.
    'I thought he'd knocked you down.'
    'He probably would have if I hadn't been prone already,' she
    muttered, feeling annoyed when he laughed softly at that. How could
    she have ever wanted to hear him laugh again? It was most
    provoking. She stared at him consideringly, taking in the change of
    clothes, the nicer slacks instead of jeans and the dark sweater over a
    lighter shirt that was open at his strong brown throat. He looked
    good, and letting her eyes roam over the rather craggy features, she
    wondered at ever thinking him unhandsome. He was in his own way
    very good-looking. His dark hair was long at the back, curling over
    the collar of his shirt with a slight wave, and was shorter around the
    ears and forehead. It swept back with a natural curl. Sara averted her
    eyes.
    His dark eyes had been trained on her and he had seen her turn away
    hastily. What must he think of me? she asked silently,