The Ghost of Christmas Present Read Free Page B

toward the fire. "Thank Hollywood for
that myth. But guys like Shakespeare and Dickens started the
rumor." A sudden mischievous urge overwhelmed him. "Would you
believe me if I looked like this?"
     
    Alane again choked on her wine and she
stared at her ghost through a blur of teary eyes. He rose from the
matching recliner clad in gray, skin tight knee breeches, hosiery,
and shoes with buckles. His heretofore short, yet shaggy hair was
several inches longer, pulled back in a que with a black ribbon. A
vest to mid-thigh and cutaway jacket finished the picture of a man
who could have signed the Constitution. With the flick of a lacy
cuff, he bowed.
    "I never powder my hair. Attracts
bugs."
    In the blink of an eye he wore a
Confederate officer's uniform, then a zoot suit, then a pair of
chinos and a tee shirt with a pack of cigarettes rolled in the
sleeve and hair slicked into a ducktail. He faded into bell-bottoms
and a tie-dyed shirt with below-the-shoulder hair, then ended in
loose cut jeans, logo tee shirt and a baseball hat on backwards.
Before she could breathe, he morphed back into his boot-cut jeans,
oxford shirt, and cabled crewneck sweater, as devastatingly
handsome in that simple attire as he’d been in all his other
personas. Too handsome for her own good.
    "Sorry," he shrugged with a smile that
was anything but sorry. "I don't get a chance to show off
much."
    Alane closed her mouth, wondering
vaguely how long it had been hanging open.
    "Poi...," she cleared her throat,
"...point well taken." She looked at her nearly empty wine glass,
then set it aside and pushed it further away. "How did
you...become...," she wiggled her fingers at him, at a loss for
words.
    "Heartbeat challenged?" he supplied.
She cringed on the inside and damned the wine for making her so
witty.
    She gave him a weak smile.
    "I don't need a demonstration, by the
way," she hastened to add.
    He lifted his head and grinned, but his
smile didn't have the usual megawatts behind it. He
sighed.
    "Oh, another time. Young mistress must
be sorely wearied from her lengthy journey. Retire to your
bedchamber and sleep well this night. We shall speak again on the
morrow."
    Slowly, very slowly, he stretched out a
hand toward her. When she forced herself not to back away he passed
his hand along her cheek. Instead of the cold, clammy feeling she
expected, her cheek felt as if a warm, summer breeze had kissed
it.
    Then he was gone. 
     
     
     

CHAPTER THREE
     
    Jared watched her sleep. The wine had
hastened that process, he was sure, but even at that she'd lain
awake far into the night, watching for someone who wouldn't allow
himself to be seen.
    Ah, but she was lovely. For the first
time in more years than he'd let himself count, he gave in to the
ache for the gentle touch of a woman. Just her touch. A finger on
his brow to swipe his hair from his eyes. Hands on his shoulders to
rub away the knots there. A loving palm on the cheek to remind him
to shave.
    He closed his eyes, imagining it, but
the mere thought hurt like a dull blade through the
breast.
    He moved to the bed and sank down
beside her. Focusing all his will, knowing it would cost him
strength, he concentrated and traced the tips of his fingers along
her jaw.
    Sweet Gabriel in heaven, the feel of
her shot through his soul like a drug. He held the connection,
savoring the moment, until his strength began to ebb.
    He left part of his soul behind when he
lifted his fingers from her face.
    Closing his eyes, he dropped his head
in denial. For nearly two centuries he had walked this earth alone,
at times feeling his loneliness, at times enjoying his solitude.
But during those years he'd remained constant in accepting his
fate. In life, he'd been unwilling to give of himself, and because
of that his wife and unborn child had died at his hands. He hadn’t
been able to give the ultimate gift - himself - and his wife had
died trying to love him anyway.
    He deserved the curse her mother had
laid upon him as