Tidewater Lover Read Online Free Page B

the ocean and the yellow flames lighting the blackened hearth, Lacey's sole desire was to curl up on the sofa and read. Kicking off her gold mules, she carried out her wish.
    The filmy baby-doll pajamas were decidedly brief, she realized as she tucked her legs beneath her, but she shrugged unconcernedly. There weren't any neighbors close by and a peeping Tom would have to be a giant to see in the second-story windows. Here in the flat country of Virginia's Tidewater basin along the coast, there wasn't such a thing as a hill or a mountain.
    The blue-bottomed lamp beside the sofa cast a small pool of light on the pages of the book in Lacey's hand. Reclining against the fluffy pillows, she found her place and began reading. Soon her head began nodding lethargically until finally the book slipped from her fingers and she dozed.
    An hour later something wakened her. Tiredly she glanced around, deciding it had been a log cracking in the fireplace. Closing the book, she set it on the chrome and white stand beside the lamp and switched off the light.
    As sleepy as she was, she knew she should go to bed, but it was so pleasant and comfortable in front of the fire. Snuggling deeper into the pillows, she gazed at the yellow flames licking the nearly disintegrated wood in the fireplace.
    From the bottom of the entrance stairs she heard the rattle of the doorknob, and the remnants of sleep fled as every nerve screamed in alertness. Some burglar was breaking in! And she was there all alone with no neighbors near enough to hear her cries.
    Her bare feet didn't make a sound on the patterned rug as she darted to the telephone beside the other sofa. But the line was dead when she picked up the receiver. Panic raced through her veins.
    It was too late to run. The front door had already been opened and there was the quiet even tread of footsteps on the stairs. Instinct sent Lacey racing madly to the fireplace. There was a brief clang of metal against metal as she grabbed the poker from its rack.
    The footsteps on the stairs paused for an instant and she froze a foot or two in front of the fireplace. Both of her shaking hands were clutching the poker, holding it like a baseball bat in front of her.
    The steps resumed their climb. With only the flickering, dying flames of the fire to provide light in the darkened house, the stairwell was encased in shadows. Yet from these shadows emerged a darker figure, halting immobile at the head of the steps.
    Breathing became painful for Lacey. She swallowed, trying to ease the paralysis in her throat.
    The figure moved nearer, into the haft light cast by the fire. Dark trousers gave way to a lighter-colored top, a knit of some sort, Lacey guessed unconsciously, judging by the way it outlined the breadth of his chest and shoulders. The man's face was all angles and planes, the firelight casting more shadows than it revealed. Yet the rough contours of his face gave her the impression that he was regarding her with curious—if not amused—surprise.
    He took another step nearer and her heart jumped into her throat, blocking any bravado words of challenge. The shadows dissipated and she found herself staring into a pair of blue eyes, dark as indigo.
    They began to make a slow, assessing sweep of her, traveling down the long column of her throat, over the jutting curves of her breast, noticing the slimness of her waist and hips, and following the length of bare legs to her bare toes, then reversed the order.
    Lacey wasn't aware that the firelight flickering behind her made the filmy pajamas virtually transparent. Her only sensation was the way his eyes seemed to burn through her, increasing her feelings of danger.
    When the unnerving pair of blue eyes leisurely made their return to her face, they skimmed over the fine bones and the sophisticated short cut of her silky brown hair. Lacey trembled when his gaze finally ensnared hers, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the poker tighter.
    "Bob told me I would find