Sleepless in Savannah by Rita Herron Read Free Book Online

had had without him.
    Even if her face cracked in two from all the phony smiling.

Chapter 4

     
    Lance tossed and turned all night on Sophie's lumpy sofa, wishing he'd let one of his hired hands handle this renovation job, but for some reason he hadn't wanted to relinquish the project to anyone else. Maybe he didn't trust them to preserve the historical details. Or maybe he was afraid one of his work crew would wind up in Sophie's bed.
    No. Sophie had nothing to do with it. He liked doing renovations; that was how he'd gotten his start in the business.
    He rolled sideways, wincing as a pain shot through his lower back. Sophie's four-poster queen-size bed beckoned. It had to be more comfortable than the faded sofa, which was too short for his legs and too hard on his lumbar region. But her room also smelled like Sophie, and he could not imagine sliding between her sheets without imagining sliding Sophie beneath him, and that was not going to happen tonight or any other time in this century.
    Damn it, he couldn't sleep, and he had to have at least eight hours or he'd be a bear tomorrow. It was hot as Hades in the house, too, almost as bad as outdoors. Once he'd replaced the flooring and roofing, he'd have to check the air conditioner. A rumbling sound from the attic made him jerk his head up. Ghosts? No, old wiring, faulty plumbing, that psycho cat. The wind maybe?
    Was the wind blowing in Cancun? He wiped at a bead of sweat on his face. Was it as hot on the beach as it was in her house?
    The image of Sophie entwined in his arms set him to pacing, the uncomfortable couch forgotten as he prowled from one end of the room to the other. Was she in bed with Rory Dalton now? Letting the hulk run his stubby hands all over her delicate body, teasing her until she came apart in his arms? Playing naked and getting hot and sweaty with the waves crashing in the background as she cried out in orgasm?
    He stopped and threw his hands over his head, trying to drown out the images.
    A low whistling sound echoed from above, giving him pause again. Was someone in the house? He climbed the steps, glanced in the spare bedroom which was empty, then crossed the hall to Sophie's bedroom. Darkness swallowed the room, moonlight spilling in through the sheers draped from the ceiling to the faded carpet. He hoped Sophie would want to rip up the ugly carpet and showcase the original flooring.
    He stepped forward, intending to examine it, but halted at the sight of that big black furball sprawled in the center of the magnificent bed. The furry animal lifted its head and hissed at him, claws bared (declawed or not, he still had back claws and they looked ominous), teeth shining white in the dim moonlight.
    Lance backed away, knowing he couldn't trespass into Sophie's territory with her feline protector armed, ready to pounce and do him bodily damage. Jazzy obviously didn't like him. Or maybe the house was haunted, as he'd once heard, and the whistling sound was the ghost, and the cat was reacting to it, not him. Animals were supposed to be able to sense spirits.
    The idea was ridiculous.
    But the very first time he'd come to see Sophie here, she'd mentioned the legend of the star-crossed lovers. Legend claimed that during the Civil War, an injured soldier took refuge inside these walls. After the woman of the house had doctored the soldier's injuries, she'd taken him as her lover. But the soldier had been called back to war, and she'd never seen him again. Her anguished spirit supposedly roamed the house, waiting for him to return....
    Lance did not believe in star-crossed lovers. Maybe he didn't believe in love at all.
    Reminding himself that the next day loomed with more backbreaking labor, he headed down the staircase, crossed to the sofa, stretched out, and closed his eyes.
    An hour later he lay staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks and watching a spider spin a web in the left-hand corner. If he were at his apartment, he'd be sleeping like a baby.