Hot Shot by Susan Elizabeth Phillips Read Free Book Online

attracted the attention of most of the male diners.
    She favored several of them with a seductive smile before she walked out the door.
    As Susannah watched Paige disappear, she wished for the thousandth time that the two of them could have the close loving relationship other sisters shared. It would be so wonderful to have someone to confide in—to be silly with.
    But then Susannah was never silly with anyone. For her the daily business of living required great seriousness. As she paid the check, she remembered how often she had listened to Paige giggling with her friends, and she felt another stab of envy toward her rebellious sister.
    "I hope everything was satisfactory, Miss Faulconer?"
    "Excellent as always, Paul. Thank you."
    Susannah slipped her credit card back into her purse and got up from her chair. As she left the restaurant, her posture was perfect, her movements contained and graceful. She bore no resemblance at all to the little girl who had once been so enchanted with a bundle of dancing balloons that she had unlocked the protected gates of her own life and—for a few glorious moments—run free.
    Chapter 3
    Falcon Hill had been built in the style of an opulent French manor house. In addition to marble bathrooms and polished teak floors, it contained five fireplaces with Louis XV
    mantels, an oval-shaped morning room, and a well-stocked European wine cellar.
    Susannah paused inside the arched entryway to the dining room to check the last-minute arrangements for her father's birthday celebration. The handpainted wallpaper was softly illuminated by a matching pair of antique chandeliers sparkling with a waterfall of crystal prisms. Sprays of white flowers spilled from the low Georgian silver bowls. The antique linen tablecloth and twenty matching napkins had been purchased at auction in London a decade earlier. Each piece bore the gold-embroidered crest of Czar Nicholas I.
    Susannah had just finished adjusting one of the floral arrangements when she heard Cal's voice in the foyer. She went out to greet him and to straighten his tie, just as she had straightened her father's tie a short time before. Cal and her father were alike in so many ways. Both were commanding presences, both utterly self-assured.
    "You look lovely, darling," Cal said, openly admiring her black evening gown. It had an off-the-shoulder neckline surrounded by a wide white organdy ruffle. When she'd put it on, she had thought the combination of the frothy neckline and her bare shoulders made her look as if she had just climbed naked out of a vat of whipped vanilla nougat.
    He chucked her under the chin. "You look like a beautiful, graceful swan."
    Just her luck, she thought. Cal ate vanilla nougat, but she had never known him to eat a swan.
    She turned away abruptly and led Cal toward the living room. He kissed her again—a neat kiss, precisely on target, as neat as the crease in his trousers, as exact as the part in his hair.
    "Do you remember me telling you about the problems I was having with Harrison's region?"
    He kept his voice low in case there were any eavesdroppers lurking about, and without waiting for her answer, launched into a detailed account of his latest success at work. She needed to speak to the cook, but she listened patiently. Serving as Cal's audience wasn't something she minded. In public, her fiancé was both discreet and modest to a fault, and it was only when he was with her that he dropped his natural caution. Sometimes she thought he didn't really enjoy his triumphs until he had spread them out before her.
    After the guests arrived, dinner progressed agreeably. She had seated Cal and her father close together. Although only forty-two, Cal was a senior vice-president, and insiders considered him Joel's probable successor, especially in light of his upcoming marriage to Susannah.
    She noticed how handsome the two men looked sitting at the other end of the table. At fifty-eight, Joel was nearly as lean and fit as her