The Lost Tycoon by Melody Anne Read Free Book Online Page A

there for a moment, and then, unbidden, her lips twitched at his blatant hint. This man knew how to be charming, knew how to get his way. She’d bet he killed it on the stand when he testified as an expert witness.
    “I made a fresh pot of iced tea a little while ago,” she told him, the idea of sitting with a cool drink with this man was too dang appealing for her liking.
    “Perfect. I just so happen to love tea.” He held out his arm to escort her inside.
    Misty looked at the arm for a moment, then looked down, pretending she hadn’t noticed his gesture. She bent down and gathered her gardening tools, placed them in the basket she was using, and began walking toward her front door.
    She could swear she heard him chuckle, but when she turned her head, his mouth was closed, though there was a smile on his lips. Maybe she was just getting paranoid at this point.
    When his hand brushed her back as they reached the front door, a chill slithered down her body, a tingling chasing that sensation. One small touch and she was heated and cooled all at once. Never before could she remember reacting this way to a guy — not her first lover, and certainly not Jesse.
    Drawing away from him, she slipped inside the door while giving herself a stern lecture. You will not feel a response to this man. He is trying to manipulate you into doing what he wants. This is all pointless. He will disappear in a few minutes, and then you probably won’t ever see him again, so pull yourself together.
    The mental lecture seemed to help…a little. The sooner she gave Bryson a drink and then ushered him back out her front door, the better for her racing heart and her suddenly reawakened libido.
    Now get busy . Misty went straight to the cupboard and pulled out a couple of glasses, then filled them with ice and sweetened iced tea. Next, she grabbed a box of cookies and then moved over to the table.
    It wasn’t as if she’d had a lot of visitors — none, actually other than Agent Benson, when he was checking in with her. She hadn’t been very social with that man at all. OK, there was also the guy with the dog, but he didn’t come inside.
    “Great iced tea,” Bryson said.
    “Thanks. I just followed the directions on the box.”
    His smile was distracting her. Even though she knew she was saying the wrong things, knew she should be less tense, he seemed more fascinated by her than appalled. He was either one hell of an actor or he just didn’t get out much.
    In any case, they weren’t exactly a match made in heaven. Not that she should be thinking of them as a match or a pair, or anything at all that involved two people. They were simply strangers. It was very black and white.
    “I have to say, I really like how you’ve done up the place. I’ve seen a lot of temp homes in my years on the team, and people usually don’t do much with them. They prefer to get out as soon as possible. You’ve made this place really homey.”
    Misty tried to look around the small space through his eyes. It wasn’t much, a small three-bedroom, two-bathroom home, but still much too large for just her, much larger than she was used to. The walls were sparsely decorated, and the furnishings minimal. Against all odds, though, she’d grown quite attached.
    After she finally started to leave the house during daylight hours, she’d managed to find a craft store and had picked up a few painting supplies, so the walls now had a couple of amateur pictures with large splashes of color on them, and a cross-stitch project was sitting on the coffee table.
    She’d never done one before, but she’d been excited to try something new. It wasn’t going well, but depending on how long she was living there, she might just be able to master the craft eventually.
    “I like it here. It’s a great town, not far from the city, but the neighborhood is friendly. Mr. Whistler down the street usually stops and chats with me for a few minutes while he’s walking his little dog. I