Angel of Smoky Hollow by Barbara McMahon Read Free Book Online

he headed out.
    â€œNo regular hours?” she asked once the door closed behind them.
    â€œShe’s here most of the time. If she’s not, folks just go in and help themselves, leaving her a note on which books they borrowed.”
    Angelica didn’t use the public library much in New York, but she couldn’t imagine it operating the same way.
    Kirk turned down one of the side streets and walked swiftly.
    â€œAre we in a hurry?” she asked, catching her breath as she tried to keep up.
    He stopped and looked at her. “Want to show you around like Webb Francis asked. Then you’re on your own.”
    â€œI can manage now. I’ll talk with the librarian and get her recommendations. You’re off the hook.”
    He looked up at the canopy of trees overhead, then down the road. “Not yet. I said I’d take you around and I will.”
    â€œI absolve you of all obligations. Face it, it’s a chore and I don’t want to be a burden.”
    â€œI said I’d do it.”
    She didn’t move when he stepped forward. Turning, he waited.
    â€œI can start at the library. Listen to the CDs. Talk to Mary Margaret and find out more about the festival, where to findmusic, what to look for. I don’t need a guide. For heaven’s sake, I’ve toured Europe.”
    Not that that meant much. She had visited London, Paris and Moscow and never saw much except between the hotel and concert hall. She had never visited her own nation’s capital, much less seen more of the USA.
    Primitive, that’s what she thought when she thought of Appalachia. A land where people kept to old ways and poverty had a stronghold. She hadn’t realized how pretty it was. Or how much she’d like the people she’d meet. They were genuine and honest, and friendly as could be.
    â€œCome on, I don’t have all day,” he said, reaching out to take her arm.
    She felt the touch like a live wire and jerked away. Feeling stupid with her reaction, she tried to cover it.
    â€œIt’s hot just like you said. I hadn’t expected it to be this warm.” What startled her was her own reaction. Taking a deep breath she tried to quell her roiling senses. She’d been touched before. She had had her share of crushes while growing up. She was a grown woman, not to be flustered by an impersonal touch, no matter how dynamic the man was. She would not start believing he was special. He was her reluctant guide to getting acquainted with Smoky Hollow, nothing more. Yet he continued to stare at her, as if waiting for more words. Heat washed through her at the intensity. She wanted to forget about the music, sit down with him and learn all she could about Kirk Devon.
    She had to stop thinking like that! It was her own convoluted thought process had her confused. She wasn’t looking for complications—but simplicity. She wanted to study a different kind of music, see if she could recover her passion for playing. Or discover something else that would bring joy to her life. Not get hot and bothered watching a sexy Kentucky man who could barely stand to be around her.
    Stalemate. They stared at each other, neither moving.
    She didn’t know why she found him so appealing. He wore jeans, worn and faded after years of wear. His blue chambray shirt was opened at the throat with its sleeves rolled back. He looked totally different from the successful businessmen she was used to. He probably didn’t even own a suit. He was in his element, she was the fish out of water, yet something attracted her. The awareness of him grew each time they were together. She wanted to touch that throat, feel the heat of his skin against hers. Hear him laugh, learn what he liked and disliked.
    â€œComing or not?” he finally asked.
    â€œI guess. But you don’t have to go out of your way to introduce me around. I can manage.”
    â€œBe easier in a small town to have someone vouch for