Eternally Yours Read Free Page B

Though his drab attire obscured his physique, a long, easy stride showed he was in shape befitting a relative of Geoff’s. In fact, the ghost rather thought he saw a bit of himself in the man’s sweep of black hair and wide-set brown eyes. The mortal’s nose was stronger and straighter, but he rested easy, knowing that the fair sex had always admired his own rather delicate nose.
    As he watched his flesh-and-blood counterpart climb up to the porch and rap at the door, he wished with all his soul that he could trade places--but he couldn’t. What would he do if his descendant managed to get where he himself could not with the divorcee? He wondered if there were any possibility he could enjoy the experience vicariously.
    The twinge of distaste he felt at the thought told him it wasn’t likely.
    To Geoff’s displeasure, the mortal opened the door himself, signifying some degree of intimacy with the divorcee.
    “Lara?” he called.
    So her name was Lara. He had wondered what to call her. That her name should be similar to that of Petrarch’s Laura seemed fitting, for Geoff could imagine this woman being his own earthly muse...if only he could still write. As it was he had no access to an ethereal pen and paper, and he couldn’t usually manipulate physical objects unless in a fit of extreme rage.
    After a moment’s hesitation the mortal Vereker let himself in, stepping slowly, clearly tentative.
    Geoff made a wry face. The fellow must not have been on completely familiar terms with the lady, despite seeming somewhat expectant of a welcome.
    “I’m sorry,” a feminine voice sang out from a room beyond. “Here I am.”
    The ghost followed his descendant into a barren drawing room. The lady emerged from a door in the back, and Geoff gaped. She was even more lovely than he had remembered.
    On the upper half of her body, she wore a sleeveless bodice, fitted closely enough to demarcate the pertness of her breasts. Her eyes were among the bluest he’d ever seen. He had always liked the way her golden curls suggested a hairstyle more attuned to his century than the current one. But what truly tormented him now was the glory of her legs, flaunted under a pair of those shockingly short pantaloons that modern women wore in warm weather. Good Lord, but he wished he had been born a century later!
    Biting his fist, he forced himself to stand back so as not to give her a blast of unexpected coldness. But if he’d had any doubt before, he felt certain now that he couldn’t bear to see his mortal counterpart have her when he could not.
    The fellow was--for some unimaginable reason--observing the ceiling. He pulled his gaze down and nodded to the lady.
    Geoff frowned at the indifferent greeting. Didn’t his descendant know that a man should always make a woman feel like she was the sole object of his attention?
    In return the lady flashed him a smile that made her face radiant and--Geoff thought with pain--boded well for the recipient.
    His descendant didn’t even seem to notice, looking back up at the ceiling. As he observed some unfathomable feature of interest there, the fool actually strode away from her into the center of the room.
    Geoff stared, amazed that it looked as though he might be spared the anguish of further jealousy after all. What was wrong with this fellow? Could it be that he was dutifully leg-shackled? But no, a glance at his left hand showed he wore no wedding band.
    Uncertain what to think of the mortal, Geoff resolved to stay and watch what transpired. The fellow was now turning about the room, apparently surveying the walls. Though he seemed disinterested in the lady, Geoff would not take any chances. If his descendant made a move on his Lara, he swore he would foil the man’s efforts.
    * * * *
    Mark Vereker made a slow pass around the parlor, only half-seeing the antique crown molding he meant to study. The proximity of Lara Peale behind him was too distracting for him to concentrate on anything. She