Waking Up To Love (Lakeside Porches Book 4) Read Free Page B

leg, rested her head against the banister behind her and soaked in the measured phrasing.
    Her eyes closed, and she puzzled about the respectful distance Kyle always maintained with her. He’s into my body, and he’s never made a move. Why?
    Half an hour later, when he started up to bed, Kyle found her on the stairs, asleep. He sat on the step below her and pressed his hand against the ache in his chest.
    So beautiful . Breathing through his pain, he watched her, silently, until he could trust his voice.
    “You’re lucky you didn’t take a tumble.” His teasing awakened her.
    She opened sleepy eyes and smiled.
    Those sapphire eyes . “Why didn’t you come into the library?” he asked.
    “It was such beautiful music.” She tugged at the collar of the soft, linen shirt poking above his merino crewneck. Her lips moved with some unspoken thought. Her eyes met his and quickly shied away. “I couldn’t bear to interrupt,” was all she said.
    He swallowed his disappointment and put on a brave face. “Hogwash. How could it be beautiful if it put you to sleep?” They laughed. “Up with you. We need an early start for the airport.”
    He stood tall and reached a hand to her.
    With a sigh, she took his hand and rose to her feet. They walked side-by-side to the top of the stairs.
    “Sleep well, luv.”
    “You as well, Kyle,” she whispered when they parted ways.
    “Pennington, you’re a damn fool,” Kyle muttered to himself and anyone else in the vicinity of Gatwick’s international terminal. An Air India flight just lifting off snagged his last word and screamed fool across the sky.
    Hands stuffed in the pockets of his cashmere coat, he turned into the wind and headed back across the car park. After a few chilly steps, he turned up his collar and held the lapels tight by his throat. The motion released Lyssa’s scent.
    Lily of the valley and roses tantalized his nose and filled his head. He wanted to kick himself. “You could have stopped her.”
    A passerby gave him a sympathetic look and a wide berth.
    Exactly right, sir. I’ve lost my mind.
    Lyssa had sniffled all the way to the airport. As they’d pulled in to the curb, he’d told her, stupidly, for perhaps the seventh time, “It’s your dream, luv. You need to chase your dreams.” He’d hauled her bags out of the trunk and signaled a porter to help. Then he’d pulled her close, so close he’d nearly lost himself, nearly told her to stay and to marry him and have babies with him and grow old together.
    If she’d said yes, it would be the end of her career. You knew that.
    So, instead, he’d backed away, straightened her pink paisley scarf, landed one gentle kiss on her perfect pink lips, and said, “Safe flight, luv.” It was absolutely the right thing for a thirty-six-year-old man to say to a vivacious twenty-six-year-old just starting her career.
    Well, wasn’t it?
    Lyssa apparently hadn’t agreed. She had searched his eyes with her intense blue gaze until tears welled up and spilled over. “I think I’m in love with you, Kyle,” she’d choked out.
    Startled, he’d lost his grip on her arms, stood open-mouthed with horror, and bloody let her go. She’d fled into the terminal and been swallowed up by the throng of departing passengers.
    In a fit of insanity, mindful of the bobbies patrolling every square foot of curbside, he’d driven to the short-stay car park, grabbed a space, and come back for her. But she must have finished with check-in already and cleared security, for she was nowhere to be found, and her cell was switched off.
    There was nothing for it but to keep trying her cell while he stood in the cold wind, watching planes take off, and running up a charge in the short stay.
    When he was too chilled to take any more, he headed for his car, only to stop halfway down a row, turn back and shade his eyes. A British Air jumbo jet thrust itself into the air. The whine of jet engines and the stench of fuel assaulted him. He