Waiting For You Read Free Page B

in the knees but to gain her trust and represent her.
    She repositioned herself on the chair, pulling her shoulders back primly as she faced him. “I have searched a long time to find you. You are the only person who can help me.”
    What an odd thing to say. The urgency in her tone made him curious. It was in total contradiction to her outward, ice-queen appearance. “Really?” he asked. “Why do you think I’m the only person who can help?”
    “I don’t think , Mr. Marshal. I know .”
    Nick cocked a skeptical brow. “How do you know?”
    A flash of hesitation, or perhaps embarrassment, skirted across her face. “My maternal grandmother,” Miss Carlisle paused to draw a short breath, “—told me that one day I would find the man who could help me.”
    Nick should be amused at the absurdity of her story, but instead the little she’d said so far—and the desperate pleading in her voice—intrigued him. “And she actually said my name?”
    “Well, not exactly,” Miss Carlisle replied, “but it was close enough. She gave the initials N.M., and she said you would be a solicitor.”
    “Solicitor? When you use that word, you are referring to an attorney?”
    She shrugged, her head bobbing to the right. “They mean the same thing, do they not?”
    Disturbing tingles crawled up his back, the sort of sixth-sense sensation one experiences while walking through a cemetery in the pitch dark of night or after a scary movie. Nick shook off the feeling. Was her grandmother some kind of fortune-teller? “So how do you know N.M. is me?”
    “She was a gypsy—a spiritual woman in her day.”
    “All right, but how do you know I’m the man she had spoken about?”
    Finally, a timid smile touched her mouth. “Because you are talking to me right now.”
    He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand, Miss Carlisle.”
    She closed her eyes as though in pain. “I knew explaining my situation,” she spoke the words carefully, as though testing its meaning, “would be difficult, but I’m at quite a loss for how to clarify myself.”
    “Please try, Miss Carlisle, because you have me confused. Why exactly do you need an attorn — er , a solicitor? And why do you believe I’m the man your grandmother spoke of?” More to the point, why are you dressed like someone from the Titanic? The last question would have to wait until he ascertained her reason for seeking him out.
    Her breathing quickened as a touch of trepidation touched her stony expression. “Mr. Marshal, the reason I know you’re the man who can help is because you—you can…” She cleared her throat. “You can actually see me.”
    Nick stifled a chuckle. “Of course I can see you. You’re sitting right in front of me.”
    “True, but your lady friend could not.”
    He silently cursed Vanessa again. “I don’t think my friend was paying much attention at that moment.”
    “When she walked into the room first, she looked my way, but she didn’t see me.”
    He flipped his hand. “I do apologize for that. Vanessa can be a little self-absorbed at times.”
    “No, you don’t understand. The reason she couldn’t see me is because, well…” Her blue eyes locked on his with something akin to fear shadowing their depths. It brought about a surge of protectiveness Nick was not entirely used to experiencing, especially with a woman he just barely met.
    “I’m a ghost,” she ended in a whisper.
    Nick’s jaw dropped. “Did you say…ghost?”
    She nodded.
    He scrutinized Miss Carlisle’s solemn expression and decided there were only three possibilities. She was either telling the truth (not likely), completely and utterly insane (which he hoped not), or pulling some kind of joke on him.
    Nick’s mind settled on the third option. Vanessa had known exactly where and when to find him, which meant Steve and Travis must know, too. Nick had a sneaking suspicion this was his fraternity brother’s way of welcoming him to his new life.