Promises in the Night: A Classic Romance - Book 2 by Barbara Bretton Read Free Book Online Page A

Rikki’s death he’d been with more women than he cared to think about, trying to negate his anger and rage with mindless, meaningless sex. However, not one of those women—charming, accomplished and desirable though they might have been—had come close to reaching the part of him that Larkin Walker had so effortlessly reached today.
    It had been a very long time since he felt as alive as he had that afternoon when Larkin looked into his eyes. He couldn’t remember when he last felt that sweet surge of possibility flooding his senses. A secret part of his heart had stopped beating when Rikki died; today the muscles began to flex themselves again, as if daring him to accept the challenge.
    And despite his years of experience delving into the secrets of the human heart, for the second time in his life, Alex Jakobs was scared.

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    A lex dreamed that night , his first dream in weeks.
    Rikki was sitting on the edge of their bed, the pale yellow telephone dangling from her hand. He saw again the look of horror on her face, saw the image of death, sharp and clear, surrounding them both.
    He wanted to touch her, but in his dream he couldn’t move quickly enough. Those beautiful golden eyes of hers watched as he struggled. In the end, though, she was lost, as they both knew she would be.
    He woke up with a start, his heart thundering in his chest like a runaway train. He touched his face and felt tears hot against his skin, and he wondered why he was crying.
    He remembered no dream at all; the only thing he remembered was the feeling of impotent rage. His heart ached as if it had been torn apart by his own hands in an effort to save himself from a pain greater than he could bear.

Chapter 4
    T he first things Larkin did when she got to the Learning Center the next morning were to plug in the coffee maker in the reception area and kick off her wet shoes. Patti wasn’t due in until nine, and the rest of the staff would arrive at noon; she was glad to have time alone before the usual madness began.
    She’d stayed awake until nearly three, sitting before her fireplace and letting her mind play with the notion of Alex Jakobs. When she finally did fall asleep, her dreams had been voluptuous—so real that her body knew the touch of Alex’s hand upon it, and she awoke feeling as if she had turned a corner into a strange neighborhood.
    The coffee maker began to brew, and she shrugged out of her soggy raincoat. She started down the hallway to hang the coat in the bathroom when she heard a muffled tap-tap from the classroom near the staircase.
    She pushed open the swinging door.
    “Gordon! I thought today was your day off.” She smiled up at the young man who was perched atop a rickety wooden ladder, putting the finishing touches on some ceiling repairs. “What are you doing here?”
    Carpenters nails were clenched between his teeth, and he dropped them into the palm of his hand. “When I heard the rain start up again this morning, I figured I’d better knock off the rest of the job.” He pushed a strand of black hair off his forehead with the side of his hand. “I’ll be done in ten minutes.” He turned back to his work as if embarrassed to have been caught in the act.
    “I don’t want to rush you,” Larkin said, acutely aware of the young man’s discomfort. “Take all the time you need. This is certainly above and beyond the call of duty.” She had fully expected to hire a professional roofer to take care of the problem. Gordon’s expertise was a pleasant surprise. “Why don’t you come down off your ladder and have a cup of coffee with me?” She motioned toward the window that looked out on the dreary, rain-swept parking lot. “Certainly this weather warrants a cup.”
    “Thanks, Ms. Walker,” he said, his eyes intent upon his work, “but I think I’d better get this done before it rains any harder.”
    “If it rains any harder, we’ll be washed into the Atlantic Ocean.”
    Gordon smiled but said nothing,