Free My Little Runaway (Destiny Bay) by Helen Conrad Page A

her with her suitcase and guitar. Then he led the way into the house, using his key rather than ringing to wake the servants. Jennifer followed behind, peering into each familiar room as they passed. He led her up the stairs and right into his old bedroom.
    She entered behind him and looked around at all the old school pennants and Rotary Club awards on the walls, then nudged the single bed with her knee.
    “Are we going to take turns, or what?” she asked, referring to the obviously narrow proportions of the sleeping accommodations but also probing to find out just what he expected from her.
    He put down her luggage and looked up to see what she was talking about, then he smiled as he realized her point. “You’ve got the whole thing to yourself,” he assured her. “I don’t use this room anymore. I’ll be across the hall.”
    She felt disappointed, and she turned away, opening her suitcase and fussing with the contents to hide it from him. God how she wished he would take her in his arms, take her into his bed, hold her all night long! She needed him.  
    “ ‘I Will Survive,’ “ she whispered to herself with a self-mocking smile.
    “What?” Reid asked, turning.
    “Nothing,” she murmured. “Nothing at all.”
    He walked to the window. She followed him. Below, she could see her parents’ house. Some exterior floodlights were left on all night, and it lay below, cold and impersonal.
    “I used to have my desk right here by the window,” Reid told her softly. “I did all my studying here. And so often I would look down and see you and Tony playing around.”
    “Playing around,” she echoed ruefully. “That was what Tony and I both did best, wasn’t it?”
    He didn’t answer.  
    “Are they there?” she asked, referring to her parents.
    “Yes. They’re always there.”
    She took a deep breath. “What do you expect me to do?” she asked briskly. “Knock on the door and yell, ‘Hey, Mom, I’m home’?”
    “That would be one way. Don’t you think she’d open her arms to you?”
    “No.” She shook her head. “Reid, I don’t think you know them as well as you think you do.”
    “Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t.”
    She spun and stared at him.
    He shrugged. “Get some good sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
    She nodded, turning away from him. He hesitated for a moment, watching her. The tumbling chestnut curls invited an affectionate hand to rake through and put them in order. When she looked up at him, her eyes barely visible beneath the windblown hair, she looked so forlorn and vulnerable he had the urge to sweep her up and kiss her red mouth until . . .
    “Good night,” he forced out, jaw twitching.
    “Good night,” she whispered back.
    He left her alone.
    He was going to be strong. Leaving her room, he went into his own, closed the door tight, and leaned on it, drawing in a deep, ragged breath. Yes, he was going to be strong if it killed him.

CHAPTER FIVE:  
    Memories of a Golden Boy  

    Jennifer spent the next morning exploring Reid’s old room. What she would have given for a morning like this in the old days! Free rein in the midst of all Reid’s secrets.
    Unfortunately, he either didn’t have many or he’d hidden those he had somewhere else. When he moved out, he’d left behind a shelf of beautifully crafted paper and wood airplane models, a wooden pencil box he’d obviously made with his own hands in some shop class, and a stack of well-thumbed-through fifteen-year-old Playboy magazines. But other than sports equipment and trophies, that was about it. She turned toward the bookcase, hoping for better luck there.
    “Do men ever keep diaries?” she muttered. If they did, they didn’t leave them in bookcases, because she couldn’t find a sign of one. She did find a discouraging number of law books, along with calculus and physics textbooks, which didn’t hold much promise. And then, finally, she discovered his yearbooks.
    He’d gone to Dantan Prep, the