Night Kills Read Online Free

he’d found someone to share his passions, both in front of the TV and in the backseat of his meticulously restored ’69 Camaro (his real true love). For her it was time for something more challenging and promising. Time to see if she could make it on her own.
    And she could—she was sure of it. But she was so damned lonely. New York could do that to you. There you were, swimming in an ocean of humanity, and if you knew no one well, you were as isolated as if you were a castaway on a remote island.
    Shellie had finally given in to something she’d been long considering. Using a matchmaking service to alleviate her loneliness hadn’t seemed like the best idea she’d ever had, but she’d finally decided to give it a try. Sometimes in life you had to take a chance.
    After spending weeks visiting the website of E-Bliss.org, she’d filled out the detailed questionnaire that allowed the agency to match her with the best possible bet as a future mate. Then she’d waited.
    After slightly more than a week, the nervously anticipated e-mail had appeared on her computer screen. The attached profile hadn’t revealed much about her prospective soul mate, David Adams. It hadn’t even included his photo. Well, that was okay. Shellie remembered how hesitant she’d been to send her photo to E-Bliss.org. After all, once your image was on the Internet, who knew where it might pop up? Someone might even superimpose her head on the body of another woman doing God knew what. Maybe even committing unnatural acts. Shellie had heard of it happening.
    She’d been permitted to choose the public place that was to be the scene of their first meeting, so here she was at the agreed-upon time.
    Now it was ten minutes past that time, and here was Shellie still waiting to share conversation and perhaps another egg cream with the first date she’d had since moving to New York. (She didn’t count the scuzzy guy who’d stuck out his tongue at her and tried to pick her up outside Starbucks last week.)
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    On the other side of the atrium, pretending now and then to look into the show window of a luggage shop, David Adams watched her. Shellie Marston. From Nebraska, no less. He smiled. Maybe he’d been expecting too much. She wasn’t perfect, but she’d do.
    Adams was wearing neatly pressed khakis, a blue pullover shirt with a collar, white jogging shoes. Even from this distance he could see that Shellie was also wearing white joggers. His smile widened. Already they had something in common. Maybe this would really work.
    He was a handsome man with regular features not easily remembered from a glance. It took a while for his bland but masculine visage to register as attractive. His hair was dark brown, wavy, and worn a bit long to disguise the fact that his ears stuck out. He was slightly under six feet tall and moved with athletic ease. His body was compact and muscular, his waist narrow. His was the sort of physique that wore clothes well. He was all in all nonthreatening, and there was certainly nothing not to like about him. Easy manner, nice smile, clean, and well groomed. He was the sort who’d fit well in most women’s romantic fantasies. And of course when he did finally bed them, they saw him as the ideal from the desires and dreams they’d carried since their first kiss.
    He took another longer and bolder look at Shellie Marston and decided she was a go. He moved toward her with an easy grace, gaze fixed on her.
    She’d spotted him now. These first few minutes were important. He watched her face.
    It was, as usual, good strategy to be late. For an instant, relief that he’d shown up at all flooded her features. Then she had her mask on again.
    He smiled at her and she managed to smile back.
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    Shellie made herself smile at the man she was now sure was approaching her table. He must be David Adams. She didn’t know why she’d had to make herself