The Presence by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page A

great deal for you to worry about. From me, at any rate.”
    His look assured her that he found her less appealing than a cobra. For some reason, that was disconcerting.
    Because the bastard looked good in a towel? she mocked herself. More than that, he had assurance and self-confidence. Sharp, intelligent eyes, well-sculpted, masculine, handsome features. And his other assets were well sculpted, too.
    â€œI’ll keep my door locked, too,” he assured her.
    â€œYou do that,” she said sweetly.
    He turned and walked back through the connecting bath. The towel, amazingly, remained just as it had been tied.
    Toni shut the door in his wake. She leaned against it, wondering how such a brilliant night could have possibly ended in such disaster. And how she had not only in vented a historical figure who had actually existed, but one with a seriously formidable, modern-day descend ant who was here, in the living—near naked—flesh?
    Fear trickled down her spine, but she ignored it. It was very late now, and she was determined to get organized and get some sleep. And that was that.
    She looked around, trying to forget the man on the other side of the door and keep herself from being cowed by him in any way. Surveying her surroundings, she decided it was more than just a fine room. Really. It was a better room.
    She moved away from the door, telling herself that she liked it just fine, that she was going to move right in—even if it did prove to be just for the next few nights.
    So determined, she went about arranging her toiletries and unpacking some of her belongings. But despite her resolve to settle in and get some sleep, she was restless and disturbed. First, this really was one total mess. She couldn’t believe that they had been taken by some kind of a shyster. But worse, it bothered her that his family history, which she thought she’d made up, had turned out to be true.
    Finished with hanging a number of her garments, she gathered up her toothbrush, toothpaste and flannel nightgown and headed for the bathroom. She hesitated at the door, then decided that for whatever length of time she’d still be in the castle, she had to take showers. She gritted her teeth, knocked tentatively and heard nothing. She went in. The shower-tub combination was to her left, and a large vanity with double sinks to her right. The last time anyone had redone the bathroom had been many years ago, but it was still decent with artistic little bird faucets and a commode and bath and shower wall that had surely been state-of-the-art at the time.
    The doors to the master’s chamber and the bride’s room were directly opposite one another. She stared at the door to the other room for several seconds, then walked over to it and tapped on it.
    â€œYes?”
    She opened the door and peeked in. He was still in his towel, deeply engrossed in the paper, and he had a fire going. The entire room seemed much warmer than hers.
    A little resentment filled her until she remembered that there was a fireplace in her new room. She could build her own fire.
    â€œI was going to use the shower. I just wanted to makesure that you didn’t need it.” And that you don’t intend to barge into the bathroom.
    She had a sudden, absurd image of him riding the great black stallion into the tiny bathroom.
    He arched an ebony brow. “My apparel would seem to show that I’ve already bathed,” he said.
    â€œRight. Well, I’ll unlock the door from this side when I’m done.”
    â€œYes, please do,” he said, and looked back at the newspaper.
    She couldn’t resist. “The Times, huh? You apparently like American newspapers better than American people.”
    â€œI usually like Americans very much,” he said. There was the slightest accent on the second word he spoke.
    She closed the connecting door and locked it, swearing beneath her breath. The situation was bad enough. If there had