The Montoros Affair. Charlene Sands

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СКАЧАТЬ article about how more people were adding fountains into their homes for their ornateness as well as their soothing effect, inspired her to invest in one for the entryway of her store. As anticipated, it soon lured passers-by, who then became intrigued with the sensual massage and bath products she displayed around the fountain.

      And that hadn’t been an isolated experiment. The fashion sections of the paper helped her determine upcoming color trends and styles for her lingerie and loungewear inventory. The comics gave her a lift on days when being an entrepreneur seemed to be the most insane choice a woman in her situation could make. Let the financial moguls posture and pontificate on the business section’s pages; she’d never met one who understood how to tell his slightly plump wife that he would love to see her in a sexy item of lingerie or robe.

      Willa bent at the waist and brushed her long hair forward from the nape. Thinking of robes reminded her that she needed to call Starla and remind her about the short silk ones they were going to bring out of stock to add to the sale merchandise today. Then again, maybe she shouldn’t. Her young assistant manager would utter a funny, theatrical groan, but underneath would be a subtle accusation about not being trusted. Willa knew she’d already pushed her luck. Yesterday she’d dialed to pass on her new number, then she’d phoned to check how sales were going. And she’d called again later that night to make sure Starla remembered to lock up securely.

      No, she wouldn’t do it. Everything was under control. If she felt like a mother away from her baby for the first time, that was her problem, one she’d better keep to herself—unless she wanted to risk losing a valuable employee, as well as someone she’d come to care for as a friend.

      Straightening and flinging her hair back over her shoulders, her gaze settled on the windows of her bedroom…and beyond. To his house. Those windows.

      Her heart gave a jolt as she saw the dark silhouette behind the net draperies. It was him. For a few blissful moments she’d actually managed to push yesterday’s disturbing incident to the back of her mind, and now the man had the gall to be spying on her like some…Peeping Tom!

      She felt the strongest urge to hide behind the bathroom door, and an equally strong impulse to throw her brush at him. It wasn’t a matter of being self-conscious about her body. Good grief, her tank top and briefs were more concealing than what women wore on the beaches these days. But just because she didn’t have her draperies and blinds yet, did that give him a right to invade her privacy like some voyeur?

      Well, he’d picked on the wrong woman if he thought he could intimidate her this time, in her own home. Losing A.J. had forced her to toughen up in a great number of ways. She knew how to stand up for herself and not let anyone boss, shame or bully her.

      With indignation and fury building, she matched him stare for stare. She could almost feel his gaze shift and linger. Never had she met anyone with such audacity.

      “You won’t intimidate me again,” she muttered, fuming.

      But her defiance didn’t have much effect on him, either. The only movement came from the birds flying between their houses in search of breakfast for themselves and their hatchlings. Cardinals, chickadees, wrens and bluebirds sailed by, singing their praises of the May sunshine. Farther off she heard a woodpecker work diligently at a dead pine tree; the staccato, hollow tapping that came through the screen echoed the pulse pounding in her throat and at her temples. All that sweet innocence only made the broad-shouldered shadowy figure next door all the more surreal, and menacing.

      Feeling her confidence wavering, she tossed her brush onto the counter. Back in the bedroom she grabbed her leggings, and shoes, and shot through the doorway. Awful, awful man, she seethed, stomping down the stairs. She wished her bare feet and modest weight created the thunderous acoustics that her annoyance craved. Did he sleep by that confounded computer? Was this what she had to look forward to from having him as a neighbor?

      To think she’d been so pleased to have double windows in the master bedroom. It meant she could better enjoy the view of the ancient wisteria that rose from Zachary Denton’s backyard and nearly engulfed everything in its path as it crept over fences and trees in search of sunlight. Bad enough to have missed this year’s blooms; was she going to have to keep everything tightly shut and lose the view altogether? It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair!

      Downstairs she dropped her things by her new telephone and angrily stepped into her leggings and shoes, then jerked open the front door. She’d give him credit for one thing, though—he’d raised her blood pressure so much she didn’t need any caffeine to finish waking up!

      Outside, she took a welcome, deep breath of fresh air. Yesterday’s rain had soaked everything through and through, and lingering humidity made the air heavy, the grass and shrubbery dew-drenched. The sun peered through the haze, its warmth stirring a potpourri of scents from the countless varieties of wildflowers and trees that flourished in the piney woods of East Texas. Willa let the promising day and the fresh air soothe her. It lasted only until she realized her paper wasn’t on the driveway as she’d hoped.

      “Not this, too?” Sighing, she checked on the other side of the van in case the delivery boy’s aim had been way off.

      It wasn’t there, either. But as she scanned her yard, she spotted the plastic-bag-enclosed paper tied to her mailbox. Relieved that a black cloud of bad luck wasn’t settling in over her house after all, she went to retrieve it.

      Easier said than done, she decided, realizing how well the boy had secured the thing to her mailbox. She had to tug hard to free it, and the force of the move jerked open the aluminum box’s lid. Inside, was a folded sheet of letter-size paper.

      “Oh, happy day,” she drawled, almost amused. She hadn’t even finished moving in yet and already she was the recipient of her first piece of junk mail.

      Curious to know who had been this ambitious, she drew out the paper and unfolded it.

      It wasn’t an advertisement, and for a moment she frowned down at the cut-out, odd-shaped letters from magazines and newspapers that had been glued unevenly to the sheet. Her mind simply refused to make sense of it.

      “Too tempting for words.”

      What on earth was this? Who would put something so ridiculous and—

      The nerve! Oh, yes, she understood now. Did he think she wouldn’t be able to put two and two together? From what she could tell of the few other residents who lived farther down the road, they were either elderly or working people with no children. Hardly the type to indulge in such a tasteless gesture. But she had no such confidence in her nearest neighbor.

      What had been his plan? Did he think she was going to be fooled into believing the Vilary stalker had chosen her as his next victim? It would serve him right if she phoned the police this minute and turned him in. Let him explain away his unbalanced behavior to them!

      But that would probably bring every reporter in the state upon them like a swarm of those killer bees said to be invading from South America. Willa drew her lower lip between her teeth. No way did she want to cope with something like that. She was no recluse, but the ads and interviews she occasionally did for her store was enough “media” for her. In comparison the press who’d haunted her every step after A.J.’s employer had tried to blame his crash on pilot error had been like being chased by a pack of starving wild dogs.

      Her resentment growing, she eyed Zachary Denton’s house. No, she didn’t want to go over there again; however, she would. She could handle this herself, and enjoy it! Let him have a taste of what it was like to be threatened.

      She СКАЧАТЬ