Starlight Read Online Free Page B

the coffeepot was still perking.
    “Ye shouldn’t be doing that.” A foggy voice broke through her consciousness. “You’ll get grounds in your cup.”
    Surprise snapped Karen’s eyes open. “Dad! What are you doing here?”
    An injured look narrowed the faded hazel eyes. “ ’Tis a fine greeting for your father.”
    Karen lowered herself into the large overstuffed chair opposite Matthew. “Dad, as much as I love you, I must insist you stop entering my apartment like this.” She schooled her expression against the pleading puppy-dog look her father gave her.
    “Forgive an old man’s curiosity.” He lowered his gaze, suddenly looking lost and aged beyond his years.
    “All right, Dad, you’re forgiven. Gosh, you look awful.”
    His mouth deepened into slanted grooves of amusement. “Too many dances with a demanding widow.” The look he cast her sent Karen into helpless giggles.
    “Serves you right, old man.”
    “You’re the bane of my life, you wicked child,” he teased lovingly. “Now, tell me about the fellow you met last night. Do you like him?”
    Self-consciously, Karen centered her attention on the steaming mug cradled between her hands. “Very much.”
    When she didn’t volunteer any further information, Matthew probed again. “Well, go on. What’s his name? When will you be seeing him again?”
    “Dad, honestly.” Karen stood abruptly, her fluid movements displaying a subtle grace. “Did you suddenly join the FBI? I don’t like being interrogated. When will you realize I’m not your little girl anymore?” She didn’t mean to sound so angry.
    “Lass,” Matthew pleaded, “you’ll always be my little girl.”
    Karen’s mouth thinned defensively until she realized her father’s silver head had possessed only a salting of gray three years ago. He was aging right before her eyes. So much had changed in both their lives since her mother’s death. Matthew had lost morethan his wife and best friend. In the months that followed Madeline’s unexpected death, Matthew’s appreciation for life, his aspirations, even his personality had altered dramatically. Seeing her father now would have shocked someone who had known him three years before.
    Shrugging in a gesture of defeat, Karen lowered herself into the chair and said, “His name is Randall Prescott; he’s a professor at the university. I like him, Dad, better than anyone I’ve met.” She paused, watching Matthew’s reaction. “Rand is blind.”
    Matthew’s eyes clouded with uncertainty. “Blind.” His tongue tasted the word as if he found it unpleasant. “Lass, are you sure of your feelings?”
    “I’m not sure of anything,” Karen murmured dryly. “All I know is that I found him to be the most intriguing man I’ve ever met. Something happened last night, to Rand and
me
.” She was quick to include herself.
    “Something unusual. I can’t even put it into words. It was almost as if our spirits communicated.” She gave a short, embarrassed laugh. “I know that sounds crazy. Rand is tender and sensitive, but I don’t think he exposes that side of his nature often. I … I think I was privileged to see that in him. And, Dad, he listens.”
    Matthew nodded. “I understand the blind often have an extremely good sense of hearing.”
    “Not hearing,” she corrected. “He listens. He’s not so caught in his own ego that he felt the need to impress me. He was interested in me as a person, my thoughts, opinions. That’s listening, and there’s a world of difference.”
    Matthew was studying Karen when she raised her eyes to his. “Yes, lass, that there is.”
    “Maybe it was the music or the champagne; I don’t know.” Her mind whirled with the memory of the electricity that had sparked between them.
    “I think the lad was responding to the sensitive chord in you, Karen. Do you remember as a child you were always the one to rescue lost or injured animals? And several people, too, as I recall.”
    “Oh, Dad,