Adversaries and Lovers by Patricia Watters Read Free Book Online Page B

a hushed voice, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything to my grandmother about the photos. She doesn't know I showed them to you."
    Ben arched a brow. "That's interesting."
    "Yes, well, she has enough problems in her life right now without being burdened by ghosts from the past."
    Ben slanted her a cynical, one-sided smile. "Ah yes. The poor, helpless widow is about to lose her beloved home to the evil tax collector because of the wicked capitalist."
    Kate glared at him, and said, "I don't know how you can be so completely insensitive."
    Ben shrugged. "I'm insensitive because I know that if my corporate office goes up in Sellwood, your grandmother and her friends won't be out on the street like you imply. They'll be able to sell their old houses, buy new ones, and have money to spare."
    " That's not the point !" Kate said, incensed. "My grandfather built this house with his own hands and my grandmother's help. Don't you think that means anything?"
    "Your grandmother needs to face up to reality," Ben said. "Your grandfather's gone, and staying in this house won't bring him back."
    "I don't understand you at all," Kate said, her temper hovering on the brink of eruption. "Nothing seems to touch you. But everyone isn't like you, thank goodness. Most people own possessions they cherish and don't want to lose."
    "Owning possessions is an oxymoron,” Ben said. “One can't own possessions, but one can be possessed by holdings. There's a subtle difference. When one's holdings become crucial to maintaining happiness and well-being, one becomes possessed by them."
    "And you refuse to be possessed by anything or anybody," Kate said. "You do have a problem."
    Ben shrugged. "I don't see it that way."
    "No, I don't suppose you do. What I don't understand is, if you can walk away from your house and everything in it, why do you surround yourself with works of art you created with your own hands?"
    "It's all in the eye of the beholder," Ben said. "I don't consider the pieces I've done works of art, only meaningless fabrications made from idle hands."
    "Do you consider Rembrandt's paintings meaningless fabrications made from idle hands?' she asked.
    "I can't speak for Rembrandt," Ben replied, "only for myself."
    "Then beautiful things mean nothing to you?"
    "Sure they do," Ben said, "but I refuse to let them possess me."
    "And I think you're afraid that something, or someone, might touch your heart," Kate said, holding his gaze.
    Ben studied her soberly, and as she looked into his eyes, Kate caught a glimpse of sadness, like windows opening to a soul that harbored pain. But the moment was fleeting, leaving her with a nagging uneasiness that she’d just touched on some hidden truth. She wanted to smile in triumph but didn't, because to do so seemed, for some inexplicable reason, a hollow victory. She did, however, like the feeling of power over Ben, marginal as it was. Then, the sadness vanished, replaced by amusement. “If I go through life unscathed,” he said, “it’s because I don’t make decisions or take actions based on emotions, but instead on logic, reason and self-control.”
    Feeling an uncharacteristic boldness, Kate reached up and said, while tracing the firm line of his lips with her finger, "And if a woman turns the tables on you, are you still able to maintain that unshakable self-control you're so proud of?"
    A new light came into his eyes. "Go ahead. Test me."
    Kate knew she was playing with fire, but she refused to back down. Bracing her hands on Ben's chest, she tilted her face up and pressed her mouth to his, and with the tip of her tongue, traced the line of his compressed lips. She’d proved her point and had no intention of going any further, when his hands came up to cup the back of her head. He threaded his fingers through her hair, tipping her head back, and covered her mouth with his with a hunger that took Kate by surprise, evoking a longing she wasn't prepared to acknowledge. She curved her arms