His Sleeping Beauty. Carol Grace

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His Sleeping Beauty - Carol Grace Mills & Boon Silhouette

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think about it,” she said firmly, and this time she made it back to the house without a backward look. But even then, she couldn’t shake the view she’d had of his tanned torso, quizzical gaze and granite jaw.

      Yes, he was some hunk of man. If her aunt had mentioned that, she hadn’t heard it. And if she had, she wouldn’t have done anything differently. She hadn’t drooled over him, she’d merely confronted him about mutilating the tree. Hopefully she could last the week without another run-in. One thing was for sure, she had no intention of going to his party. She looked forward to a long, peaceful afternoon immersed in another century.

      Max stood at the fence, absently scratching his jaw, watching Sarah walk across the lawn, shoulders back, hips swaying gently under those baggy pants. It was her. Sleeping Beauty. Only not such a beauty behind those awful glasses and that oversize T-shirt. He was torn between immediately blurting out what had happened last night and keeping his mouth shut for the moment. Sooner or later he’d have to tell her. It looked like it was going to be later.

      She was certainly an unusual type, even without the sleepwalking. Ms. Plain by day, a beauty by night. Definitely not his type. But then who was, these days? He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost two years, and he wasn’t looking for one.

      He had firsthand knowledge of how a seemingly perfect marriage could go sour and ruin the lives of not only the couple, but everyone else around, including children, friends and extended family. His parents’ marriage had shown him that, and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

      Anybody with his job would naturally be discouraged from getting serious about anyone. Sure there were divorce lawyers who were married. Most of them married more than once. Who needed that kind of complication in their life? Alimony payments, recriminations. Unfair settlements. Child custody battles. Not for him. He saw enough of it. He wanted no part of it in his personal life.

      Which was why he avoided serious relationships. Casual affairs, good times…sure. As long as both sides were consenting and had no unrealistic expectations, why not? But after the train wrecks he’d seen in divorce court, the fights, the broken homes and broken hearts, marriage was definitely not for him.

      The way it was, his time was his own. His choices were his own. No compromises. No tears. No tantrums. No sleepless nights. He was a lucky man.

      Chapter Two

      Max knew full well what it was like to work on Saturday and Sunday, too. He’d teased Sarah, but she’d nailed him when she accused him of working today, too. He found his job challenging and he didn’t mind working on weekends at all. He hadn’t gotten where he was by slacking off. If he wanted to stay where he was, which was on top of the game, he had to work twice as hard as the others.

      He got plenty of repeat business, which was a sad commentary on marriage, but when his clients turned to him to help out with the next settlement, he was there for them. Today he’d invited everyone he’d represented in the past few years. Some were good friends, some just clients. Some were remarried, some single, and some soon to be single.

      Now that he thought about it, he didn’t even know why he’d bothered to invite Sarah to his party. She wouldn’t fit in and she probably wouldn’t have a good time. So it was a good thing that she wasn’t likely to show up. It was only that her aunt had not so subtly suggested she needed to get out more. And after last night, he felt he should keep an eye on her. Also he felt bad about waking her up this morning. After a night of sleepwalking, she needed her rest.

      Max wondered if Sarah could remember what happened. The walking, the gathering of nuts, or the kiss? No, of course not. She would have said something. Or given some kind of sign. A look, a frown or a smile. He couldn’t get over how different she looked. And yet there was a hint of that beautiful creature of the night in the way she held her head, the look in her eyes. It was maddening how elusive it was, there for a brief moment, and then gone again.

      He hadn’t realized until this morning how the tree was shading his pool, and he wanted to get out and do something before the party. Anything but worry about the few unhappy clients who felt they deserved more than they’d gotten in their settlements, and were blaming not only their ex, but him, too. It was a gut-wrenching business, dealing with people who’d failed while participating in one of life’s most important unions, and it was sometimes depressing, but somebody had to do it and the proceeds had enabled him to enjoy the kind of lifestyle he’d once only dreamed of.

      But there was pressure to keep it up. Today was the day to thank his clients with his yearly party, show off his new house, and do some general PR for himself. He really didn’t need an extra woman there. One who’d stand out from all the others. He could hear the comments now.

      “Who’s the lady in the glasses? The one standing over there by herself.”

      “Doesn’t look like one of Max’s clients.”

      “Or one of his girlfriends.”

      “Where’d she come from?”

      They hadn’t seen her in the middle of the night. They had no idea how she looked in a sheer nightgown. He felt his pulse kick up a notch just thinking about it. He was sorry he’d invited her, because he definitely didn’t want her at his party. Oh, well, she probably wouldn’t come. So why worry?

      His cell phone rang and he took it out of his back pocket. It was the caterer. They’d be setting up at three and were checking on the facilities at his house. Large oven, microwave, freezer space? Yes, yes and yes.

      But when they came that afternoon in their white van with Countryside Catering painted on the side, they said they’d understood he had a double oven. He looked around the spotless, unused kitchen and wondered if he’d told them he had. Since he’d moved in a month ago, he really hadn’t used the kitchen and he probably never would. He usually ate out or ordered in, so the kitchen was terra incognito.

      While some of the crew set up tables on the spacious patio and started a barbecue going behind the house, others took over the kitchen, mixing salads, arranging appetizer puffs on baking sheets. Max wandered outside and looked across the fence. No sign of his neighbor. She was probably inside buried under a pile of history books. It was better that way. She wouldn’t fit in with the group. He knew it and she probably knew it, too.

      When he first saw her this morning he realized she was exactly what he’d expected from her aunt’s description. And the complete opposite of the exotic creature of last night. Then the longer he stood there the more he was aware of her dual personality and changeable looks. He couldn’t help wondering if she’d walk every night. Did he hope she’d wander in a see-through nightgown every night? Of course not. Now that he knew who she was. But what if she went somewhere else in her sheer nightgown? Down the street? Out into the street? That was a scary thought. He’d have to go after her. And he had to tell her. Or did she already know?

      He also wondered if he was exactly what she’d expected from him. Or hadn’t her aunt bothered to say anything about him except to warn her about the tree? It didn’t matter. If he laid off the chain saw he wouldn’t see her again, unless she walked at night or…No, he was convinced she wouldn’t come to the party. Why should she? She didn’t know anyone. She didn’t even know him. Not as well as he knew her.

      One of the caterers came out to the backyard, wiping her hands on her white apron.

      “Mr. Monroe, it’s almost four and we have to have another oven.”

      “Sorry

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