OVERPROTECTED by Jennifer Laurens Read Free Book Online Page A

and a wave of perfume, Mother sashayed in. “Knock, knock…”

    She surveyed the area with a smile. “I just wanted to make sure everything was satisfactory.”

    “It’s fine, thanks,” Colin said.

    Floating directly to his suitcase, her long fingers combed through his wardrobe. “This will never do. Ashlyn cannot be seen with anything less than a man who is completely put together. If Socialite got a photo of this… well. We’ll shop this afternoon. Meet me at three o’clock in the main foyer.” She grazed past him, her shoulder brushing his arm as she swiveled to the door. A trickle of discomfort and embarrassment caused me to itch at her behavior. She paused, grinned. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s just like old times, isn’t it?”

    With some major exceptions—like the fact that Colin and I weren’t kids anymore.

    Mother swiveled out the door.

    Colin’s cheeks had pinked from Mother’s visit. He scratched the back of his head, something I’d seen him do before when he seemed uncomfortable. “Is she serious about taking me clothes shopping?”

    His voice squeaked.

    I suppressed a smile. Why did his discomfort cause me to feel vindicated somehow? “I’m afraid she is.”

    Colin glanced at the jeans and blue sweater he wore. “I’ve been told I have lame taste in clothes.”

    “Mother’s very particular.” She was more than particular. She was an unabashed snob about what she wore, Daddy wore, and I wore.

    Anyone seen with us—who she could control—wouldn’t be seen in anything less than designer perfection.

    “Wow.” Colin shrugged. “Okay then.” His grin sparkled like a rising sun. “You’ll come, right?”

CHAPTER FIVE

    The melody arranged itself in my mind.

    After pulling on my pink robe, I secured my hair in a claw at the back of my head. It was past midnight, the grandfather clock chimed two. But I had to play.

    The music room welcomed me, its double doors spread wide like open arms. After entering, I closed them, even though the music would carry. The need to play pulsed through my veins, and I abandoned concern for satisfaction. Thoughts of the day rambled through my mind flashing pictures of Colin, of being out in the city. I couldn’t remember when I’d had so much fun shopping. No traces of the old Colin seemed to exist. Even though Mother preened and primped and fluttered around him like a peacock, he had patiently endured her hours of insistence that he try on dozens of pieces.

    He’d been accommodating, charming and agreeable. I’d watched with speechless admiration.

    My fingers tapped over the cool ivory keys. Music filled the room now: a slow, delicate melody that forced me to close my eyes and completely submit to wherever the tune took me. Images of Colin filled my thoughts, spun around my heart, and flowed to my fingertips, a melody so overpowering I dismissed any negative thoughts attempting to enter my mind. My heart lured me in a mysterious direction, and Colin was at its center. Tonight, I was willing to go there.

    So taken by the sweetness of the creation, I was startled by a movement when at last I opened my eyes. My fingers stalled.

    Colin.

    He wore black sweats and a long sleeved tee shirt in black, the color electrifying. With the hushed stealth of a panther, he crossed to the piano.

    “That was amazing,” he whispered.

    Flustered, I quickly tapped Fur Elise on the keys.

    “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were done.”

    “I… I am.” I felt exposed—naked. He’d witnessed something so deeply personal, something he had been the inspiration for. Could he see that? The idea flushed me with embarrassment.

    He came closer, as if wanting to see for himself the keys I used to create. “Keep playing. Please.”

    I took a deep breath. I reached for some sheet music paper to make notes, wishing he’d leave but glad he was there at the same time.

    “How do you do that—create like that?”

    “I just hear it.”

    “I