The Lancaster Men by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online Page A

lumpy bed.
    As she tucked the pillow under her chin to slip it into its case, she suggested a trade of sleeping quarters. “You don’t have to stay here, Whit. You can sleep in my bed.”
    “With you?” His tone was lightly suggestive.
    She stopped shaking the pillow into its case and turned to face him. First, there had been the comment that she disturbed him—now he was deliberately insinuating that her offer had been that they should sleep together.
    Had he always said things like that? Or had she just become sensitive to the double meanings in his remarks because of her newfound awareness of him?
    Whit studied her faintly openmouthed look and smiled lazily. “No thanks, Shari. 1 remember how loud you snore.”
    He was teasing her again she realized and her tension dissipated with the faded concern. “Whit Lancaster, I do not snore! How could you say such a thing!” She hit him with the pillow and laughed.
    “You snore louder than a buzz saw,” he accused with a throaty laugh and grabbed at the pillow to wrench it from her grasp. “I’ve heard you.”
    “It was probably you snoring!” Shari retorted as they fought over the pillow. “I don’t make a sound when I sleep.”
    The years faded away and this became another version of one of their many pillow fights. Laughing, they tussled over the pillow. Shari lost her balance and fell backward onto the bed with a gasping shriek of laughter, pulling Whit onto the mattress with her. She lost her grip on the pillow as they rolled together on the bed, and ceased trying to reclaim it.
    “I give up. You win.” She breathlessly declared him the victor and paused to rest from her struggle.
    His arm remained under her back as he positioned the pillow so both of them could lay their heads on it. “That’s where it belongs anyway,” he stated.
    Lying side by side on their backs, they gazed at the ceiling. Shari hadn’t felt this close to him in a long time. She turned her cheek against the pillow to look at him. His roughly virile features seemed to be chiseled out of sun-warmed teakwood. She wished this moment could last forever but she knew it was impossible.
    “I suppose you have to drive home first thing in the morning,” she sighed.
    “No.”
    Her jade-green eyes widened in faint surprise. “How long are you staying then?”
    Whit turned his head on the pillow to face her. “I plan to stay until Rory makes up his mind what he’s going to do—unless he takes too long about it.”
    She watched his mouth forming the words and became fascinated by its masculine shape. It was firm, and clearly drawn. There was nothing soft or weak about it. A dark, forbidden longing rose in her to feel his strong lips against her own. Her heart started knocking against her ribs with unusual force,awakening Shari to the direction her thoughts were taking. Not trusting herself so close to him, she sat up and smoothed the eyelet material of her skirt.
    “Beth and the others are waiting for me,” Shari explained away her sudden movement. Her backward glance saw that Whit had raised himself on one elbow, his narrowed look creating a frown. “We’re going to take you up on your offer to use the boat and go for a moonlight sail. I still have to change clothes.” As she stood up on one side of the bed, Whit was straightening to his feet on the other. “I suppose you’ll finish the paper work you brought with you.”
    “Yes. That’s unfortunately the only way it will get done.” His smile was pleasant, yet Shari detected an air of reserve about him. “Enjoy yourself.”
    “We will.” Quick, gliding strides carried her to the door.
    Her smile was artificially bright to hide her inner uncertainty. As she left the study, Rory, Beth and Doré were coming down the stairs, dressed for sailing. She started up the steps, meeting them at a point short of halfway.
    “What was going on down here?” Doré demanded, sweeping Shari with an accusing look. “You certainly were making