Twisted By Love, Reincarnation Tales, Book 1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

defect that made her feel as well as hear him, reaching inside
her body, like a chord that played on her nerve endings until they
vibrated. Just as in the elevator the day before, her heart raced
and her nipples beaded. She simply stared, caught in his compelling
gaze. Why did this man have such a powerful effect on her? She
couldn’t think of a thing to say.
    “It’s addressed to the Customer Service
Director? Cumberland Electronics?” He glanced at the flyer, each
statement a question, as if he were asking for confirmation.
“Advertising a seminar on revenue recognition for the marketing
professional?”
    Revenue recognition for dummies. It was hers.
Particularly the dummy part. She’d shoved the pamphlet in the
outside pocket of her briefcase just before she left. Only a couple
of weeks away, if she wanted to register, she had to do it ASAP,
and she’d never get around to filling out the form at work. She
must have knocked the brochure loose.
    She never should have read that self-defense
book. Now everything seemed suspect. She recognized the pamphlet as
a possible technique he employed to put her at ease.
    She didn’t have any creepy-crawly sensation
telling her to run away. Exactly the opposite, in fact. “Thank
you.”
    He kept his hands in the air like a cornered
bandit. “I really am sorry for scaring you. Let me introduce
myself. My name’s Burn Daniels, and I’m on the fifteenth floor.
Daniels Associates. Just moved in about a month ago. Maybe you saw
them adding the name to the directory in the lobby.”
    She hadn’t noticed anything on the directory.
She’d only noticed him on the elevator. She’d been
fantasizing about him for the last two weeks, dreaming about a pair
of jade eyes.
    Burn. A very apt name. He certainly had the
potential to set her on fire. The less intelligent part of her
brain wanted him to burn her up right here, a need that seemed to
consume her. But she had to be sensible.
    “Here, let me show you my driver’s license to
prove who I am.” He slowly lowered a hand to sweep aside his suit
jacket and pull his wallet from his back pocket.
    She really must have acted like a weirdo,
charging through the garage, making him think she was terrified
he’d jump her at any moment.
    “And here’s my rotary club card. And a
picture of my mother.”
    She couldn’t see that far, so she couldn’t
read his name, or make out much of his mother’s face, but he didn’t
step closer.
    “She lives up north in my hometown of
Freedom, and I visit her every month.” He flipped to another
picture. “There’s my two brothers and my sister. She’s got two
boys, a husband, and a dog. She’s a psychologist, and she’ll attest
to the fact that I’m not a crazy maniac.” He raised a brow. “At
least I think she will.”
    At that point, she almost threw her hands up
in surrender. “All right, already.” She hadn’t been that afraid.
    He smiled. A transforming smile. From
primeval, dangerous predator—sort of—to happy go-lucky little boy.
“Don’t you want to know how old my nephews are?” He was teasing
her, probably had been from the moment he opened his wallet.
    “I’d rather know how many credit cards you
have and whether you pay off your full balance every month.”
    He laughed. “Three and yes. I’m forty-three,
unmarried, and I own my own home.”
    Unmarried? As in never married, or divorced?
Or widowed. Well, if he was a stalker or a serial killer or a
rapist, he had her cornered in the face of that open smile. It made
her quite warm. “Quick, what kind of dog does your sister have and
what’s its name?”
    “Irish setter-lab-mutt-mix, and his name is
Roark.”
    “Roark? Like the guy in the JD Robb
books.”
    He glanced down at the concrete as if the
name was somehow embarrassing. “No. It was my idea, after Ayn
Rand’s hero in her book The Fountainhead .”
    “Oh.”
    “Ever read it?”
    “No.” She hated to squash his almost childish
excitement. She’d never