Strangers in Paradise by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page B

been in the house. Someone who had come here in stealth. Even if Rex didn’t believe her.
    She swung around. “This is ridiculous! I came to my old family home on what is supposed to be a deserted, desolate peninsula, and it’s more like Grand Central Station!”
    â€œAlexi—”
    â€œJust go, if you want to!”
    Rex watched her, his mouth tight and grim, then swung around. “I’ll check the upstairs. If someone tries to slit your throat, just scream.”
    He was gone. Alexi stared after him, shivering, hating herself for being afraid. She hadn’t been afraid to come—she’d been eager. She’d desperately wanted to be alone. Where there were no crowds, where people didn’t recognize her. But she’d just barely gotten there, and already the darkness and the isolation were proving threatening.
    Nothing was going to happen, she assured herself. But she wrapped her arms nervously about herself and returned to stare up at the paintings. Perhaps some kids believed in the legend about the gold. High school kids. They didn’t want to harm her; they just wanted to find a treasure—a treasure that didn’t really exist.
    She smiled slowly. They were really marvelous-looking people; Pierre was striking, and his Eugenia was beautiful.
    â€œEven if you could come back as a ghost,” she said to Pierre’s likeness with a wry grin, “you certainly wouldn’t haunt me—I’m your own flesh and blood.”
    â€œDo you often talk to paintings?”
    Startled, she swung around. Rex Morrow was leaning casually against the doorframe, watching her.
    â€œOnly now and then.”
    â€œOh.” He waited a moment. “Upstairs is clear. If anyone was in the house, he or she is definitely gone now.”
    â€œGood.”
    â€œWant me to call the police?”
    â€œThink I should?” She realized that he still didn’t believe her. Or maybe he didn’t think she was lying—just that she was neurotic. Paranoid. And maybe he even felt a little guilty about her state of mind, since he had attacked her last night.
    He paused, then shrugged at last. “Whoever it was is gone. Probably some kid from the town looking for Pierre’s treasure. He probably left by that broken window. You must get it fixed.”
    â€œI will—tomorrow. First thing. And maybe it was someone looking for Pierre’s treasure. Numismatically or historically, maybe those Confederate bills are worth something.”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œThey could be collectible!”
    â€œSure. Confederate money is collectible. It’s just not usually worth...”
    â€œWorth what?”
    â€œOnly rare bills from certain banks are worth much. But who knows?” he offered.
    They stood there for several moments, looking at each other across the ballroom.
    â€œWell,” he murmured.
    â€œWell...” she echoed. Her gaze fell from his, and once again she wasn’t at all sure what she wanted. He’d checked the place for her; she was sure now that it was empty.
    He didn’t want her on the peninsula. He had said so himself. It was certainly time that he left—and she should be happy for that, since he was such a doubting Thomas. But she couldn’t help feeling uneasy. She didn’t want him to go.
    Fool! she told herself. Tell him “Thank you very much,” then let him go. A curious warmth was spreading through her. If he left now, they could remain casual acquaintances. But if she encouraged him to stay...
    It was more than fear, more than uneasiness. She wanted him to stay. She wanted to know more about him. She wanted to watch him smile.
    A slight tremor shook her; the warmth flooding her increased. She had the feeling that if she had him stay now, she would never be able to turn her back on him again. She was still staring at him and he was still watching her and no words were being spoken, but tension, real and