Picture Perfect Read Free

cease to be amazed that she returned his feelings. A man could search his life through for the right woman and never find her, but he’d found Sara and she was perfect. She fulfilled his every need. There seemed no amount of energy and caring that Sara would not put forth for his happiness. She had even interrupted her career as an English literature professor to bear him a son. At the time, she had been thirty-nine years old. He knew it had been no small concession on her part to make their union even more perfect.
    Desire, hot and potent, coursed through him as he turned the key to light the fire. Sara would return in exactly the amount of time it would take him to shower, dry off and put on the bathrobe she’d bought him for his birthday.
    Â 
    Sara descended the long, circular staircase. Halfway down she called softly, “It’s all right, Mr. Sanders. I’m just coming down to lock up and get a drink for my husband and myself.”
    Stuart Sanders waited at the bottom of the steps. His appraising, businesslike gaze took in the woman’s cool blond beauty and her regal bearing. He could appreciate her neutral tone of voice. He wasn’t a servant, or even a family friend; he was an acquaintance and Mrs. Taylor addressed him as such. It was acceptable.
    â€œI’ll stay with you, Mrs. Taylor, until you go back upstairs.”
    Sara recognized the order behind the words. “Of course, Mr. Sanders.”
    Stuart followed her from one end of the house to the other as she checked the locks and turned off the lights. Even though he had locked up himself, she’d explained that the nightly ritual helped her to sleep better. He waited in the doorway of the den while she retrieved a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine from the built-in bar fridge. They weren’t just glasses, he told himself, they were antique wine goblets and the wine was one of those fifty-dollar-a-bottle varieties.
    He felt no envy as he surveyed the expensively appointed room. The whole house reflected Sara Taylor’s conservative style and exacting taste. It was totally unlike his own place, where the furnishings—bought one at a time—never seemed to match. The clink of the crystal echoed through the room as Sara prepared to go back upstairs. There was nothing personal in Stuart’s gaze at her. She looked like a sophisticated movie actress in her ivory satin robe and slippers. Too thin for his tastes. He liked a little more flesh on his women. Besides that, he’d never cared much for blondes; Sara’s smooth delicate complexion lacked the vibrant flush he preferred.
    Sara’s sister, on the other hand, Lorrie—now there was a woman. She was just the opposite of Sara in coloring and temperament. On top of that she was unattached. He’d liked her the moment he’d met her.
    â€œWould you get the lights for me, Mr. Sanders?”
    â€œSure. Can I help you carry any of that?” Stuart offered.
    â€œIt’s quite all right, I can manage. I like doing things for my husband. It’s all part of being a good wife.” She smiled at him, her widening lips and soft tone belied by her expressionless eyes.
    Stuart Sanders returned to his position in front of the television screen. He didn’t like Sara Taylor. She was cold. Icy. At first he’d thought she was only that way with him, but then he’d realized she acted like that with everybody, and worse with her sister.
    Sibling rivalry, he thought. Maybe there was something in their past that had come between them. Whatever the reason, it was none of his business. His business was to protect the Taylors, not get involved in their lives.
    Maybe after the trial, when he wasn’t on assignment, he could ask Lorrie out.
    Â 
    â€œYou’re something, honey,” Andrew said, taking the wine bottle from her. “Right on schedule. I just this minute stepped from the shower.”
    Sara laughed, a warm rich sound