Read Online Out of Bounds by Kris Pearson - Free Book Online Page A

bedrooms on the
other side. One was half full of accumulated junk. One had the door
firmly closed. Jetta’s, no doubt. Maybe she’d booby trapped it? He
left it well alone.
    A bathroom—functional but dated. And a big
moonlit front bedroom with a three sided bay window and Bren’s
truly awful suite, just as described, sitting on splayed
brass-ferruled feet.
    He shuddered to think anyone had once
considered such a design beautiful, and dropped down to sit on the
bed for a few moments in the dim light.
    Ballentine Park Mews. So close now he could
taste it. Paved forecourts in front of the ground floor garages,
with narrow gardens and low walls separating each. Color-schemed
for individuality, built fast and efficiently, and finished with
flair.
    He lay back and stretched his arms above his
head, tired but satisfied. His hands hit the old
headboard—certainly not big enough for his bed, and absolutely not
to his taste.
    He closed his eyes and imagined what he’d
really like ornamenting his bed. She looked surprisingly like his
challenging firecracker of a cousin.
    Impossible of course, but no less desirable.
    Jetta paid off the cab and limped up the path
in her too-high heels. Anton had left the hall light on for her.
Good—that’d make it easier to find the right key in the bundle.
    She bent and felt under the pot. Nothing.
    A prickle of unease raised the hairs on the
back of her neck.
    They’d joked about burglars earlier that
evening. Surely the house wasn’t being done over right at this
instant? She’d heard a funeral notice in the newspaper could act as
a signal for undesirable visitors.
    Empty house now—come and rob me late at
night.
    Oh, please no. Even though there was very
little to take, the violation would be the final insult on a
shocking day.
    She put a cautious foot on the lowest step.
It was probably silly to go in on her own. Was Anton awake? She
glanced next door in the faint hope he might still be up. Total
darkness—no help there.
    She climbed a further step and cocked her
head to one side, listening intently. There were no sounds apart
from distant traffic and her own thudding heartbeat.
    Up the third step. She reached across to the
door and with the utmost caution tried the handle.
    It turned.
    Her pulse kicked up another notch. At least
she had access, but what was Anton thinking, leaving the house
unlocked after his earlier lecture on security?
    She stepped inside, grateful the lights were
on. Nothing seemed amiss—then down the far end of the hallway she
caught sight of the repainted kitchen cupboards. Her jaw dropped
and she clutched her bag to her chest.
    She tiptoed toward them, silent on the old
carpet, still wary, but intensely curious. He’d done them while she
was at the movies! How was it possible to achieve that in half an
evening? Where had he found paint?
    She gazed around, transfixed. What a
difference the paler doors and plain timber floor made. If she took
the kitten calendar down and replaced it with the big avant-garde
one Modus Textiles had given her for Christmas, things would look
good.
    Then she caught sight of the gateau,
carefully centered on the table.
    Anton?
    Who else, you fool? Bren and Hallie were both
at the movies with you.
    Tears stung her eyes, and she tried to blink
them away. He’d done this for her after all her harsh and
disbelieving words, all her bitchy behavior?
    She drifted across to the table, pushed the
ribbon aside, and lifted the plastic box. Very professional and
delicious looking cake. Very amateur placing of candles... Her lips
quirked.
    Unable to resist, she pinched off the end of
the slice and popped it into her mouth. The rich chocolate icing
and moist crumbly cake melted on her tongue. Heaven.
    But why was the house unlocked? She saw now
that he’d tossed the keys onto an old black paint rag on the
nearest chair. Satisfied the place wasn’t being ransacked, she
grabbed them and walked along the hallway to secure the door.
    Level with the