Fire Brand by Diana Palmer Read Free Book Online Page A

Bowie’s tanned face when he looked at her. She was afraid her irritation was showing, and she wasn’t sure she liked that faint pleasure in his smile.
    â€œI wondered where you’d gone,” he murmured as she joined them.
    â€œI was talking to Mary. Hello, Magda,” she said politely.
    â€œHello. I was just getting to know your stepbrother,” she sighed, her dark eyes flirting with Bowie’s.
    â€œBowie isn’t my stepbrother,” Gaby said politely, surprised at the anger that remark produced in her. “We aren’t related.”
    â€œReally, dear?” Magda asked. “I didn’t realize. I’m sure you said something about having a big brother...”
    â€œThere’s Art,” Gaby said, nodding toward the reporter Magda was currently dangling from her string. “He’s looking this way.”
    â€œOh, brother,” Magda muttered. Then she forced a smile and glanced up at Bowie. “Perhaps I’ll see you again. I’d love a ride home...”
    â€œI came with Gaby,” Bowie said, his eyes saying more than he did. “I’ll leave with her.”
    He never dressed up his words, Gaby mused, watching Magda blush at the bluntness of the remark. She stammered something and beat a path over to Art, who beamed at the sight of her.
    â€œDoes she make a habit of that?” Bowie asked as he lit a cigarette.
    â€œOf what?”
    â€œTrying to steal men away from their escorts.”
    â€œShe’s very popular...” she began.
    â€œPopular, the devil,” he said with a narrow, half-amused gaze. “She’s a born flirt with acquisitive eyes and an ego that probably has to be fed ten times a day. She’s the type who runs a mile at the first suggestion of intimacy.”
    Her eyes studied his face inquisitively. “Magda?” She was surprised because she’d always thought of the other woman as being something of a femme fatale.
    â€œMagda.” He blew out a thin cloud of smoke. “It’s an act, can’t you see? A facade to hide her lack of confidence.”
    â€œRemind me never to try and hide anything from you,” she said with a laugh that hid nervousness. He saw deep.
    â€œAnd this engagement won’t make it to the altar.” He lifted his cigarette to his mouth again, took a draw, and put it out while Gaby studied him with wide eyes. “He’s cutting at her already. Why? Is she pregnant?”
    She gasped.
    â€œI thought so,” he mused. “And he feels trapped and wants out. That’s what I mean about marriage, Gaby. People who are sure of what they feel for each other don’t need a trial run.”
    â€œHow do you do it?” she asked.
    â€œDo what?”
    â€œRead people like that.”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems to come naturally.” He glanced down at her. “Except with you. Do you know, Gaby, I’ve never been able to read you. I’d hate like hell to play poker with you. You’ve got that kind of face.”
    â€œOh, I’m an open book,” she said offhandedly.
    â€œNo.” He glanced around half irritably. “Have you been here long enough? It’s been over half an hour since we got here.”
    He hated parties and dressing up, she knew, and especially when most of the women present were trying to seduce him with their eyes. He had to be the only person in the room who didn’t know how devastatingly handsome he was.
    â€œYes, I’ve been here long enough,” she agreed. “And I’m rather tired.” It was all catching up with her—the shooting, the news about Aggie’s new man friend, the truth of Mary and Ted’s relationship. She’d never been so depressed.
    They excused themselves, wished Ted and Mary happiness with forced smiles, and left.
    Bowie parked the car in front of Gaby’s apartment complex and cut the engine. He leaned back in the seat,