Fairytale by MAGGIE SHAYNE Read Free Book Online

him the jolt he needed to
bring his gaze up where it belonged. To her face.
    But then his mouth went dry. A fist seemed to
drive itself into his gut, forcing all the air from his lungs in a
harsh, noisy exhale. Because she was incredible, and because her
eyes sucked him in like quicksand, and because he had the oddest
feeling that he knew her. Or should know her. Or...or something.
    Her eyes were hidden behind small round
wire-rims, but they were still huge and dark and exotically
slanted. The glasses did nothing to conceal their almond shape or
invisible power. Ebony. He couldn’t tell the pupils from the
irises. A fringe of paintbrush-thick lashes surrounded them. Like
black holes surrounded by cilia. They would entrap and absorb
everything that came too close, and there would be no escape.
    He blinked and shook himself, feeling awkward
and even a little dizzy. As if he’d had a few too many drinks.
Which made no sense at all, since he’d had nothing stronger than
coffee.
    What the hell was the matter with him,
anyway?
    “Mr. Reid?”
    He cleared his throat and told himself to get
his act together. “Yes. What can I do for you?”
    “I’d like to enroll in your class.”
    Several answers sprang to mind, the first and
most obvious being that she ought to be in the admissions office
and not in his classroom. The second being that she ought to be
anywhere in the goddamn universe other than his classroom.
    But what he said was, “Sorry. This class is
full. Check back next semester.” If he didn’t know better, he’d
almost think he was afraid of her. All five feet and possibly
100-pounds-soaking-wet of her.
    When her gaze fell in apparent
disappointment, he was finally able to look away from the eyes that
had seemed to envelop him and hold him captive. To distance
himself, take in the full picture of her face. Like stepping back
for a better view of that painting he’d found at the Capricorn.
Exactly like that. So much like that, he shivered
involuntarily.
    Her face was heart-shaped. Her hair, endless
cascades of riotous, gleaming black curls. She could have been any
age, nineteen to thirty-nine. Impossible to tell. One delicate hand
rose, and she fingered the pendant she wore, moving it back and
forth on its chain.
    She was nervous.
    “It’s very important that I take this class,”
she said, and her voice reminded him of water chuckling over
stones. Deep and smooth and refreshing. But he wasn’t too entranced
by it not to notice the silt of desperation stirring beneath the
surface.
    “Why?”
    “I’m...” She lifted her chin, met his eyes
again. “I’m...it doesn’t matter...”
    Her words trailed off, and she averted her
eyes almost guiltily.
    “This is going to sound like a line,” he said
slowly, ignoring every warning bell going off in his head, though
they were damn near deafening. “But I have the feeling I know you.
Have we met?”
    “No.”
    When she wasn’t looking at him, his
equilibrium seemed to function just fine. “Now how can you be so
sure? You haven’t even told me your name.”
    She shook her head slowly, her raven hair
falling over her face. “What does it matter? The class is full.”
She started to turn away.
    And he felt an inexplicable urgency not to
let her go. “Wait a minute,” he said, and she stopped. “Look, you
never know when someone will drop out. Give me your name. Your
phone number...”
    She lifted her gaze to his, and he went
tongue-tied all over again, and was forced to let his words trail
off.
    “I know I’ve seen you before...somewhere,” he
whispered.
    She narrowed those gleaming black eyes on
him, and this time he got the feeling it was she who couldn’t look
away. He felt her try, then surrender. She stared into his eyes,
and then a tiny frown appeared between her dark brows, and she
stared harder. Adam experienced the most peculiar sensation
of... invasion.
    And then her eyes widened.
    Adam snapped his fingers and pointed at her.
“Aha! You