Love of Her Lives Read Online Free Page B

reminiscence of bedtime and firelight and orange blossom honey. Sweet, but she couldn’t fathom where the feeling had come from.
    “Ask the fireman who takes necessary risks for the good of others if he has a death wish.”
    “I’m not interested in firemen. It’s your safety that concerns me.”
    As if she needed another caretaker. Since she’d become a homeowner, her father and brother dispensed endless play–it–safe lectures. And they wondered why she’d moved so far from the family nest.
    His gaze narrowed in behind her. This guy likely had perfect vision, not to mention a clear visual to that backpack on her table. She didn’t miss the way his eyes widened before his gaze settled back on her. A shiver of foreboding raised gooseflesh on her neck.
    She took a step back and gripped the door. “I’m sorry, but I have things to do. If you’d like to leave your questionnaire with me, I’ll fill it in and return it to your office.”
    “Beth, where did you find the black satchel on your table?” The question invaded her mind. She actually felt it touch her cerebrum, like a push into her brain. The oddest sensation.
    “Buried just inside the property line in my backyard.” The sound of her immediate response surprised her. Why had she answered him? The backpack was none of his business.
    “Get the satchel and bring it to me now.”
    “Wait right here, I’ll get it.” Don’t ask questions. Trust him implicitly. Stay out of trouble, mind your own business and don’t get involved in other people’s affairs where you have a way of digging yourself into a mire of trouble. These thoughts drove her down her hallway to the table where she snatched the bag by the strap and zipped it shut.
    Give it to him immediately.
    Bits of soil scattered like dust as she drew the bag off the table.
    “That’s a good lass.”
    Did she detect a condescending tone? She stiffened. No one tells me what to do.
    The odd sense of detachment wavered as she stood in her hallway facing the empty doorway. Where was the warrior?
    Taking a few steps back, she peeked into her living room — empty. Outside, she saw no sign of Professor Cunningham on the porch or on the driveway or on the street.
    An unexpected melancholy fluttered in her heart. The sexy, warrior professor had vanished.

Chapter 5
Home Sweet Home Invasion
    Beth closed her front door and dropped the backpack on the floor. Was she truly hearing voices? And why had she purred like a pussycat in heat at the sight of that warrior? Not warrior, she corrected, professor .
    Had she imagined the voice inside her head? She had a sudden recollection of an abnormal psychology lecture. No, there was nothing abnormal about her psychology. Her life? Possibly. Could it be that the impending boyfriend breakup, the mysterious treasure hunt, the tropical home renovation, and volunteer work — amidst studying for an upcoming midterm exam and writing a final paper — was too much? No wonder she was hearing voices. She made a mental note to consider a few serious life changes.
    Truly, she should count her blessings. Other people were not so blessed, as she well knew from her experience with Meals on the Move.
    With that thought, she headed to the kitchen to check the time as she needed to pick up lunches soon. The elderly got ornery if their meals were late. Her mood lightened as she imagined lunch being the main event in their day. She played a small part in brightening people’s lives.
    In the kitchen, she nearly knocked over her coffee mug when she reached for her shopping list. Pausing for a moment, she stared at the mug in hand. A French Provence blue, the same brilliant shade as that warrior’s eyes. A sensual tingle ran through her breasts. She put the mug down trying to remember the last time she’d felt a physical reaction like that to a man. An image played in her mind of being scooped up effortlessly in his muscled arms. Instantly safe in his warrior–like strength, her head