[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

"Even if it means getting your brains bashed in?"
She tossed a look over her shoulder. "I'll worry about my brains, Professor. You
worry about yours."
"I'm not a genius," he muttered, and surprised a smile out of her.
The exasperation on his face took the edge off her temper. She stepped off the path.
"I appreciate the concern, Max, but it's misplaced. Why don't you wait out here, sit
on the wall? I've got to go in and get my things."
She left him muttering to himself. He only wanted to protect her. Was that so wrong?
He cared about her. After all, she had saved his life. Scowling, he sat on the stone
wall. People were milling in and out of the building. Children were whining as parents
tugged, dragged or carried them to cars. Couples were strolling along hand in hand
while others pored eagerly through guide books. He saw a lot of skin broiled Maine
lobster red by the sun.
He glanced at his own forearms and was surprised to see that they were tanned.
Things were changing, he realized. He was getting a tan. He had no schedule to keep,
no itinerary to follow. He was involved in a mystery, and with an incredibly sexy
woman.
"Well..." Lilah adjusted the strap of her purse on her arm. "You're looking very
smug."
He looked up at her and smiled. "Ami?"
"As a cat with feathers in his mouth. Want to let me in on it?"
"Okay. Come here." He rose, gave her one firm yank and closed his mouth over
hers. All of his new and amazed feelings poured into the kiss. If he took the kiss
deeper than expected, it only added to the dawning pleasure of discovery. If kissing
her made the people walking around them disappear, it only accented the newness.
Starting fresh.
It was happiness rather than lust she felt from him. It confused her. Or perhaps it
was the way his lips slid over hers that dimmed coherent thought. She didn't resist.
The reason for her earlier irritation was already forgotten. All she knew now was that
it felt wonderful, somehow perfect, to be standing with him on the sunny patio,
feeling his heart thud against hers.
As his mouth slipped from hers, she let out a long, pleased sigh, opening her eyes
slowly. He was grinning at her, and the delighted expression on his face had her
smiling back. Because she wasn't sure what to do with the tender feelings he tugged
from her, she patted his cheek.
"Not that I'm complaining," she began. "But what was that for?"
"I just felt like it."
"An excellent first step."
Laughing, he swung an arm around her shoulder as they started toward the parking
lot. "You've got the sexiest mouth I've ever tasted."
He didn't see the cloud come into her eyes. If he had, she couldn't have explained it.
It always came down to sex, she supposed and made an effort to shrug the vague
disappointment away. Men usually saw her just that way, and there was no reason to
let it start bothering her now, particularly when she'd enjoyed the moment as much as
he.
"Glad I could oblige," she said lightly. "Why don't you drive?"
"All right, but first I've got something to show you." After settling into the driver's
seat, he picked up a manilla envelope. "I went through a lot of books in the library.
There are several mentions of your family in histories and biographies. There was
one in particular I thought would interest you."
"Hmm." She was already stretched out and thinking of a nap.
"I made a copy of it. It's a picture of Bianca."
"A picture?" She straightened again. "Really? Fergus destroyed all her pictures after
she died, so I've never seen her."
"Yes, you have." He drew the copy out and handed it to her. "Every time you look
in the mirror."
She said nothing, but with her eyes focused on the grainy copy she lifted a hand to
her own face. The same jaw, the same mouth, nose, eyes. Was this why she felt the
bond so strongly? she wondered, and felt tears burn her throat.
"She was beautiful," Max said quietly.
"So young." The words came out as a sigh. "Younger than I when she died. She'd
already fallen in love when this was taken. You can see it, in her eyes."
"She's wearing the emeralds."
"Yes, I know." As he had, she traced a fingertip over them. "How difficult it must
have been for her, tied to one man, loving another. And the necklace a symbol of
one man's hold on her, and a reminder of her children."
"Is that how you see it, a symbol?"
"Yes. I think her feelings for it, about it, were terribly strong. Otherwise, she
wouldn't have hidden it." She slipped the paper back into the envelope. "A good
day's work, Professor."
"It's just a beginning."
As she looked at him, she linked her fingers with his. "I like beginnings. Everything
that follows has such possibilities. We'll go home and show this to everyone, after
we make a couple of stops."
"Stops?"
"It's time for another beginning. You need some new clothes."
He hated shopping. He told her, repeatedly and firmly, but she blithely ignored him
and strolled from shop to shop. He held his ground on a fluorescent T-shirt, but lost
it again over one depicting a lobster dressed like a maitre d'.
She wasn't intimidated by clerks, but sailed through the process of selection and
purchase with a languid air of pure relaxation. Most of the merchants called her by
name, and during the chats that accompanied the buying and selling, she would
casually ask about a man fitting Caufield's description.
"Are we finished yet?" There was a plea in his voice that made her chuckle as they
stepped out onto the sidewalk again. It was teeming with people in bright summer
clothes.
"Not quite." She turned to study him. Harassed, definitely. Adorable, absolutely. His
arms were full of bags and his hair was falling into his eyes. Lilah brushed it back.
"How are you fixed for underwear?"
"Well, I..."
"Come on, there's a shop right down here that has great stuff. Tiger prints, obscene
sayings, little red hearts."
"No." He stopped dead. "Not on your life."
It was a struggle, but she kept her composure. "You're right. Completely unsuitable.
We'll just stick with those nice white briefs that come three to a package."
"For a woman with no brothers, you sure know a lot about men's underwear." He
shifted the bags, and as an afterthought, shoved half of them into her arms. "But I
think I can handle this one on my own."
"Okay. I'll window-shop." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]