Guilty Passion by Laurey Bright Read Free Book Online Page A

get a real reaction from you.”
    She blinked. A flicker of apprehension shadowed her eyes. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
    â€œNever mind,” he said abruptly. “The bed will be made up. I phoned and asked Mrs. Jackson to prepare the room. And you’ll no doubt find she’s put clean towels in the bathroom for you. She’ll have left milk for us, too. Would you like a drink of something?”
    â€œI know it’s early, but I’d rather like to have a bath and go to bed,” Celeste said. “If that’s all right.” The bed looked very comfortable and inviting, and it held no bitter memories.
    â€œFine.” Ethan shrugged. “If you need anything, just yell down the stairs.”
    â€œThank you. You’re very kind, Ethan.”
    He turned on his way out, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Don’t count on it,” he said briefly.
    She refused to examine the implications of that, as she unpacked a nightdress and light cotton wrap. In the bathroom, attractive and functional in pale green and apricot, she found fluffy apricot-pink towels folded over a rail with a discreet bronze plaque above it inscribed, “Guests.” The green ones on another rail were for Ethan, she supposed.
    A small basket on the counter held sachets of shampoo and conditioner, some bath salts and a shower cap. It seemed that Ethan was prepared for female guests. She wondered how often he entertained a woman, and quelled the thought as she ran hot water into the pale green bath.
    After a luxurious soak in the tub, she returned to the other room feeling pleasantly relaxed. The bed was as comfortable as she had expected, and it faced the windows. Outside the room a wide balcony ran the length of the house. She had left the curtains undrawn, so that the last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was the starry sky outside. The sound of the waves washing an unseen beach lulled her to sleep.
    When she woke the sun was streaming in on the bed. Except for the night that Aunt Ellie had pressed a sleeping pill on her, she hadn’t slept so well for ages.
    She lay for a few minutes just watching the restless blue water outside and the tips of the trees that she could see. Then she threw aside the covers and went barefoot to push open the sliding glass door and step out onto the balcony.
    The house was about halfway up a steep slope that was covered in a thick press of green trees and bushes broken by splashes of colour—purple bougainvillea, scarlet hibiscus, and yellow ginger plants with red stamens and large, floppy green leaves. There was oleander and sweet-scented frangipani, too. Leaning over the railing, she could see that outside the living area was a large terrace, on which stood a wrought iron table and chairs and a sun lounger. Steps led from the terrace to a path that disappeared into the trees. The beach was not visible from here, but no doubt the path would end there. There must be a beach. She could hear the murmur and swish of water, but the waves didn’t thunder as they had at the spot where Alec. . .
    Shutting out the thought, she stepped back into the bedroom. There was no sign of Ethan as she used the bathroom, although the door of the room next to hers was ajar. At the end of a short passageway, another door was firmly closed. Perhaps he was working. A glance at her watch had showed her that it was near ten o’clock.
    She dressed in a white shirt, blue denim skirt and sandals, and tied back her hair with an elastic band. The air was warm and very pleasant. She went down the stairs and found a covered tray and a note placed in a prominent position on the long, low table in the living room.
    Help yourself
, said the note.
And make yourself at home. Coffee in the kitchen. I’ve gone to get supplies and collect mail. Back before twelve
.
    Under the cover was a glass of fresh orange juice, a bowl of wheat flake cereal, with a small jug of milk, some