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

front bedroom she froze.
    A noise! A soft sighing sound. Definitely
human. Oh God—was her imagined burglar real after all?
    The sound came again, but it was quiet,
almost soothing. There were no shadows to indicate movement, and
her commonsense told her if anyone lurked in the bedroom the
combination of moonlight and the nearby streetlamp would throw
their silhouette onto the opposite wall.
    She crept across and peered through the
narrow gap by the door hinges. On the bed was... an almost naked
man. Making snuffly, sleepy noises.
    Every hair on her body slammed upright. Every
nerve pinged to full alert.
    She tried to get a better view through the
small space. He sprawled out as though he owned the place.
    Anton?
    She sharpened her attention even further. One
arm lay flung out to the side, and the other shielded his eyes from
the streetlamp.
    It had to be Anton.
    Even though she couldn’t see his face, she
could see plenty else. He was bare-chested, long-legged, male, and
terrifying.
    She dropped the keys and clapped a hand
across her mouth to keep herself silent. Violent trembles raced up
and down her spine. Her knees did their jellifying act again, but
this time she had no handy chair to drop onto. She sagged against
the doorframe instead, eyes tightly closed, trying not to vomit up
the movie popcorn and her white wine and the mouthful of delicious
cake.
    Would she ever, ever , ever conquer the fear?
    For maybe sixty seconds she remained cowed
and terrified, eyes averted, clutching the woodwork.
    Breathe in. Deep and slow. Breathe out. All
the way, just like Doctor Julia Menzies taught you.
    In again.
    Out. There’s nothing to be scared of.
    It’s not Uncle Graham. You’re not nine years
old.
    It’s Anton. He’s not going to touch you, not
going to hurt you. Breathe in. Breathe deep. Relax your
fingers.
    Let go of the doorframe. It’s not Uncle
Graham.
    Gradually, gradually, the frantic hammering
of her heart slowed until it was down to an uneven and
throat-filling thump.
    Slowly the nausea passed, and she regained
control of her stomach.
    One hand continued to hold the doorframe in a
vise-like grip, but the other relaxed enough to scrub over her
sweat-beaded face. Her fingers still trembled, vibrating against
her skin as she rubbed at the nervous wetness that had sprung out
across her forehead...over her top lip...on the back of her
neck.
    Not Uncle Graham. Not Uncle Graham.
    She wobbled down to a crouch and retrieved
the keys from the carpet, fingers numb and fumbly. Did she dare to
lock herself in with him? She walked the few steps to the front
door, tried the wrong key first, sliding it into the lock, and then
finding it wouldn’t turn. Cursing under her breath, she pulled it
out and inserted the next. The bolt moved into place. Now no-one
from outside could get in—but could she make a dash out to safety
if she needed to? She hoped she could.
    She retraced her steps to the bedroom
doorway.
    Heard deep regular breathing, and then a
small snore.
    He’s sound asleep. You’re safe.
    Another small breathy snore. More like the
whicker of a horse, really. Her lips curved up into a smile, even
though she still felt very far from calm.
    Had he been so tired after all his work that
he’d needed to crash? And wouldn’t he get cold wearing so
little?
    Jetta slipped off her tall shoes, picked them
up, and padded along the hallway to her room. She swapped the
stilettos for a pair of old sandals, twitched her favorite mohair
blanket from the wardrobe shelf, and took a couple of slow deep
breaths for bravery.
    At least two more minutes passed before she
dared creep right in to the front bedroom. He was quiet again
now—still lying in exactly the same position. His feet were flat on
the floor. Big feet in old sports shoes. No socks that she could
see. Had he been sitting on the end of the bed and collapsed
sleepily backward?
    His long thighs were meatier than she’d
expected for such a tall man, but maybe it was because