Sommersgate House by Kristen Ashley

had to be exhausted.
    He shoved open
the heavy door, not bothering to lock it behind him. Carter would
see to that as well.
    He intended to
go straight to his study. Even if Julia was awake, she would most
likely not wish his company this late at night and, with the call
from Japan coming soon, he did not wish hers. The last time he had
seen her, he remembered her eyes were sunk in their sockets with
heartache but she had been resolute in telling him she’d be moving
to Sommersgate directly after she arranged things in Indiana. And
she had been true to her promise.
    He moved down
the hall, his study was opposite the dining room and he was about
to turn into it when a flash of white caught his peripheral
vision.
    Immediately on
alert, he turned toward the dining room and saw Julia running
directly at him.
    Taken off
guard at the sight of a woman running through his house in the dead
of night, he wasn’t prepared and she crashed right into him,
rocking him back on his heels. Then she pushed away, disengaging
herself from the arm he’d automatically thrown around her
waist.
    “The
children…” Julia muttered urgently before he could say a word and
then she pulled away and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a
time.
    He stood
there, staring up the stairs, wondering if this was some strange
manifestation of jetlag or if he should follow her. The house was
silent, save for her footsteps pounding down the hall. His keen
sense of danger, bred in him through a lifetime of assessing his
mother and father’s moods and honed through the secret life he had
chosen, registered nothing.
    He made his
decision and walked calmly into the study, turned on the lights,
deposited his briefcase on the desk, pulled his tie free, shrugged
off his suit jacket and tossed them on the couch before he walked
out to see what was happening.
    By the time he
exited the study, she was racing back down the stairs.
    Regardless of
the madness she seemed to be exuding, she managed, as ever, to do
it in style. She wore a thin, fitted top and a pair of light blue
pants that hung low on her hips and clung to the right places. She
was barefoot, her toes painted a deep, rich red, and her thick,
blonde hair was waving softly around her face and down past her
shoulders. However flimsy her clothing, she looked like she could
walk down the street in them and have every woman wanting the same
outfit and every man staring at her just as Douglas was staring at
her now.
    She skidded to
a halt in front of him.
    “I heard a
scream,” she told him, breathless.
    That was not
what he had expected to hear.
    Before he
could respond, she put her hand on his chest in that familiar way
of hers, bent slightly at the waist and took in two shuddering
breaths.
    She pulled
herself straight again and said, “The kids are okay, sleeping. But
I heard this awful scream.”
    He looked down
at her hand on his chest and then at her, regarding her
silently.
    He could turn
on his heel, walk into his study and close the door, leaving her to
her bizarre moment of insanity. Or, a far more pleasant idea was to
pick her up, carry her to her rooms and make her so exhausted she’d
cease these ridiculous actions, go to sleep and let him get back to
work.
    He nearly had
to shake his head to clear that unbidden and unwelcome but very
interesting thought from his mind. Dragging her to bed on her first
night and seducing her while she was displaying symptoms of
temporary insanity was most likely not the best way to welcome her
to Sommersgate House.
    He couldn’t
let this woman, who was letting jetlag, unfamiliar surroundings and
a highly emotional situation the like of leaving everything near
and dear to her behind and starting a new life in a foreign
country, lead her to strange delusions, stand in a cold
hallway.
    “Come to the
study, let me get you a drink,” he offered.
    She didn’t
move even as he did. “Did you hear me? Douglas, I heard a woman
scream. A… woman… scream.”
    He