Sweet Liar by Jude Deveraux Page A

Maybe over the years he’d become spoiled with women liking him, maybe girls had been too easy for him to get. Samantha was a challenge. Since she’d come to New York, he’d tried everything to get her attention, up to and including slipping invitations under her door. He’d “accidentally” met her in the kitchen a few hundred times. He’d even hinted repeatedly that he’d like to learn how to use a computer, but she’d looked at him as though she’d never heard the word before.
    For the life of him he couldn’t figure her out. There was the prim little miss who hadn’t wanted to stay in a house alone with a man; there was the hot tamale who’d kissed him like he’d never before been kissed; and lately there was the grubby little zombie who silently moved about the kitchen wearing her father’s pajamas and robe. He rarely heard her footsteps above anymore and when he did see her, she was always yawning, even though she usually looked as though she’d just woken up.
    Mike’s head came up sharply. “What did you say?”
    â€œI said I missed him so much that I wore only his clothes. I couldn’t button his shirt across my chest, but that didn’t matter because wearing his clothes made me feel closer to him. If that man—”
    Mike came out of his seat. “What man?”
    Daphne looked startled. “The man at the hospital. Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve been telling you? I wanted to sleep forever, so I decided to do just that. I took a bottle of pills and woke up in a hospital, and that’s where that man talked to me, told me I had to keep on living.”
    Mike stood looking down at her for a moment, but he wasn’t seeing her, because he was beginning to comprehend what Daphne was saying. “Samantha’s had a hard time, Mike,” he could hear Samantha’s father saying over the phone, his voice harsh and weak, heavy with his impending death. “She’s had a hard life, and when I’m gone, I don’t know what she’ll do. I wish I knew my daughter better, but I don’t. I don’t know what goes on inside her head, but I want to leave this world knowing that she’s going to be taken care of. I want you to look out for her, Mike, and I want to make up to her for some of what I did to her. Take care of her for me. There’s no one else I can ask.”
    Mike had experienced the death of his uncle Mike, but that was all—and that was enough. He couldn’t actually imagine more death in his life or losing as many people as Sam had. He definitely couldn’t imagine what he’d feel like if his father died—or if, like Samantha, his last and only friend and relative died.
    Looking up at Samantha’s windows, he saw that, as always, the curtains were drawn. No doubt she was sleeping again. Sleeping forever, as Daphne put it.
    â€œYou’re a poor guardian, Taggert,” he said to himself, then turned to look at Daphne.
    â€œWant me out of here, Mike?” she asked as she picked up her purse and started to go back through the house to leave, but at the door she turned back. “You need anything, Mikey, honey, you let me know. I owe you a few favors.”
    Absently, Mike nodded, but he was looking up at Samantha’s windows, and his mind was wholly on his tenant. Two minutes later he was on the phone ordering a meal to be delivered from La Côte Basque.

4
    S tanding outside Samantha’s door, Mike took a deep breath, then knocked. He had no idea if what he was doing was right, but he was going to give it his best shot.
    She didn’t answer his knock, but then, he hadn’t actually expected her to; so, balancing the tray in one hand, he took his key out of his pocket, inserted it into the lock, opened the door a crack, and saw that all the lights in the room were out. Raising his eyes skyward, he murmured as he stepped into the