Remember the Dreams Read Free

returned to the main level, an uncomfortable thought accompanied her. She'd seen a couple of guest rooms downstairs. So where had Kyle put her things? Was the "last room on the left" his room?
    "Toni?" Kyle's voice was muffled by the maze of walls separating them.
    Telling herself that she was being ridiculous for even entertaining such an idea, she followed the sound of that deep, resonant voice. She moved down the wide hallway, peeking into rooms as she went, and stopped at the end of the hall.
    Her luggage was sitting inside a large, comfortable room to her left. Kyle was standing in the one to her right.
    She didn't realize that she'd been holding her breath until she let it out. At the same time, she rubbed her clammy palms down the sides of her skirt. Of course Kyle had given her her own room. What had ever made her think otherwise?
    Turning, she leaned against the doorjamb to watch Kyle.
    He'd taken off his jacket, and his white shirt had been pulled free of his slacks. Judging from the way its tails hung loosely around his lean hips, the front of it was unbuttoned.
    "Nice place," she observed, her eyes on the suitcase he'd laid on his bed—a large circular bed that seemed to dominate the room. "Were you dating an interior decorator?"
    "No," he returned, dropping several pairs of jockey shorts into the suitcase. "I hired one. Is your room ok?"
    Why did the sight of that bed make her so uncomfortable? Deciding that it was less unnerving to stare at the wrinkles in his shirttail, she replied, "It's perfect. How long will you be gone?" She didn't want to talk about bedrooms.
    "Four days." A stack of neatly folded shirts joined the jockey shorts. "I'm giving a training seminar in Chicago. Come on in."
    He turned then, moving toward the sliding glass mirrors of his closet.
    Toni's mouth went dry.
    His shirt was unbuttoned. Her blue eyes riveted to the crisp black hair covering the hard contours of his broad chest. The only direction she could seem to make them move in was down, and she followed that tapering line over his flat stomach to where the swirls disappeared beneath the waistband of his slacks.
    Toni had only seen Kyle in his expensively tailored suits, or, at the very least, in an open-collared sport shirt and slacks. But even her vivid imagination hadn't done justice to his physical perfection.
    Good heavens, Toni, she chided herself. He's just your average Greek god, so stop staring at him like this.
    Admonishment was one thing. Practicing what she was preaching to herself was another matter entirely.
    There was something terribly intimate about watching him like this—with him apparently quite comfortable with her presence—and a warm tingling seemed to center in the pit of her stomach.
    Kyle reached into the closet, then glanced back over his shoulder. "Come on in," he repeated, indicating a wide doorway with a nod of his dark head. "The hot tub's in there. I want to show you how to turn it on before I go."
    She couldn't move. Her hands felt clammy again, and her legs didn't want to cooperate with the command her apparently addled brain was giving them.
    Seeing her apprehensive expression, Kyle walked toward her. Obviously he'd mistaken the reason for her reticence. "It's not that complicated," he chuckled, taking her hand and leading her across the springy carpet. "It's just a switch and a couple of buttons."
    His hand felt so warm, so strong, and Toni tried her best to ignore the staccato shocks racing up her arm. She caught a whiff of his faintly spicy aftershave mingling with the heat of his body, the scent adding a frightening awareness to her. already muddled senses.
    It had to be fatigue. That was the only plausible explanation for why she should be reacting like this. Days that began at 5:00 a.m. when the exchange opened on the East Coast and didn't end until 10:00 at night after a meeting with a prospective investor were bound to catch up with her sooner or later. Rest. That's what she needed. Just a