Warm Hearts Read Online Free PDF Page A

physical reaction to thoughts alone. And just then, in that moment of reality’s intrusion, she noticed something. The profile of the dark stranger across the courtyard had changed. He’d turned his head. He was looking at her.
    Her heartbeat tripped. A flush spread over her cheeks, deepening that already created by the heat. For a split second she feared that he knew all she’d been thinking. She wondered how long he’d been looking at her and wondered why she hadn’t noticed sooner. Perhaps because it was normal for a man to look at a woman when they were making love?
    But the fantasy was over and still he looked. She averted her gaze for a minute, then looked right back. Her embarrassment eased. Her chin came up a notch. She knew that he couldn’t possibly know her thoughts. And if he did, what of it? She was an adult. She was free to dream as she saw fit.
    That brought her to the fantasy’s bottom line. She would be swept off her feet by Tall-Dark-and-Handsome, swept up, up and away from the hassles of her life, but there would be no strings attached. She could come and go as she pleased. She would feel neither responsibility nor guilt. No restrictions. No little complications.
    It sounded divine.
    But there was another sound just then. She swung her head around. Her telephone. She glanced back at the stranger. He didn’t move. The phone rang again. She wasn’t sure whether he could hear the ring, but on the chance that he could, she had to answer it. Pushing herself up, she crossed the floor in resignation.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œGladys?” asked an elderly male voice.
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œIs this Gladys?”
    She couldn’t believe it. “You must have the wrong number.”
    â€œOh,” said the man, “I’m sorry.”
    No problem , she thought with a sigh as she hung up the phone. Her hand remained on the receiver for a minute, thumb rubbing across its smooth grip. Then, straightening her shoulders, she crossed to the side of the room where she would be out of sight. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. She curved one hand around her neck. Then, trying to be—feel—nonchalant, she worked her way back to the window. When she reached it, she stopped. She took one baby step, then another. With her hand still on her neck in a thoughtful pose, she turned her head and peeked out.
    He was gone.

2
    Caroline returned to work the next morning feeling refreshed. A thunderstorm at midnight had brought relief from the heat. Thanks to the ceiling fan, her apartment had cooled nicely and she’d been able to get a solid seven hours of sleep. She didn’t mind that the temperature was again on the rise. Her office was cool. She’d face the loft later.
    Every one of her morning appointments showed up, and on time. There were several tough sessions, but nothing as frustrating as what she’d faced the day before. Given that bit of encouragement, she decided against running out for lunch. Instead, she sat at her desk, opened a carton of yogurt and put through a call to her mother, who had been at the back of her mind since she’d woken up. Experience told her that the guilt she felt about not calling sooner was worse than the call itself would be.
    Naturally, there were explanations to be made; Madeline Cooper was slightly miffed. “I was hoping you’d call back last night, Caroline. I didn’t get a wink of sleep.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Mother.”
    â€œYou must have been out very late.”
    â€œI didn’t get in until ten—”
    â€œBut that was only nine here. You could have called.”
    â€œâ€”and I was exhausted,” Caroline went on. “I wouldn’t have been much good to you.”
    â€œYou could have called and told me that. I spent the night worrying about you, on top of everything else.”
    Caroline might have reminded her mother that she was thirty-one, that she’d