Read In the Mood for Love for Free Online

he’d let it slip to Rocky that he had the hots for Harper. Knowing Sam had been struggling since Paula’s death, his cousin had encouraged him to pursue a no-strings-attached fling. He’d begged off, saying Harper wasn’t mother material and he couldn’t afford a casual affair. He’d yet to confess to Rocky that he’d folded, but he suspected she knew. After tonight’s Kick-in-the-Pants analogy, he suspected Rae also had a clue. Or at least thought Harper and Sam would make a good match, although God knew why.
    “Thanks for keeping this quiet,” Harper said as she pushed to her feet. “I’d be even more grateful if you’d forget this ever happened.”
    Sam knew that tone. He knew that cocky stance. He was being dismissed.
    Like hell.
    She’d cited anxiety as the source of her problem, so she must’ve had a panic attack before. She knew enough to recognize the symptoms. Sam was seeing another side of Harper, a vulnerable, fragile side that caused him to dig in. He was curious. He was also intrigued that she’d tuned in to CNN—hard news—when her news of choice was fluff. Entertainment Tonight . Hollywood Access . Yet her gaze kept gravitating to the graphic content on the screen. It shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. Had she seen something that had triggered a personal panic button?
    Sam nabbed the remote, thumbed off, then relaxed against the cushions of the vintage daybed sofa—just one of the treasures Rocky had snagged in her 1940s antiquing spree. “What prompted the attack?”
    Harper turned to face him, crossing her arms, and narrowing her eyes. “Don’t you need to be somewhere? Like home? With Ben and Mina?”
    “Hired a sitter till nine. Cupcake Lover meeting, remember?”
    “Then you should be there. ”
    “How can I fix your plumbing emergency if I’m there ?”
    “You’re a pain in my ass, McCloud.”
    “Ditto. What prompted the attack? Something on the news?”
    “What? No.”
    “Did you see Mary?”
    “I’ve told you before, I don’t believe in apparitions. I believe in restless spirits.”
    “The term you used before was kindred spirits .”
    “That, too.”
    “You intimated you and Mary Rothwell are kindred spirits,” Sam said. “Meaning you have something in common. Like what?” In the past, he’d steered clear of the subject, half convinced Harper was a New Age flake, the kind who put stock in ghost hunters and psychics. He’d assumed she was enamored with the romantic slant of the Rothwell legend—most women were.
    “I didn’t panic because of anything having to do with Mary,” Harper said by way of an answer.
    Instead of working that bone, he explored elsewhere. “Someone try to break in?” It wasn’t the first time Sam had had reservations about a woman living alone in this secluded patch of woods. Not to mention, Harper owned a tempting collection of electronics. Although her decorating taste leaned toward vintage, she’d stocked several rooms with state-of-the-art audio/visual components. She’d even had her bedroom enlarged and augmented so that it doubled as a high-tech office.
    “Nothing like that,” she said.
    “Then what?”
    Harper hugged herself, worked her jaw. Her right eye ticked, and Sam warned himself to tread lightly. The last thing he wanted was to incite another attack. His death glare never worked on Harper so he utilized patience—his secret weapon.
    Five seconds and one annoyed huff later, she broke. “I was getting ready for the CL meeting,” she said. “Then I got a text, backed up by an e-mail.”
    “From?”
    “My firm. I called but I was routed to a freaking assistant who recited some scripted bull.” She glanced away, rocked back and forth on her three-inch pumps.
    Sam had a thing for Harper’s vast collection of sexy footwear. He wouldn’t call it a fetish, but close. Nads tightening, he tore his gaze from her stylish heels and shapely calves. Locking on her face didn’t ease his untimely arousal, but it