Iron Lace Read Online Free Page A

corner lot. They stood in front of it and watched Amy and her sister cross the street, scamper through yards and up to a porch overflowing with children.
    “This is the saddest house on the street,” Belinda said.
    Phillip turned his attention to the house in question. “Why do you say that?”
    “Because it’s got the most potential, but it’s been empty as long as I’ve been living here. It used to be for sale. Probably still is, but nobody wants to do the work to put up another sign. There were squatters here last month, before the cops ran them off. But they’ll be back. Rain’ll pour in through the broken windows, and pretty soon the wood’ll rot through. The city’ll condemn it and take it down, and then there’ll be a vacant lot here to dump trash on. And nobody’ll build.”
    Phillip wasn’t attached to houses. As long as he had a roof over his head, he was content. He never stayed anywhere long enough to care about more. But he imagined that Belinda’s description of things to come was accurate, and itseemed a shame. The house had once been the finest on the block, two-story, with elaborate cast-iron grillwork defining wide double galleries.
    “Whoever built this house had dreams,” Belinda said.
    “What do you mean?”
    “See all that iron lace? You don’t see much of that on this street. A woman built this house. A strong woman who knew what she wanted.”
    He put his arms around her and rested his chin against her ear. “You’re guessing? Or do you know the history?”
    “You just have to look at the house to know.”
    “Maybe it just takes a strong woman with a strong imagination to see it.”
    “It takes a strong woman to make dreams come true.”
    He thought of the strong woman he had met this evening. “I got the strangest phone call today.”
    She turned so she could see his face. “Did you?”
    Thunder rolled across the sky, drowning out the possibility of a reply. As they stood there waiting for it to pass, the first raindrops began to fall. He tugged her hand, and they loped back toward her house.
    On her porch, he shook his head and sent raindrops flying. Then he put his arms around her again.
    “It looks like I might be staying around for a while.”
    “And just where do you think you’ll be living if you do?”
    “I was thinking about here. If you’ll have me.”
    She didn’t say yes, because she didn’t have to. Phillip knew he was welcome. More was unspoken than spoken between them, but some things were perfectly clear.
    “So tell me about that call,” she said.
    “I’ll tell you about it inside.”
    “You do that, ’cause it’s getting cold out here, and your arms aren’t warm enough to take care of it.”
    “They’re not?” He grinned down at her. “You’re sure about that?” He lowered his head and nuzzled her cheek until she sighed in defeat. Her lips were soft against his.
    There had been other women in his life. More than he could probably remember. But none of them had been as seductive as this one. As her body melted into his, he listened to the New Orleans rain, and he thought he might not mind listening to it for a while longer.

CHAPTER THREE
    A urore chose the morning room for her first session with Phillip. The room was airy and open, warmed by sunlight and cooled by a soft breeze. There was a comfortable round table where they could sit, he with his notebook in hand and she with the one cup of real coffee she was allowed every day. As she spoke, she would hear birds outside the windows, and they would remind her that she was seventy-seven and the events she described had happened long ago.
    She was ready by the time he arrived. She wore a comfortable lavender dress and no jewelry, hoping she could set a casual tone. But inside, she felt anything but casual.
    When Phillip walked into the room, she was captivated once again by how handsome and confident he was. He wore a white shirt and a dark jacket, but no tie today, as if he planned to get