Dangerous Lover Read Free Page A

bookshop, with a high, beamed ceiling, hardwood floor with what looked like expensive rugs scattered around, pinewood shelves and tables with bestsellers on them. The harp music had given way to an a cappella choir of women’s voices singing madrigals. Over the smell of her—soap, shampoo, and the scent of roses that haunted his nights—he could smell potpourri, candle wax and resin from the small Christmas tree decorated with miniature books standing in a big red ceramic pot in the corner.
    The entire shop was warm and welcoming, a delight to all the senses.
    Jack had good peripheral vision and kept looking around until she visibly relaxed. He turned back to her. “Very nice bookshop. My compliments.”
    Her lips turned up in a slight smile. “Thank you. And it’s not usually so deserted. I was expecting a Christmas Eve rush for all the lazybones who haven’t bought their presents yet, but the weather has kept everyone indoors.”
    Jack tried not to frown and look disapproving. What was the matter with her? Jesus, the last thing she should do when alone with a man was point out just how alone they were.
    She’d always been like that, too trusting.
    Once, in the shelter, old man McMurty, doped up on God knows what shit he’d scored on the streets, had sidled up to her when she’d smiled at him.
    Jack knew what McMurty was like when he was high. The filthy fucker would have put his hands on Caroline if Jack hadn’t blocked him. After Caroline left, Jack had shoved McMurty up against the wall, showed him the Bowie knife he’d shoplifted and promised McMurty that if he even so much as breathed in Caroline’s direction, ever again, he could kiss his balls good-bye.
    Jack had meant every word.
    Pretty, slender ringless hands opened wide. “Can I help you with something? We have a fairly good selection, and I can order anything you want if we don’t stock it. It takes about a week to arrive.” She smiled up at him.
    She was a woman now. A stunningly beautiful woman, whose face showed the sorrows she’d suffered. The chatty taxicab driver had told him all about Caroline and the downfall of the Lakes. Jack had heard all about the car accident that had killed her parents and injured her little brother. The discovery at their death that Mr. Lake had been making bad investments, that there was no money to cover the hospital bills, with barely enough to pay for the double funeral. Then six years of caring for an invalid brother, only to lose him two months ago, saddling her with even more debts.
    All of that showed in her face. Faint lines starred her eyes, though they were still that haunting silver-gray color. She’d slimmed down even more. The young Caroline had had a lovely, open face with a perpetually sunny smile. This Caroline showed sorrow and serenity, the sunniness gone.
    And yet, Jack could still see the young Caroline, the heart of her—the lovely, gentle girl who’d befriended an outcast inside the beautiful woman who’d known heartache and grief.
    The young girl had haunted his days and nights. The woman in front of him nearly brought him to his knees.
    Christ, he was staring again, lost. She’d said something—something about books. He didn’t want books.
    “The sign,” he said.
    “I beg your pardon?” She swirled a lock of shiny red-gold hair behind a small ear. He’d seen her do it a hundred times.
    “You’ve got a sign at the front of the shop. ROOMS TO LET . Do you still have a room available?”
    It had been the motor-mouth taxi driver who’d told him that Caroline rented rooms to boarders to boost her income from the bookshop.
    Caroline looked at him for a long moment, clearly sizing him up. He couldn’t shrink and he couldn’t take a showerand shave and he couldn’t change his clothes right then. All he could do was remain motionless and keep his expression neutral. There was nothing he could say or do to convince her if she didn’t trust him enough to want him in her home. The