A Bridge to Dreams by Sherryl Woods Read Free Book Online

fingers brushed her nape, then trailed along the neckline of her sweater. Against her bare flesh, his touch blazed a path of fire and new, unfamiliar emotions burst forth deep inside her.
    Karyn had never experienced such tenderness before, such attentiveness to her needs. It wasn’t so much Brad’s gift that mattered as the fact that he’d caught the longing in her eyes, that he’d cared enough to recognize how rare such treasures were for her. She reached up and touched the delicate fabric. The emotions born this morning were just as fragile, just as unique.
    Was there any way, she wondered, to tell how long either would last?

CHAPTER FOUR
    T he sun burned away the last wisps of fog and like more magic, San Francisco emerged across the Bay as Karyn and Brad lingered over coffee in one of the cafés that dotted the Sausalito waterfront. Though Brad kept her entertained with innocuous stories of past travels with his family and on the racing circuit, she was not unaware of the speculative looks constantly cast in their direction. The reminder of Brad’s celebrity status was disconcerting at best to someone used to remaining quietly in the background.
    It was one thing when a boy of about twelve asked hesitantly for an autograph. It was quite another to have a flashy redhead in a skintight miniskirt wiggle over, drape herself around Brad’s neck with obvious familiarity and kiss his suddenly flaming cheek. Karyn couldn’t quite tell whether Brad’s blush was caused by embarrassment or outrage. Her own reaction was even more confusing. Not only did she feel uncomfortablein the presence of such intimacy, she discovered that she was also capable of gut-wrenching jealousy.
    â€œBrad, honey,” the woman whispered in a throaty, all-too-sexy purr. “It’s been too long.”
    Brad shot an apologetic look at Karyn as he tried to disengage the woman’s fingers, which were threaded through his hair. Quickly, he stood, threw some cash on the table for the bill and reached for Karyn’s hand. “Nice to see you,” he mumbled to the woman, then headed for the door at a determined pace that could have earned him first place in a marathon.
    â€œSorry about that,” he said when they were finally alone and a full block from the restaurant.
    â€œThe run or the interruption?” Karyn asked, drawing in a ragged breath.
    â€œThe interruption.”
    â€œWho was she?”
    â€œBeats me.”
    â€œYou didn’t know her?”
    â€œLet’s just say I don’t remember her.”
    Karyn stiffened at his cold, dismissive tone. “It’s not particularly gallant of you to say so. She certainly seemed to know you.”
    He stopped and turned her around to face him, his hands on her shoulders. “There are a lot of women who follow professional sports, including racing. They show up at parties. They claim an intimacy that may or may not be real. I probably have seen that woman before. I may even have had a conversation with her, but I guarantee you that it’s never gone any further than that. I may have had some wild moments during my years on the circuit, but I remember all of them.”
    At Karyn’s doubtful look, he repeated, “All of them, sweetheart.”
    Karyn felt the knot that had formed in her stomach finally begin to dissipate. She supposed what Brad said was entirely possible, but the woman had spoken in such a familiar way. Such brazen public behavior was beyond her experience. It emphasized once more the wide chasm between her level of sophistication and Brad’s. He might not like what had just happened, but he was apparently used to it.
    â€œDoes that sort of thing happen to you a lot?” she asked as they started to walk again, his arm settled comfortably across her shoulders. She liked the way it felt there, liked the hint of possessiveness.
    â€œNot as much as it used to. I’ve been away for a while now.