[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

 Nope.
 Damn. After Michael hung up he sat, staring into
space. Everything started to sink in. He didn t know what he
would do if someone hurt Jessica. He tried to imagine how
terrified she must have been last night. He pictured her on
210
Whittier / Fatal Embrace
the bathroom floor trying to convince herself there wasn t
anyone outside. The next thing that flashed in his mind was a
faceless stranger creeping around the house watching her.
The killer s words rang in his ears: I can get her any time.
Michael ran his hand through his hair. This couldn t be
happening. In one swift movement, the contents of his desk
went smashing against the wall.
211
Whittier / Fatal Embrace
Chapter Nineteen
Michael slid the gun holster over his crisp white shirt
before he put on the black dinner jacket. After adjusting his
attire to accommodate the added bulge, he went to the
window and gazed into the darkness. Someone had been
creeping around his house watching Jessica, intruding on his
life, his home. He had been threatened and it infuriated him.
He was in a vulnerable positionýÿthat in itself would be the
driving force that propelled him through this. Faltering
wasn t an option. The stakes were too high Jessica s life.
After talking with Dan, Michael had shifted gears. He
wasn t a worried mess anymore, he was madder than hell. He
didn t know who was more nuts the killer or him. He had
lapsed temporarily after the call, which was what the killer
wanted. The killer wanted him unstable, and he had nearly
accomplished that. Well, Michael had his bearings now, and
nothing would hinder his promise that he d made to Jessica.
No harm would come to her.
He gathered his thoughts, making sure he hadn t
forgotten anything. He turned away from the window and
glanced at the clock on the nightstand. If they didn t leave
soon, they would be late.
Michael stood at Jessica s door. He rolled his neck and
knocked.  Stanson?
Jessica looked at herself in the mirror attached to the
closed door. She could hardly speak.  Yes.
 We ve got to go. The dinner starts at eight.
 Um-um  She ran her hands down the length of the
dress as she turned sideways to view a different angle.
 Is there a problem?
212
Whittier / Fatal Embrace
 Yes, actually there is. I think there s been a mistake.
She did a complete circle, never taking her eyes off the
image in the mirror.
 A mistake? What kind of mistake?
 In the size of the dress.
He had spent thirty minutes picking out that dress; he
knew it wasn t the wrong size.  Let me see. When he
opened the door, Jessica was standing in the middle of the
room. Stunning. The dress fit her just like he knew it would.
The black, slippery material hugged her curves perfectly. It
narrowed at her waist and flared just a bit at her hips, then
clung around her mid-thigh.
 It s perfect.
 Perfect? Jessica ran her hands along the soft material,
which she feared there wasn t enough of.  It doesn t fit.
 Sure it does. He went to her side.  Turn around and let
me help you zip it up. The dress was a few inches shorter
than he had thought, but the look only enhanced her long,
slender legs. He commended himself on the selection.
She turned around, pulling her hair to the side.  I
couldn t reach.
He rested one hand on her waist and took the zipper in
the other. A small sliver of black lace visible at her waist
marred the gentle curve of her bare back and a matching
piece of lace stretched across the middle of her back. This
small act most men took for granted he found alluring. The
smoothness of her exposed back, the small glimpse of her
undergarments, the proximity of his body to hers, formed a
sensuous magnetism of desire that started in his loins and
spread through him. His hand gripped Jessica s waist. He felt
her suck in slightly. As he zipped the dress, the material
conformed to her body perfectly.  There.
213
Whittier / Fatal Embrace
Jessica let her hair fall.  Thank you.
 Now that you re ready, I ll meet you downstairs. He
left without looking back.
Jessica forced herself to take another look in the mirror.
She had to admit the dress was beautiful. But it looked
strange on her. She just wasn t used to the way it molded to
her body.
She walked the length of the room twice to get the feel of
the high heels Michael had given her with the dress. She
nearly twisted her ankle coming down the stairs. She was
going to kill herself if she wasn t careful. It s like walking on
your tiptoes, she told herself.
 You can t be serious, Jessica said at the foot of the
stairs.
He pulled his coat on.  About what?
 This dress.
Michael held out her coat.  I don t see anything wrong
with the dress.
 You re not joking? She watched him in amazement as
he shook his head.  You really want me to go out wearing
this.
 That s what I intended you to do with the dress. Is there
a problem with that?
 Yes. Everyone will think I m a prostitute.
He started to laugh.  When was the last time you went
out? He had picked the dress because it was a little
revealing but very tasteful. There was no way he would have
gotten a dress that made her look cheap. Her innocence
couldn t be denied anyway. The sway of her hips when she
walked was natural, not practiced to perfection. No one
could mistake her for anything other than a lady.
214
Whittier / Fatal Embrace
 I don t think this is funny, Michael. She had never been
to a formal dinner before, and she was a little nervous.  What
if people stare?
He held the coat up again.  If they stare, it s not because
they think you re a prostitute. Trust me. Let s get your coat
on. We re going to be late if you don t hurry it up. He led
her to the garage where a gray Porsche was parked.
 Nice car.
 You sound surprised.
Jessica ran her hand along the shiny hood.  I am. I just
don t picture you being extravagant. I thought you were
more of a pickup man.
He held the door open. She knew him better than he
thought. Cathy was the one who wanted the car. She loved
racing around town in it. After she had been killed, he had
parked it and hadn t looked at it since.
He watched Jessica slide into the leather seat. He knew
that she would look striking in the sports car; that s why he
had asked Mrs. Mayfield to clean it the day before.
 My brothers would love this. After they pulled out of
the garage, she asked,  What is this dinner for?
 It s a fund raiser.
 What are they raising funds for? She adjusted the
vents.
 The AHA is putting on the dinner to raise money for
ranches that specialize in training horses for the physically [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • thierry.pev.pl

    •