Page 21 of Cursed
Janet nodded. “I’d like to choke Yvonne. Too bad you can’t do something to shoo her away.”
He sighed. “Yes, too bad she’s put a protective charm around her skinny body and her blighted soul.”
“She thinks her reasons for being here are valid,” Janet reminded him.
“Yes,” he admitted, then fell silent again. After several moments he cleared his throat. “What did you think of Morgan Kirkland?”
“She’s pretty. And strong. She’s not easily spooked, I think.”
“Let’s hope not.”
He was about to say something more when the sound of footsteps in the doorway made his head jerk up, and the woman he had been waiting for stepped into the room.
Her gaze swung from him to Janet and back again. “Don’t let me interrupt your conversation.”
“You’re not interrupting anything. Not really,” he said.
Morgan stifled the urge to fold her arms across her chest. They had been talking about her. She’d heard that much. But they’d stopped as soon as they’d become aware of her.
Well, it wasn’t exactly surprising that she’d cut off the conversation. Talking about your houseguests wasn’t polite. At least in front of the guest.
But really, nerves had made her voice come out more sharply than she’d intended. It wasn’t just from the conversation she’d interrupted. It was seeing Andre sitting there at the kitchen table looking so much like the Andre in the dream that she couldn’t tell them apart, except for his modern clothing.
She’d been kissing the man in the dream. A lot more than kissing. He’d stroked her breasts, pulled her on top of his body, made her ....
She cut off that thought. But she couldn’t prevent the feelings that went with the dream. Linette had been in love with Andre, so in love that she was willing to jeopardize her future for the pleasure of making love with him.
Those weren’therfeelings, she told herself. They belonged to another woman. She pulled herself up short. Linette wasn’t real. Morgan couldn’t blame Linette. The dream had come fromsomewherein her subconscious. From when Andre had rescued her from the flood and held her close?
Unable to move forward, she stayed where she was in the doorway. She wanted to keep her distance from Andre. She didn’t want to feel anything for him or get him mixed up with the man in the dream.
“Come sit down,” he said in the deep voice that was his and also the voice of the other man from long ago.
There was no way to explain last night’s experience—to him or to herself. So, she crossed the room and pulled out a chair, being careful not to brush his knee when she sat.
“Did you sleep well, child?” Janet asked.
“Mostly,” she allowed.
“Coffee?” the housekeeper asked.
“Yes, please,” she answered politely.
The woman brought her a cup of thick black brew, rich with the smell of something she didn’t usually associate with coffee.
“What kind is it?”
“A Cajun brand. With chicory. The best you’ll ever taste.”
Morgan took a cautious sip. It was good—but strong. And she decided that despite her usual custom, cream would make a good addition. It did.
A plate of eggs and French toast sat on the table. Andre had already taken several triangles of toast. He pushed the plate toward her—a very ordinary gesture. A host offering his guest some breakfast. But sharing food had taken on an unintended intimacy as his strong hand brushed against hers, and a current of energy seemed to spark between them.
His voice turned deeper as he said, “Janet’s eggs andpain perduare excellent,” he said.
“That’s the … Cajun … name for French toast?”
“Yes. But it’s better than any you’ve ever tasted.”
