Kisses From Heaven Read Online Free

paint was peeling rather wretchedly in spots. She’d managed the doors and lower windows the summer before, but painting the rest of the house had eluded both her salary and ability. Yet despite its dilapidated air, she loved the place more than she loved any human being, barring Gramps, and she could never let it go.
    Buck’s eyes had been scanning ever since they turned into the private driveway, and Loren felt a moment’s unease. If he wasn’t scrutinizing the peeling paint, he could very well be thinking there would be valuable heirlooms to steal in a house like this. The thought faded as he got out of the van. He just didn’t seem like a thief. Danger came from that giant in other ways… In a moment, he had the side doors open and was angling out a newly talkative Bill Shephard.
    Loren opened the front door and stepped in just ahead of them. “Angie?” she called. On inspiration, she added, “Joan?” Even a fictitious housekeeper had to have a name.
    The hallway was square, leading to a massive dining room on the right and a living room on the left. The entire downstairs was carpeted in a soft moss green that had been plushly elegant at one time; with the careful placement of furniture Loren had hidden most of the threadbare spots. Duncan Phyfe tables in the living room were matched by traditional couches and chairs in cream and a light federal blue. It was a huge room, and perhaps to someone more affluent than her unexpected guest, the furnishings would look a bit sparse, making it obvious that pieces had been sold as the need occurred. She didn’t personally mind the austerity, and anyway, beyond were the open French doors to the library, a room that radiated her favorite kind of clutter—books, paintings and roomy furniture meant to curl up in.
    “Angie?” She sighed when there was still no answer. She felt uncomfortable having to motion Buck upstairs with Gramps; had her sister been there, she would have felt less uneasy.
    Buck seemed to wield the frail old body of her grandfather as if William Shephard weighed less than a sack of potatoes; the old man had fallen asleep again. Loren led the way up, feeling increasingly awkward. The stranger hadn’t even seen the kitchen, and now he was on the way to the bedrooms.
    “It’s the last door on the left…” There were six bedrooms and three baths, massive, old-fashioned rooms that led off the ballroom of a hall. The doors were all oak and heavy with crystal knobs. High-vaulted ceilings and alcoved cubbyholes… For some ridiculous reason, she wanted the stranger to like the place and not notice the holes in the carpet or the barren spots on the walls where paintings had obviously been taken down.
    Whatever his thoughts, they undoubtedly flew out of his mind at the sudden emergence of a tall blonde bombshell clothed in a pale pink slip with a brush in her hand from one of the bedrooms. Loren glared at her sister, but Angela ignored her basilisk gaze as she said, “Honestly, Loren, I am sorry about this afternoon. I got home from classes at noon, and I was so tired—oh!” As the sweetest blue eyes heaven made were bestowed on the towering virile form of the giant, appreciation promptly replaced shock. Curiosity and perhaps amazement followed as Angela looked at Loren with raised eyebrows. You? her look seemed to say.
    “In there.” Loren motioned Buck irritably to her grandfather’s bedroom. It was hardly a moment for introductions.
    “I won’t be here for dinner, Lor. I’m going out with David, so you won’t have to cook for me. I knew you’d find Gramps. I really think this time you should consider—”
    “No!”
    Loren followed Buck into the bedroom. When her grandfather was flat on the bed, she started taking off his shoes. Buck was working on the buttons of his suit coat. And Angie, Loren noted, appalled, was casually in the doorway as if she were fully dressed. “It’s been the most dreadful day. The hot water’s out again—and I was