If Looks Could Kill by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page A

it your way. Old habits die hard. I’m just trying to ascertain who you’ll be seeing after your gig.”
    â€œMaybe I sleep with the whole band. At the same time.”
    He smiled, lowering his head slightly. “Madison, you have the tolerance level of a baby when it comes to alcohol.”
    â€œReally? You haven’t seen me in more than six years! You think I’m drunk already? You think you know my tolerance levels? Then maybe you don’t want to stick around. I’m Lainie Adair’s child, remember? If I’m so loaded, you should watch out. I might resort to some kind of wild strip show up there.”
    He grinned, tugging on the brim of his baseball cap. “Well, cool. You did just remind me that there’s no blood relation between us. Our kids wouldn’t have two heads, or anything like that. I’ll be watching and waiting.”
    â€œOur kids? Oh, Kyle, never, not even if the survival of the species depended on it.”
    â€œI think they’re waiting for you, Madison.”
    She stood up with sudden anger, then bent down, whispering vehemently, “Don’t wait for me.”
    â€œI’m not having any traffic fatalities on my conscience. I’ll be here when you’re done.”
    â€œKyle—”
    â€œI’ll be waiting, Madison.”
    She straightened. Turned. Wavered.
    She really didn’t have any tolerance for alcohol. None whatsoever.
    She banged into a table on her way back to the stage.
    But she sang just fine. Her voice was great. She moved sensually to the music.
    And when she finished, he was waiting.

3
    M adison could have kicked herself. She prided herself on looking at life with level, matter-of-fact vision, and here she was, behaving like a two-year-old.
    Because Kyle Montgomery had suddenly stepped back into her life.
    To make it worse, she reflected, he was behaving well. Apologizing. Putting the past in the past, trying to establish a friendship.
    She could be mature, too. She could. He had just taken her by surprise, that was all. And, of course, he did know her. She had no tolerance for alcohol whatsoever—which seemed absurd, considering what her father could put away without the slightest slur in his voice. But that didn’t matter; she had a handle on that now. During the second break, she had laced herself with strong black coffee. By the time the group finished for the night, she was clearheaded. Tired, but clearheaded. So much so that she was able to insist with quiet, mature dignity that she could drive her own car home.
    Still, when she drove through the gates to her father’s Key West “bungalow,” Kyle was right behind her. It would have appeared rude to rush in ahead of him and slam the front door in his face, so she stepped from the driver’s seat of her Cherokee, closed the car door and waited. She wasn’t going to appear rude. And she wasn’t going to fight with him like a child. She wasn’t going to embrace him with enthusiasm, however; she was going to be cool, aloof and unerringly polite. Courteous. Naturally, he was welcome in her father’s house. At one time, as he had said, they had been a family, however dysfunctional.
    â€œSo, how is being back home in the land of sun and fun?” she inquired as he stepped from his rented Honda and started along the path toward her. He looked good. As if he spent lots of hours in the gym. There were the larger touches of silver in his dark hair than the last time she’d seen him, as if life had beaten him up a bit. It had; she knew that. His face was more striking now, with a few sun lines working their way around his mouth and eyes. He was tanned. He might use good sense and sunblock now and then, she thought, but vanity would never keep him from the outdoors, which he loved. It was, in fact, strange to think of him spending so much time in the Washington area without coming home. She knew that his house was actually