Read Online Never Sleep With Strangers by Heather Graham - Free Book Online Page B

smiling. “I’ve admitted I hated her. She was the worst bitch known to man.”
    â€œOh, come now!” Brett exclaimed, entering the great hall. He poured himself coffee and sat down at Sabrina’s other side. “Was Cassie really such a bitch? Or was she misunderstood? Maybe it was hard being married to Jon Stuart and giving in to his every whim. She loved cities, glamour, excitement, and he liked to tuck himself away here in the country and watch the wind blow.”
    â€œThat’s not true,” Susan said, staunchly defending Jon. “He has homes in London, New York and L.A., as well.”
    â€œPoor fellow,” Brett murmured lightly.
    â€œPoor fellow, indeed!” V.J. announced, sweeping into the room with an audible sniff. She ruffled Brett’s hair. “As if you’re going to be suffering financially after your next contract!”
    Brett smiled sheepishly. “Okay, so I’m not a poor fellow, either. I’m a happy one right now. And I’m going to be really, really rich, as well. You truly should remarry me, Sabrina.”
    â€œNot a chance, I’m afraid.”
    â€œSleep with me, then. Men always buy their mistresses better presents. And we were good together, right?”
    Susan and V.J. were both staring at her.
    â€œBrett!” she said, nearly strangling.
    He ignored her protest, his eyes suddenly on Susan again. “Here you are, Sue, defending Jon now, but you seemed to be absolutely convinced he killed Cassandra when it happened.”
    â€œDon’t be silly. He was outside when she fell.”
    â€œHe could have paid someone to do the deed,” Brett said, waggling his eyebrows.
    â€œIsn’t it rather rude, the way we’re sitting around discussing our host as a potential murderer,” V.J. queried.
    â€œBut it is a Mystery Week,” Brett said.
    As if on cue, Camy Clark came into the room bearing a stack of envelopes. “Good morning, everyone.”
    â€œEveryone isn’t here,” Susan said snidely.
    Sabrina frowned, wondering why the woman was continually so rude to Jon’s assistant. Camy didn’t intrude; she was quiet and tended to stay out of the way.
    â€œWell, it’s still early,” Camy said. “But if you’d like—”
    â€œAh, you have our character descriptions and our instructions!” Brett said, flashing her one of his devastating smiles.
    Camy flushed, smiling. “Yes, I do. Now remember, everyone is to know one another’s character but nothing else. You’ll receive more instructions as we go along. The murderer will, of course, know who he or she is and where to get the murder weapons. And remember, the murderer may have an accomplice. If you’re killed, you’re dead, but you’re a ghost, and you can still warn others of impending danger and help solve the crime.”
    â€œI’m dying for my envelope, darling,” Susan told her, drawling the word dying.
    The others laughed. As Camy began handing out the envelopes, more of their number began to arrive: Anna Lee, looking fetching and slim in stirrup pants and a halter top; Reggie in her inevitable flowered dress; Tom Heart, tall and dignified in a smoking jacket and flannel trousers; Thayer Newby in a Jets T-shirt and slacks; Joe Johnston, casual in a golf shirt and chinos; Joshua Valine looking very artistic, with a paint-smudged denim shirt over a plain white T and baggy pants; Dianne Dorsey in a calf-length skirt and sleeveless knit top. And Jon.
    Jon, too, was casual, in a navy denim shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and form-hugging jeans. His dark hair was damp, as if he’d just showered, and Sabrina couldn’t help but wonder if he’d slept late…because he’d been up late, wandering restlessly around his castle at night. She reminded herself that her door had been bolted. And that just because she hadn’t forgotten a reckless sexual encounter in her