Jed's Sweet Revenge by Deborah Smith Read Free Book Online

if her fingertips were tracing every inch of him. He grabbed a T-shirt from the backpack near his feet and hurriedly slipped it over his head. She could burn a man up with those eyes, he thought. How many men had she turned to ashes before him?
    “I’ll take your breakfast bribe,” he said gruffly. “It puts cowboy food to shame.”
    “Good. Here’s another bribe.” She reached for something hidden on the other side of her and handed him a pair of scuffed leather sandals. “Wear these today and leave those hot boots behind.”
    “These look like somethin’ an old hippy would own.”
    “They belonged to my father, and he most certainly wasn’t an old hippy,” she retorted. “He was a member of the French Olympic equestrian team when he was young. And he was a well-respected marine biologist. My mother was a biologist too, by the way. So you’d better wear those sandals with pride.”
    He made himself look very chastised. “Yes, ma’am.” His firm mouth crooked up at one corner. “I just thought maybe they belonged to your last boyfriend.”
    She looked at him for a moment, and the shaming memories of Nate rose in her mind again. Oh, yes, she had no doubt that she’d best ignore her sexual feelings. Nate had said many times that she was an intellectual being not suited for intimacy. Her fumbling, unsuccessful attempts to change their platonic relationship over the years had done nothing but make him more certain they both should remain celibate, and finally she’d had to agree. She was a thinker, not a lover.
    “Now that … friend,” she said slowly, “was an old hippy. But he wore tennis shoes, not sandals.”
    Jed trained his eyes on his feet as he slid them into the strange-looking shoes, which were a little too big. He kept his voice and his expression poker-playing neutral. “What happened? Did you blast your old hippy boyfriend with the shotgun for some reason and chase him off?”
    “He wasn’t just an old hippy. Before he came to the coast to live, he was a university literature professor. He was also a philosopher. Very brilliant. He died in the car wreck, with my parents.”
    Jed raised apologetic eyes. She gazed back at him without rebuke, but after a minute he murmured, “Sometimes I can put both of my big feet into my big mouth. Forgive me?”
    Thena nodded, and her eyes filled with puzzlement. He sounded so kind and sad. It was gettingdifficult not to be fascinated with him, even if he were here to cause her nothing but trouble.
    Jed absorbed the flicker of affection in her expression and felt as if she’d kissed him. Goose bumps ran down his arms.
    “Were you in that accident too?”
    She nodded and pointed to her knee. His eyes roamed over the network of surgery scars, and he remembered her limp. “It happened on the mainland,” she explained calmly. “That’s one reason I love my island. No cars except an old truck I use to haul supplies. No drunk drivers.” She paused, and her gaze turned bitter. “Your island,” she corrected.
    Guilt surged through him. “I wanted to tell you yesterday, but you never gave me a chance, gal. You can keep your house and the land around it. Looks like you don’t have enough money to move anywhere else.”
    “Thank you,” she said coldly. “But I do have money. My parents left me a little and I paint watercolor seascapes that bring in enough for most expenses. Money’s not the issue.”
    Jed frowned, his generous gesture shot down. She put several golden whiting filets on a china plate she’d brought with her and unwrapped a dozen biscuits bundled in aluminum foil at the edge of the fire. She put three biscuits on the plate and handed it to him. Jed accepted the hot dish without looking at it.
    “You can’t expect me to keep this place,” he protested. “What does a cowboy need with an island?”
    “You’ll change your mind.” She nodded with an attitude of profound wisdom. There were beautiful spirits here—Sarah Gregg’s