Dream of Me Read Online Free Page A

then, maybe, she’d be ready to again get out into the world.
    Physical activity . To improve the chemistry of her brain. Happiness was as much a matter of physiology as it was psychology, or so their profiler believed. He’d also suggested an intense affair, feeling that being sexually active might trigger the release of pent-up sorrow. Once she traveled past her grief, she would come to realize her life wasn’t over.
    Sam had taken care of the first and second things she needed. He’d prod her to join him for a swim or a walk to help with the third. The last…
    He’d cursed when Dane Renfrow mentioned it with his dry tone. “And how the hell am I supposed to make that happen?”
    But then, he hadn’t believed he’d be attracted. Her photo in her work file had shown a woman with dark hair and rather stern features. But a flat, two-dimensional picture couldn’t convey her appeal.
    Her slim frame held a wiry strength. A watchful wariness in her dark eyes spoke of her hurt, but also of energy. She was depressed, grieving, yes, but she was also—angry. An emotion he understood. That anger and the intelligence burning in her eyes were oddly appealing. So maybe, if he could figure out how to prod her along, he could help with the final Rx for her recovery. What didn’t hurt was how her trim curves were as appealing as the haunted, edgy anger in her eyes.
    You are one sick jerk. Fuck Dane for putting that thought in his head. He pulled his attention back to the road. “You’re not from New Orleans…”
    “I’m from Jefferson Parrish, in bayou country.”
    “But you don’t have a Cajun accent.”
    She shrugged. “My mom was from up north. She insisted I speak like her. And after my dad’s death, she sent me to boarding school, until she got sick.” She angled her face toward him. “I tried to call you back. When the car showed up.”
    He noted the frown from the corner of his eye and didn’t even try to hide his one-sided smile. “I know. I didn’t answer. I figured you were calling to tell me you’d changed your mind. Marc said you were a hard case.”
    Her mouth pouted, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d rather not talk about him.”
    “I get that. So, we won’t. Not unless you want to.”
    She took a deep breath and looked out the side window again, effectively cutting him off.
    They were nearing the turnoff that led down the even-narrower lane connecting all the cottages dotting the gentle, inward curve of shoreline.
    He shot a glance her way and noted she now stared through the windshield. He turned left at the T-intersection, passed two houses, and then pointed at a gate in a walled-in property. The red-tiled roof of his two-story house was just visible above the concrete, stuccoed wall. “That’s my place. There’s a side access. I’ll show it to you in case you need me for anything.”
    She nodded vaguely, but her gaze was already skipping to the iron fence surrounding the property beside his.
    The grounds around the cottage were untended, left to grow wild with palms and brush. He hit the remote to open the gate then drove down the driveway paved in seashell and tiny gravel. The closer they drew to the house, the more vibrant were the plantings. Lemon trees and red hibiscus surrounded the sides of the house; long vines of fuchsia-colored bougainvillea followed the porch rails upward to trail along the length of the small veranda. The headlights caught all that then shone on the long strip of beach ahead.
    The cottage was much smaller than his place, but more intimate and lush. Here, she’d be comfortable and safe. That should be his only concern, but the way her gaze sparked on the flowers then roamed to the white-sand beach, longing in her eyes, shot to hell his good intentions.
    “Why not change into your swimsuit?” he asked, before thinking through the situation. “Moon’s up. We’ll swim. You can work out the kinks from sitting so long on that plane.”
    Her head