Last Bridge Home by Iris Johansen Read Free Book Online Page B

puzzling antagonism in his manner when he spoke of Mark, and a queer electric awareness sparked between them since the moment he had come down the steps of the cottage yesterday afternoon. The way she had tingled when she had looked at him in the kitchen … No! If she had experienced any sexual attraction, it must have been a reflection of what Jon Sandell was feeling. Oh, Lord, that didn’t make sense either. In her present condition, her sex appeal was non-existent. “I believe it’s time I had a discussion with Jon. You say he’s on the deck?”
    He nodded gloomily. “I was afraid youwouldn’t let it pass. I guess I’d better hold dinner for another thirty minutes.”
    “It might be wise.”
    “My jacket is in the hall closet. Put it on before you go outside. I’m going to be in enough trouble without letting you stalk out there and risk pneumonia.”
    “I don’t stalk. It’s much too melodramatic, and I’m very careful about running any risk at all these days. I particularly refuse to risk mental stress when I can probably straighten out the situation with a few minutes of con versation.” She smiled fleetingly. “Andrew doesn’t like me to be upset.”
    “Neither does Jon. Which means I’m due to catch hell. Tell them both I’m profoundly sorry.” He sighed. “That’s certainly bloody well true.”
    A smile was still lingering on Elizabeth’s lips as she slipped Gunner’s warm suede coat on over her caftan. Her smile vanished, however, when she opened the front door and caught sight of Jon standing with his back to her staring out into the darkness. A light snow was beginning to fall, and a few glittering flakes were captured in the sable darkness of his hair. For the first time since she had met him, he looked totally relaxed. “Jon.”
    He whirled toward her, an expression of wariness on his face that hurt her in the samestrange way his careless words had earlier in the truck. He was so terribly guarded, every movement charged with painful intensity. She had a sudden desire to soothe away the wariness, hold him until he felt safe and … Good Lord, what was she thinking? Jon Sandell needed protection less than any man she’d ever met. She closed the door behind her. “I want to talk to you.”
    He relaxed. “Fine. We’d better go inside, it’s too cold out here for you.”
    “No. This will only take a moment. I need the fresh air.” And the darkness. The question she had to ask him was embarrassing enough without having to face his keen dark eyes. She crossed to stand beside him. “The snow isn’t falling very fast, is it? Maybe the Weather Bureau was wrong about the storm.”
    “Perhaps.”
    She could feel his gaze on her face, and her hands closed tightly on the rough wood of the railing. “I know what I’m going to ask you is silly. It’s all probably some idiotic misunderstanding, but I’m one of those people who can’t rest until they have everything crystal clear.” His face was a shadowy blur, but his stance revealed the same leashed tension she had heard in his voice. She was speaking with bulletlike rapidity, the words tumbling feverishlyover each other. “If you’ll just explain what Gunner meant, I’m sure it will—”
    “Just what did Gunner say? I can hardly ex plain something away, if I don’t know what it is.”
    “He called me … your lady.”
    He muttered a curse beneath his breath.
    “I knew it was a mistake,” she rushed on quickly. “I just didn’t want to have it nagging at me.”
    “It’s no mistake.”
    She turned to look at him. “What?” she whispered.
    “The only mistake was Gunner’s damn lack of discretion. I should have known he’d blow it.”
    “But he said—”
    “That you’re my lady? It’s quite true. You are my lady, though I wouldn’t have phrased it in just that fashion. Gunner’s people have a rather simplistic view of the man-woman relationship. Still, the elemental fact exists that you do belong to me.” He