Kiss and Tell by Cherry Adair Read Free Book Online

someone if you don't ask questions?"
    The attraction between them must be a pheromone thing, she decided. Something chemical. Something that better quit it before I make a complete fool of myself .
    "Want to hear what I know about you without asking questions?"
    "Sure." She found a large, green plastic ashtray under the sink and washed it. Then opened the four cans of soup and used the ashtray as a bowl for Duchess.
    "You're a natural blonde. Your hair gets lighter in the summer. You have a trust fund you don't use. You manage, barely, on your income, and run out of money before the end of the month because you're always giving handouts. You live in a house, not an apartment. Bold colors. Clean lines. Original art. No clutter."
    "I'm impressed." And delighted he'd been thinking about her.
    "You're spoiled rotten. Used to getting your own way. Can't cook worth a damn—"
    "Beep. Wrong. I'm a superior chef." She smiled at him sweetly, then tilted her head. "Now I'll give it a try. Hmmm. Let's see, you're a loner. Only child?" He nodded. "See, I'm good at this, too. Let's see... What do you do for a living? I bet it has something to do with radio."
    He looked blank. "Radio?"
    "You have an incredibly sexy voice." She gazed into his eyes.
    He looked back steadily. Inscrutably. "I had a little trouble with my vocal cords a while back. My voice is ruined."
    Her stomach flipped, and she kept her eyes away from the scar on his neck with difficulty. She swallowed a lump in her own throat and said huskily. "I like it. It makes me—"
    One dark brow rose. "Makes you what?"
    Hot. Shivery Turned on.
    "Nothing."
    Although it wasn't a character trait of which she was particularly proud, she often spoke without thinking. At the rate she was going, he'd toss her back out in the rain.
    "That's if you do work, of course," she continued blithely. "You could be a career criminal, on the lam from the law, hiding out up here in the mountains waiting for the heat to die down. Am I getting warm?"
    "I thought this was a monologue."
    "Funny man. Knowing what someone does for a living can tell you quite a lot about the person, that's all."
    "Want to see a credit report?"
    She gave him a snotty look. "Do you like what you do? Whatever that might be," she added under her breath.
    "Haven't thought about it one way or the other."
    "Why don't you quit, then?"
    "I'm thinking about it. You work?"
    "I worked all the way through high school. My dad insisted I learn the value of a dollar." She was used to people thinking that since she was a rich Wright, she didn't need gainful employment. "I've worked for the same computer company for almost eight years."
    "I thought you were an artist." He sounded suspicious.
    "Yes, well, at the moment, one pays my rent and the other doesn't. Admittedly it's nepotism. I work for my father – Wright Computers? But I assure you I do work. He's real big on sowing before one reaps. I started sowing as a programmer before I was out of college. One of these days I'm going to reap and do illustrating full time. That's one of the things I'm here to think about." Go to Paris, wear black, and look mysterious. She smiled.
    "Fiancé number three?"
    Marnie frowned. "What does that— Oh. Nope. One doesn't have anything to do with the other. No more engagements. I'll see, I'll conquer, eventually I'll marry."
    "Set your sights on the poor sap yet?"
    She scanned his face and gave a noncommittal shrug.
    For years she'd convinced herself that what she'd wanted was too ephemeral, too storybook to be real. She'd analyzed all her relationships to death and found both the men and herself lacking.
    She'd never been remotely aggressive. Never pursued a man. Never wanted to. Probably because, until now, she'd just never felt strongly enough.
    Whatever the reason, she certainly felt strongly enough now. When she'd come here to make life-altering decisions, she hadn't thought that her grand adventure was already under way.
    She'd never been this