Kill Me Again Read Online Free Page A

held up a hand, and she stopped speaking. “I really do want to know all about you at some point, Olivia, but right now, could you get to me?”
    She held his gaze, and hers went stony. “Not if you keep interrupting.”
    So, she had a bit of a temper. Good. He liked that. She wasn’t as tame as she appeared. Sighing, he felt around in the covers for the remote, then pressed a button to raise the bed so he could lean back without being entirely prone. His head felt loads better than when he’d been sitting upright, and he made a mental note that the redheaded doc had been right about that.
    â€œWhere was I?”
    â€œSummer fundraiser for something or other,” he said.
    â€œShort-term memory is all right, then?”
    He met her eyes, saw the sarcasm, figured he had it coming. “I’ll try not to interrupt again.”
    She nodded. “It’s all relevant, I promise.”
    He nodded at her to continue.
    â€œI’ve been reading Aaron Westhaven for years. He’s known to be very reclusive, very private. Still, I used to write to him once a year or so at a P.O. box that was listed in his first novel.”
    â€œAnd you think I’m him?” he asked.
    She lowered her head and lifted her brows at the same time, sending him a look that told him he’d interrupted her again.
    â€œSorry,” he said. “Continue.”
    â€œI never heard back, and the address was missing from all the future books. But I kept writing. Every time a new book came out, I would read it and send a letter. I liked to think of him—you—getting my letters personally, not along with the piles through the publisher. I liked to think of…you reading them with the same eagerness I felt whenever I got the newest novel.”
    He was frowning as he watched her go on. Her eyes actually lit up as she talked about a man she’d never even met. Until now. Maybe.
    â€œI guess I should say thank you,” he said. “And, uh, maybe apologize for never writing back.”
    She shrugged. “Don’t be silly. What celebrity answers his own fan mail?”
    He shrugged. “A recluse can’t, by definition, be a celebrity, can he?”
    â€œOf course he can.”
    â€œWell, celebrity or not, it seems rude as hell to me.”
    She smiled a little. “If you are him, you can apologize to me later.”
    He was beginning to hope he was, so her doubt jabbed at him a little. “You’re not sure I’m him, then?”
    â€œI’m fairly certain,” she said. “It’s just that Westhaven is so reclusive. No public appearances, no known photographs, even—”
    â€œDamn,” he muttered, shaking his head.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œAaron Westhaven is an asshole, that’s what.”
    Her eyes widened, and she’d risen from her chair before he’d stopped speaking. “He is— you are not!”
    â€œIf I’m him, I am. I mean, who do I think I am? Shakespeare? Where do I get off, anyway?”
    â€œYou are not an…an asshole,” she said, stumbling a bit over a word he was certain she’d never uttered in her life. “If you’ll let me finish my story, you’ll begin to see that.”
    â€œFine. Finish the story.”
    She smoothed her hands over the seat of her skirt, forcing his eyes to follow, and sat down the way he imagined royalty would.
    â€œAll right. So, despite…your…understandable reluctance to answer what must have seemed like fan mail, I decided to write again, asking you to come and speak at the annual summer fundraiser lecture series for the English department. To my surprise, I received a response this time. An acceptance.”
    â€œI said yes?” Then he rolled his eyes at his ownquestion. “I guess I must have. I’m here.” Then he thought about it a bit further, because her explanation didn’t make a lot of sense. He wondered what reason