How I Found You Read Online Free Page B

to wear that day.
    Outside the sun was still quite low, meaning that the others would probably still be sleeping. Having done everything I could think of to pass the time—including dressing and blow-drying my hair—I decided to head downstairs.
    It was hard to cross that house without disturbing anyone – like I said, creaks and moans – but I successfully accomplished it. I tiptoed all the way to the ground floor and ducked through the first door I came across.
    That door happened to lead into the conservatory – a quaint, airy room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the forest, a mahogany bookcase, and a coffee table encircled by salmon-pink armchairs.
    I strolled over to the bookcase and skimmed the selection. There was every genre imaginable, ranging from classic literature to romance novels and political biographies. Admittedly, I’d already read most of them at least once over the past few years, including the cringe-worthy trashy novel, Amour in Paris , as well as the brick-sized Biography of Winston Churchill , which, ironically, was rather exciting—though I would never divulge that secret out loud.
    With some deliberation I eased out a leather-bound copy of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare . It seemed like a safe bet.
    Book in hand, I retreated to one of the armchairs and tucked my legs up on the soft pink cushion. Once I was sufficiently comfortable, I began leafing through the dog-eared pages. I doubted that I would actually read it, not cover to cover anyway, but it was something to do all the same.
    As it happened, my initial cynicism was proved wrong and I found myself engrossed in a chapter entitled Sonnets . I was about halfway through the chapter when a voice behind me made me jump out of my skin.
    “Ah,” breathed Oscar Valero in his smooth, sultry tone. He peered over my shoulder and read aloud from the open page. His warm breath brushed against my neck as he recited, “All days are nights to see till I see thee, and nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.” He reached over my shoulder and tapped the page. “Significant, wouldn’t you agree?”
    I was stunned. So stunned that I didn’t even hear what he had said. The words themselves were lost on me; all I took from them was the breath that brushed my ear.
    I slammed the book shut. “I didn’t hear you come in.” My speech sounded stammered.
    Oscar meandered around the coffee table and took a seat in one of the vacant armchairs. He stretched his arms up over his head and yawned loudly.
    I watched him from across the table. “Can I help you?” I asked curtly.
    “No, thank you.” He smiled.
    “I didn’t hear you come in,” I said again, fortunately more in control of my voice this time.
    After adjusting to the initial shock of his materialisation, I realised that what baffled me most of all was the fact that I hadn’t heard the door open, nor had I felt the breath on the back of my neck until he had spoken.
    “Okay.”
    “Okay, what ?” I stared at him, mystified.
    “Okay, you didn’t hear me come in,” he replied casually.
    My eyes narrowed. “How long were you standing behind me?”
    Oscar shrugged. “I’ve forgotten. It was a while ago now.” He sat perfectly still, his arms resting on either side of the chair. He wore a black shirt that was open over a deep red T-shirt, and the same jeans that he had been wearing the night before. His dark hair fell with effortless style and he seemed to be smirking, though his mouth was indifferent.
    Much to my irritation, I realised that I was blushing. I was ashamed to admit it, but I was blushing because he was so attractive.
    But, good looks aside, there was something else that drew my focus back to him. As odd as it might have sounded, I simply couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew him. It was uncanny. I felt like I knew everything about him—every thought and feeling he’d ever had, the good, the bad, I knew it all. And yet, I’d never met him before