Deadly Illusions by Brenda Joyce Read Free Book Online Page A

room with several beds, all unoccupied except for hers, he saw that she was sitting up against her pillows, flipping through Harper’s Weekly. His heart quickened impossibly. She wore one of her own peignoirs, lavender silk and cream lace, and even crippled, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
    She realized he was standing there, staring, and she looked up, slowly putting the magazine aside.
    He somehow smiled. He was perspiring now. So many emotions ran riot that he had more trouble breathing, thinking. The most dominant feelings were vast relief and crushing guilt.
    â€œGood morning,” he heard himself say.
    She carefully returned his smile. “Good morning.” Leigh Anne was a petite woman, barely five feet tall, with the face of a china doll. Her perfect features—large green eyes, tiny nose and rosebud mouth—were accentuated by a delicate ivory complexion. Her hair was thick, silken, straight and black. Noman could enter a room where she was present and not look twice and then stare.
    He noticed several new flower arrangements on the window-sill.
    She followed his gaze. “Rourke came last night.”
    â€œIn the middle of the week?” His half brother was attending medical school in Philadelphia.
    â€œApparently he has applied for a transfer to the Bellevue Medical College and he has an interview this afternoon.”
    Rick nodded, unable to focus on his half brother’s plans. “How are you today?” he said, pulling up a chair and sitting by her side.
    She never looked directly at him anymore, it seemed. Her gaze on Rourke’s yellow hothouse roses, she said, “Fine.”
    He wanted to reach over and take her tiny hands in his. And in spite of all the passion they had once shared, he did not dare touch her. He was afraid that she would reject him—as she should. “You must be so pleased to be going home today.”
    She seemed to smile but she did not answer, her gaze now wandering to the magazine on the bed. Idly, she pulled it closer to her hip.
    Ever since the accident, it had become like this, an utter failure of communication, utter awkwardness. He was sweating now. He wanted to pull her against his chest and stroke her hair and beg her for forgiveness, but of course he did not. At least, thank God, she was coming home. “I will come by at four or five, if that suits you,” he said.
    She slowly looked up, her expression very hard to read.
    â€œThe girls are terribly excited,” he added, trying to smile. But he was a policeman, and before that a lawyer, and he knew when something was wrong.
    â€œYou didn’t bring them this morning,” she said softly, clearly dismayed.
    Katie and Dot were two orphans who were fostering with them, and whom he intended to adopt. He had brought them tovisit Leigh Anne every day. “You will see them this afternoon,” he said, smiling with an effort.
    She turned her head away.
    Alarm mingled with dread.
    Then, not looking at him, she said, “I’m afraid it’s far too soon for me to go home.”
    He started. Then, in an uncharacteristic rush, “The doctors think it would be best. I’ve hired two nurses to attend you round the clock. The girls are expecting you. I am expecting you!” he heard himself cry.
    Her jaw hardened visibly and she looked him in the eye and repeated, “I’m afraid it’s too soon for me to go home, Rick.”
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    â€œA RE YOU CERTAIN THAT you don’t want to go inside?” Francesca asked, teasing.
    She stood with Joel on Mulberry Street just outside of police headquarters. Joel was slouched with his hands in the pockets of his trousers, which had holes at both knees. He had plopped a black felt cap on his head, and he scowled at the two front doors of the station house. Roundsmen in their blue wool uniforms and leather helmets were coming and going, a police wagon was parked not far from where they stood and