A Dream to Cling To Read Online Free Page A

Right place. Now, if his luck held, the door wouldn’t be opened by a man. He decided to take his chances and knocked.
    It wasn’t a man, but the black nose of a large, floppy-looking dog that poked through the crack in the door. Finally it opened wider and Brittany stood in the doorway, a soft fleecy robe pulled tightly around her, her eyes wide. “What …” she sputtered, “what in heaven’s name are
you
doing here?”
    He leaned against the doorframe, one foot firmly inplace should the door suddenly be closed. “You owe me thirty-five dollars for that speeding ticket, Ms. Winters.” His eyes flashed. “And just for the record, it was damn foolish of you to open this door without first asking who was out here!” Standing there like that with her hair loose and free … and that robe inviting the eye to look beneath! Why, she’d stir the insides of a monk!
    “You’re absolutely right about the latter! As for the ticket—”
    “You set me up. You knew that cop was there!”
    She smiled almost shyly, rubbing her arms as a chill wind whipped around Sam’s lanky frame. “You can lead a horse to water … Perhaps you shouldn’t drive so fast.”
    He stepped in before she could stop him and leaned back against the door, snapping it closed. The reddish-brown dog smelled his pants leg, then settled down between them.
    “Ms. Winters, you and I have some business to settle. Now”—he looked over her shoulder, then half-smiled into her surprised face—“shall we talk here in this drafty hallway, or warm ourselves before that fire that I see in the next room?”
    The dog thumped a large hairy tail on the floor.
    Brittany glared at it. “Dunkin, be quiet!” She looked back at Sam and took a step away from him. “I don’t have anything to talk to you about.” Her heart began to beat erratically and she wondered briefly if she was going to be sick. She was hot and cold at the same time, and her palms tingled within her clenched fists. She put one hand on the doorknob, but Sam was already walking down the hall and into the firelit room. She stiffened her back and quickly followed. “Mr. Lawrence, it’s not a good time for business—” Even before Sam interrupted, she knew the words sounded faint and strangely void of purpose.
    “I didn’t know carriage houses had fireplaces,” hesaid. He shrugged out of his jacket and angled his long body down onto the plump-pillowed couch in front of the fire. He looked around the room at the thriving plants that seemed to be everywhere and the comfortable, tasteful furniture. “This is nice, very cozy.” Dunkin licked his hand, then settled down on the hearth. “And you have a great dog, Brittany.”
    Brittany was silent.
    “Here. There’s room.” He eyed the empty space on the small couch and extended a hand. “You look cold.”
    She moved out of his reach and stood near the edge of the mantel, her thoughts a fragmented mess. She didn’t know whether she needed to be warmed or chilled or both. All she knew for sure was that Sam Lawrence confused her and made it difficult to think straight.
    “All right, Mr. Lawrence. Since you’re here, let’s settle this business quickly. I’m very tired. If it’s the thirty-five dollars you’re after, you’ll have to take me to court.”
    Sam watched her as his body soaked in the warmth from the fire. The light seemed to shimmer around her, clearly outlining the curving lines of her body and turning her hair into a halo of fiery auburn-gold. His breath caught in his throat. She looked so young, a raw beauty who didn’t seem to fit well anyplace he’d seen her thus far: her parents’ house, the rusty van. Maybe she fit here, in this cozy den of a house with a blazing fire and soft, comfortable furniture that looked used and friendly.
    “Well?” she asked. She tightened the sash on her robe and looked at him steadily. “What’s it to be, sir, court? Or are you going to admit thirty-five dollars is a cheap