Read Desire #1 for Free Online Page A

beautiful house again. Inside the truck, I turned up the radio and sang along to a cheesy country song about strong women sticking together, and pulled out onto the gravel driveway. As the tires crunched over the gravel, I refused to look back. I needed to put this behind me.
    After stopping at a grocery store to get some bread and milk, I pulled up in front of the Salve Regina dormitory. Mrs. Wicker had very kindly arranged for me to rent a room here. In the summer, the dorm rooms were empty, so to raise extra money, the university let out rooms for a short period, usually to people attending academic conferences, but for Mrs. Wicker, they had made an exception. The location was perfect as it was only a two-minute drive from Cliff House, and if I hadn’t needed my paints and tools, I could have walked the distance easily.
    The dorm rooms were small, but that suited me fine. The communal kitchen was just down the hall. I fixed myself a peanut butter sandwich and sat down at the kitchen table to tuck in when I heard a cheery voice say, “Hello.”
    I turned to see Frank, the resident warden and caretaker.
    “I wondered where you were hiding, Miss Taylor.”
    “Just making a sandwich,” I said, tilting my plate.
    “You’ve got a parcel.” Frank laid a rectangular box on the table next to my plate. “I signed for it for you.”
    As I stared at the box, my mouth grew dry. Who would be sending me parcels?
    A movie reel played in my head, showing clips from all the gangster movies I’d seen in the past: body parts, dead animals – all sent as sick messages or warnings … Surely they wouldn’t go that far.
    Frank cleared his throat, and I realised he was still standing their waiting for me to respond or open the parcel.
    I swallowed then pushed the parcel back a few inches. “Thanks, Frank. I’ll open it later.”
    “Okay,” he said, looking a little disappointed. “You have a good night now,” he called over his shoulder as he left the communal kitchen.
    A few moments after he left, I dumped my half-eaten sandwich in the bin and grabbed the parcel. Holding it at arm’s length, I took it back to my dorm room.
    I set the parcel on the floor, and sat back on the bed, wondering what to do.
    It’s no good just staring at it , I told myself. You’ll have to open it sometime.
    I knelt down on the floor beside the parcel and reached out with trembling hands. It was sealed at one end with sticky tape. I peeled it back and unwrapped the brown paper. Inside, was what looked like a white shoe box. It looked innocent enough, but appearances could be deceptive.
    My heart pounded in my chest as I slowly lifted the lid.
    What the hell? Shoes?
    I picked up a gold, strappy sandal with the highest heels I had ever seen. It was a designer I had never heard of, but I could tell they were expensive shoes, possibly even handmade.
    I turned my attention back to the box and found a note amongst the red tissue paper.
    Please come on Saturday night. I’d love to see you wearing these.
    Benjamin.
    Holy cow. My jaw dropped. He’d sent me these. But why? Why make such an extravagant gesture? And how did he even know if they were my size?
    I quickly kicked off my ballet pumps and inserted my right foot into the gold sandal. It was the perfect fit. I pursed my lips together. That was just weird. How did he know what size shoe I wore?
    I stood up and slipped on the other shoe. I wobbled over to the wardrobe, which had a full length mirror inside the door.
    Whoa! These shoes would take some getting used to. I felt as if I were walking on stilts!
    I gaped at my reflection in the mirror. The shoes really did work wonders. My legs looked longer and leaner, and when I turned to the side, I noticed that they made me stand differently. They made my butt stick out and look round and perky.
    Wow, who knew shoes could make such a difference?
    I struck a few silly poses in front of the mirror, enjoying fooling around. Perhaps I could go to the charity