Fairytale by MAGGIE SHAYNE Page A

“I’ll just spread a sleeping
bag on the floor.”
    He drew a breath, shook his head. He looked
into her eyes, probed, then looked away again. “Are you going to
tell me it’s a coincidence, Brigit?”
    She heard a ripple of anger in the words, but
oddly enough, it sounded more like a plea. “Coincidence?”
    “Just yesterday I placed an ad in the Ithaca Times. Room and board, cheap, or in exchange for
light housework. I don’t suppose you saw it?”
    He wouldn’t release her gaze. She tried to
look away and couldn’t. He knew she’d seen that ad. He knew she was
fishing for an invitation. God, he saw right through her!
    “Yes,” she admitted. She faced him squarely,
waiting for the disdain to appear in his eyes. It didn’t. There was
relief instead. Silent gratitude for something as simple as the
truth. Impulsively, she added more. “To be honest, that’s why I
came to the university. Not for the class. Just to...”
    “Check me out.”
    Lips thinning, she nodded. Now that he knew
she’d lied to him, she’d never get into his house. God, how could
she save Raze now?
    “And what’s the verdict?”
    Her head came up fast, and she bit her lip.
“What?”
    “Do I pass inspection, Brigit? Am I the kind
of man you think you could...live with?” There was a slight tilt of
his lips, as if he were trying to lighten things up. But it didn’t
reach his eyes. They were more intense than ever, and she had the
feeling the question meant a lot to him.
    “You mean...you’d let me?”
    “Assuming you have time for a little light
housework. With the shop to run and all, maybe you’d rather
not...”
    “No! I mean...yes.” Her voice softened. “Yes,
I’ll have time. I’ll make time. I have to...”
    God, if she wasn’t careful he’d see how vital
this was to her! She cleared her throat, met his eyes, shivered at
the potency of the impact whenever she held his gaze for more than
an instant. It was electric. Magic. Reviving her forbidden dreams
of him, and making her body shudder with awareness and raw, erotic
hunger. Their gazes held for far too long. She was reading things
in his eyes, and showing him things in hers...things that shouldn’t
pass between strangers. Unspoken longings and erotic promises. All
slipping from somewhere inside her before her conscious mind
regained control. She blinked rapidly, embarrassed at the intensity
of that long glance. From the corner of her eye, she saw him give
his head a fast shake, as if trying to wake himself up from a brief
slumber.
    “Akasha’s hours are a little unorthodox,” she
said, to cover the awkwardness. “We open in the afternoon and close
at eleven p.m. It seems to fit the schedules of the students much
better than nine to five would. I have free time in the
mornings.”
    He nodded, seemingly lost in confusion.
Chaos. Determinedly keeping his gaze on the floor he said,
monotone, “So would you like to see the place?”
    When she didn’t answer because she was busy
studying the way the sunlight illuminated the swirls of paler blond
and darker gold in his hair, he looked up again, met her eyes. And
for just an instant she thought she saw knowledge in them. That he
knew damned well she was still being less than honest.
    A ripple of fear raced up her spine, into her
nape, and she shivered involuntarily. How could he melt her soul
with the heat and wanting in his eyes one minute, and chill her
with suspicion and mistrust in his eyes the next?
    He didn’t hold her gaze this time. It was a
brief, chilly clash before he focused on the plants, feigning
interest in them. “Well?” he went on. “Are you still
interested?”
    She paced slowly away from him, pushing one
hand through her hair as if deep in thought. And then she turned to
pace toward him again, stopping halfway, gnawing her lower lip,
making him want to do the same. A lush begonia hung between them,
its leafy, twisting strands interfering with his view of her, and
for a second he resented it,