Free The Chilling Deception by Jayne Castle Page A

snags.
    That high-level decision made, Guinevere puttered around the room a while longer, changing into her long-sleeved cotton nightgown, brushing her teeth, and generally killing time preparing for bed. Then, very much aware of the empty bed, she picked up a paperback and tried reading for a while. But her thoughts kept straying to the cautious discussion she’d had with Zac in the car. Outside another high wind announced that a new storm was on its way. So much for the brief sunshine the San Juans had enjoyed that morning.
    By midnight Guinevere gave up trying to read. She put the book down beside the bed and slid out from under the covers. Switching off the light, she went to the window and opened the drapes to stare out into the darkness of the incoming storm, leaning against the window frame and contemplating the new era of relationships between men and women.
    Life was definitely not simpler in the modern age.
    Why hadn’t Zac made some attempt to convince her to come to his room tonight, if it was true he felt obliged to stay there because of Vandyke? Perhaps he felt rebuffed after last night. Guinevere winced. She hadn’t handled last night very well. It was understandable if Zac felt she had been holding him at bay – in a sense she had been doing exactly that. And she wasn’t sure she could explain quite why, even to herself.
    Restlessly Guinevere moved around the room, picking up objects off the dresser, fiddling with the thermostat, listening to the gathering wind. It was when she found herself trying to reread the same page of the paperback that she finally came to a decision. This was a new era, she lectured herself. Zac hadn’t invited her to his room, but nothing said she couldn’t invite herself.
    With a sudden sense of determination she yanked off the nightgown and stepped into her jeans without bothering to put on any underwear. She skipped a bra, too, when she reached for her wide-sleeved, oversize poet’s shirt. She wouldn’t bother with shoes. No one was likely to see her in the hall and even if someone did, the ballet-style slippers she was wearing were fine. Taking a grip on her resolve, Guinevere opened the door to her room, glanced both ways, and started down the empty corridor to Zac’s room.
    He was right. It did seem a very long way, especially at this hour of the night. She heard voices in a few of the rooms as she passed the doors, but she saw no one. When she reached Zac’s door she raised her hand to knock. Suddenly she was overcome by a thousand second thoughts.
    The door opened before she could commit her knuckles to the knock.
    "I thought I heard someone out here," Zac muttered in a low growl. "What the hell are you doing here?"
    He was wearing a pair of slacks and nothing else. Guinevere swallowed a little uncertainly. She looked up at him, appealing for understanding. "I came to say good night. No, that’s not quite right. I came to spend the night."
    He stared down at her. "The hell you did. Guinevere Jones, how can you do this to me? I’m going to spend the rest of the night in agony."
    That shook her. "Agony?" Her eyes widened unhappily.
    "Because you can’t stay, you little idiot. I’ve told you, there’s a connecting door between my room and Vandyke’s. It’s nothing more than a thin sheet of plywood, for crying out loud. Now get your sweet tail back down that hall before I lose my perspective on your business image."
    Guinevere touched his bare shoulder with her fingertips. "I’ll be very quiet, Zac. I promise."
    He closed his eyes briefly in despair. When he opened them again there was a new element swirling in the gray depths. Guinevere knew that element. She’d seen it before. It sent a tremor of excitement through her. It also gave her courage.
    "I want to stay, Zac."
    "Honey, I’d give my right arm to have you stay. But for your own sake – "
    "I’ll worry about my own image." She smiled gently and went past him into the room, turning to watch as he