Read Lady Be Bad for Free Online Page A

Had all the love, all the
laughter, all the sharing, all the caring, all the planning been
nothing but a sham?
    She chucked the unicorn under his chin. "I
bet every divorced woman in the world has asked herself that
question and never been able to answer it! Maybe my whole problem
is that I cling to the past. Maybe I should say the hell with it
all. The hell with Noah Drake. I could always learn to kiss some
other man!" Her stomach rumbled in both alarm and annoyance. "Oh
hell, maybe I should just get something to eat!" Dragging herself
off the chair, she went in search of something more nourishing than
shattered dreams and unfulfilled desires.
    Her opinion of the duplex's kitchen hadn't
altered since the day she had first inspected the rather austere,
clinical environment. Marlayna wrinkled her nose at the black
granite countertops, white wood cabinets and appliances and black
and white tile on the floor and walls. She flipped the overhead
fluorescent lights on, then quickly turned them off, deciding that
her dinner would be much more palatable under the illumination
offered by the softer range hood light
    As usual, her housekeeper, Pearl Hardy, had
stocked the twenty-four-cubic-foot double-door refrigerator with
something from every aisle in the grocery store. And, as usual,
Marlayna ignored the wrapped cheeses, the cartons of low-cal
yogurt, and the various gourmet deli containers in lieu of her
favorite — baloney and mustard — making a major concession in using
Pearl's white wine Dijon variety of the condiment.
    She unscrewed a jar of pickles and munched
her way through some baby gherkins, while deftly coating slices of
diet wheat bread with the brown mustard.
    "Don't forget the catsup. I can only eat
baloney with mustard and catsup."
    The stainless steel knife fell from suddenly
numb fingers, spangling the black countertop yellow brown. "Noah?"
Holding a sharply drawn breath, Marlayna whirled around but found
that the only companion that haunted the kitchen was a looming
stretch of dusk gray shadow that slanted through the west
window.
    "Take a deep breath and count to ten," she
ordered and dutifully followed her own instructions. "This always
happens when you think about him. You are fine. There is no reason
to call Bellevue and have men send you a straightjacket to model."
Marlayna concentrated all her energies on peeling the red wrapper
off the luncheon meat.
    "But you still haven't put on the
catsup!"
    "There's nobody here who wants catsup," she
loudly responded to the deep masculine voice. "There's nobody here
but me."
    "I'm here. I'm always just behind you."
    Marlayna lifted another pickle from the open
jar and spoke to it. "Do you know what's going on? I do. I just
spent nine days modeling fur coats in the Mojave Desert, in
triple-digit temperatures with two mean, disgustingly smelly
camels." Even white teeth snapped through the sweet vegetable. "I'm
just having my hallucination a little late. You know how traveling
through time zones scrambles one's brain."
    "So, I'm just a hallucination?"
    "Yup." She slapped a piece of bread on top
of the baloney. "Just a mirage. A figment of the old
imagination."
    "Can this figment of your imagination set
your body on fire?"
    Marlayna felt a warm caress disturb the
ebony hair that curled against her nape. She closed her eyes when
sudden flash of heat arced inside her stomach, sending a molten
stream of longing snaking slowly downward.
    She recalled what it was like to touch and
be touched by Noah. The feeling came back fresh and alive. Her lips
were too sensitive, nerve endings all exposed; her nipples grew
hard, pushing urgently against the soft sweatshirt material of her
jacket.
    Noah wasn't even here, yet he could so
easily seduce her — easily, artfully, creatively, imaginatively. He
touched her in her dreams each night. All the memories kept coming
home. Everything had come back. Everything but Noah Drake.
    Swallowing convulsively, her tongue washed
around a dry mouth.